What The Eyes Can't See
by Axellia
Summary: Sometimes it takes more than science to solve a case, but when Taylor Turner appears claiming she can see ghosts, will the CSIs accept her help, or will science over-ride the supernatural? Spoilers from S2 onwards, various xovers.
1. Author's Note

Greetings,

If you're new to What The Eyes Can't See, welcome. Firstly, let me thank you on taking on the epic task of reading this monster story. Then, when you've finished - please let me know how long it took you so I can congratulate you!

It's been a WIP for the best part of seven years (holy cow!) now. It is unfinished and I do have every intention of finishing it. Eventually... It's not that I don't want to finish it, so much as I have a lot more that I want to write. Simply, I expect the final chapter count to exceed 300, probably 400, and if my brain and fingers allow it, possibly 500. We'll see, anyway.

So what can you expect? Well, first and foremost, it's an OC story. If you don't like them, you probably won't like this one, although I would say, give it a go - you never know, I might convert you. And if not, at least we've both tried.

Spoilers wise, I would say anything from season 2 onwards goes. I don't work chronologically through each episode, so there might be part of season 2, a jump to 7, then back to 4. It's fiction - go with it. It's all how it fits in with the flow of the story. At the moment, the only think I can guarantee is that it won't cover the current season - I'm still halfway through season 8. That being said, I think I have plans for Jo to make an appearance - but that doesn't necessarily mean that Stella won't be there. Speaking of characters - I have both Lindsay and Aiden in here. I also have Louie Messer (but no Lucy - yet!) Sid, Marty and Peyton all feature, as does Chad.

Crossovers - I have a few. You can expect to see some familiar faces from Miami and Las Vegas. The guys from Cold Case are in there, as are my two favourite brothers - Dean and Sam Winchester. Oh, and Don and Charlie Epps (Numb3rs). And who can forget Third Watch (well, those of you who are old enough to remember it being aired).

For those of you returning and rereading, you know the drill and what to expect. As you've probably gathered, I don't have a beta until somewhere around chapter 100... maybe later. I didn't realise until recently just how many errors there were until that point. What I am currently doing is re-editing the whole story. Honestly, I didn't think it would take this long, but at this rate, I see this ongoing for a good six months. Hopefully, it will also get me writing again. (A clue to where I'm up to is to either look at the chapter title, or head over to the website - link in my profile)

What I am also doing is re-vamping the website I created. FF won't let me post the link here, but it is in my profile. Basically, for all those of you that want more information, or just to read my blog and see where I'm up to with updates, that's the best place to go. Please feel free to comment - especially on the chapters that I've already posted - if you still see a mistake, please let me know! Like I've said, it is a slow process, but I will get there.

I can't think of anything else of importance at this point, so if I've missed anything, please drop me a line.

See you all soon,

Axellia


	2. I See Dead People

**Chapter 1: I See Dead People!**

Taylor Nicole Turner stared at her reflection in the mirror as she absent-mindedly straightened the jet black hair which hung down almost to her waist. She had been straightening the same piece over and over again – not because it was a troublesome piece, but rather, because she found the motion therapeutic.

Taylor was a columnist for the _New York Daily_, and was currently trying to find the inspiration to finish her column. It was her job to write about the crime in New York City, and to do so in a way which was both informative, and entertaining. Not exactly the easiest of tasks (how exactly can you make a serial rapist, or murder entertaining?) which was precisely why she was trying to find a muse of sorts. She was actually good at her job, and didn't doubt that she would get the article done, though it would undoubtedly be about five minutes before it needed to go to print.

She had miraculously landed an internship at the paper five years ago, after leaving college, an NYU graduate. She had said goodbye to her parents in California, and moved permanently to the city in a two room apartment (bedroom, kitchen, living room and dining room in one room, a bathroom the size of a sardine can for the other). Two years later, the position had become permanent, and she had moved to an apartment where the kitchen became a separate entity. Another two and a half years, and she had the column, and an apartment which had a spare bedroom, which she used as a study.

Taylor sat back, setting the straighteners down, and stared intently at her reflection. The lack of California sun had slowly faded her tan away to replace it with the pale complexion she had now. Although, when summer appeared in a few month's time, it would come back, like it had done every year since she had moved to the city. The internship had done her figure the world of good too. Insisting on a place of her own, she only just managed enough to cover the rent - food wasn't exactly the first thing on her list of priorities. That and all the running about she had done for the editor-in-chief had also helped, and as a result, the plump figure she had once had, had disappeared into a nice slim one. The only thing that hadn't changed was her eyes – they were still these two black orbs.

The straightening had done its job, and she could feel the inspiration running to her fingers. She got up, unplugged the straighteners, and turned around.

And then she screamed.

Standing in front of her was a girl, not much younger than herself. She was wearing a grey NYU sweater and sweatpants, her hair was resting on her shoulders in blonde ringlets, and her green eyes were staring straight at her. But it wasn't the fact that there was a strange girl standing in the middle of her apartment that had freaked Taylor out. It was the fact that the girl was semi-transparent, and sticking out of her, about where her heart was, was a long, thin knife with three pearls on the hilt.

"Help me."

Taylor stumbled back into her dresser, and put her hand out to steady herself, only to find them coming into contact with the still hot straighteners. She was still too busy staring in disbelief at the… ghost… standing in front of her, that she didn't even notice, until finally the pain became too much. She snatched her hand up and held it against her breast, somewhat unable to comprehend that if she could feel her flesh burning, then she wasn't asleep, and therefore the thing in front of her was real. She glanced down at the red welt on her hand, and when she looked back up, the girl had gone.

She was definitely feeling the pain now, so she hurried into her bathroom and began running her hand under the tap. She glanced up at her now clammy face in the mirror, only to have something catch her eye in the reflection behind her. She spun back around to find the girl again. "What the hell are you?" she spluttered at it.

The girl cocked her head and help up something for Taylor to see. It was an ID for _Carol Anne Lewis Prep School_, a girl's only high school on the other side of Manhattan. Taylor only just caught the name on the card – Rebecca something, before the girl spoke again. "Help me," she repeated. Just as suddenly as she appeared, she disappeared, and the room became warmer. Taylor hadn't even noticed that the room had gone icy cold until then.

Leaving the tap still running, Taylor hurried into her hall, grabbed her keys, cell phone, and cash, and stuffed them into the pockets of her trousers as she dashed out of the door, barely checking she had locked it behind her.

She ran the sixteen block distance to the police precinct, ignoring the rain which was pounding down heavily upon the city, and tore up the steps, into the building. Ignoring the indignant shouts of the petite brunette who was sharing her umbrella with a sandy-haired man wearing glasses Taylor had nearly knocked down the steps, she hurried into the building. Finally, she came to a stop in the doorway of one of the rooms.

Taylor looked around and headed to the only desk which had a detective behind it, doing something that looked very much like filling in a report. Taylor hurried over and sat down heavily at the spare chair in front of his desk. The dark haired detective looked up in surprise at the soaking wet woman sat in front of him.

"You're probably going to think I'm crazy. Hell, _I_ think I am crazy," she told him, staring straight into his bright blue eyes.

"Um, can I help you, ma'am?" he asked her, drinking in her appearance with concern.

Taylor frowned and nodded. "I think someone has been murdered."

The detective sat upright, dropping his pen on the desk. "You think someone has been murdered?" he repeated.

"A girl. Rebecca something." Taylor told him, trying to keep the hysteria reigned in.

The detective brought his fist up to his mouth, stared at the woman for a few moments, then stood up. "Why don't we go somewhere a little more private," he suggested kindly, leading her gently down the hall and into an interview room. He sat her down on one of the chairs, before taking his jacket off and draping it over her. "I'm going to go and get a coffee. You want one?" Taylor shook her head. "Alright, I'll be right back. Just stay there."

He left the room, leaving Taylor all alone. She got up and began pacing back and forth across the room, replaying the scene in her head. Finally, the detective returned, pad and pen in one hand, cup of coffee in the other, and with another man behind him.

"Ma'am, this is Detective Taylor," he told her, nodding at the other detective, who gave her a curt nod of the head. "I'm Detective Flack."

"Taylor..." Taylor responded. "Taylor Turner."

"Taylor Turner?" Detecive Taylor repeated. "Don't you write that _Crime Files_ column?"

Taylor nodded. "Yes, but that's not why I'm here."

"Ma'am, why don't you take a seat?" Flack offered, pointing to the chair he had previously sat her in.

Taylor bit her lip and sat back down.

"Alright," said Mac. "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

"I think a girl was murdered. Rebecca something," she told him, repeating what she had previously told the other detective.

"Murdered? Where?" Mac asked her, studying her carefully.

"I don't know," she told them, her voice catching.

"You don't know?" said Mac, frowning. "Alright, then can you tell me any shops or buildings you remember?"

Taylor chewed nervously at her lip. "No, I didn't exactly see the murder, or the body."

Mac and Flack exchanged a look. "So what makes you think this Rebecca was murdered?" Flack asked her.

Taylor shut her eyes, "I know this is going to seem strange. I'm not sure I get it myself, but I saw her. Her ghost, I mean."

"You saw a ghost?" snorted Flack.

Taylor's eyes flew open to glare at him. "Look, I don't know what I saw, but she asked me for my help, and that's what I'm trying to do. But if you're not going to help me to help her, then I'll do it myself." she told him, shrugging off the jacket and getting to her feet.

"Miss Turner," said Mac. "You have to understand, we work on physical evidence, not the hallucinations of-"

"Don't even say it," Taylor cut him off. "I know it sounds crazy, but I'm not. I saw a girl, in my apartment, twice. She was wearing a NYU sweater and sweatpants, and she had blonde hair, and green eyes, and looked like she wasn't much younger than me. But she showed me an ID to a prep school, so she's only eighteen at the most."

"Miss Turner, you could be describing half a dozen girls like that in the city," said Flack, still not believing her.

"I am telling you what I saw. She had a knife stuck in her heart," Taylor insisted.

"A knife?" Suddenly, Mac looked interested.

Taylor nodded. "Yes. A nice looking one, with three pearls on it."

Mac frowned then glanced at Flack, "Can I speak to you, a moment." Flack nodded and the two went outside.

Taylor sat down and stared at the table. She was sure that they thought she was crazy. Maybe she had been working a little too hard and could do with a long earned vacation – lord knows her mother almost daily left messages on her voicemail begging her to come home and visit. She glanced down at the burn on her hand. No, she wasn't crazy.

Several minutes passed and the two detectives returned. Wordlessly, Mac placed six photos of faces of women on the table. All of them dead bodies, lying on a morgue table with their eyes closed. "Do you see the woman here?"

Taylor didn't hear him ask the question. The second photo on the table was the girl she had seen in her room. She sat staring at it. She was staring so intently, she jumped violently when Mac laid a hand on her shoulder. "That's her," she told him, pointing.

Mac gathered the other photos up and slipped them into a folder. He sat down opposite. "We were called out to a scene two days ago," he told her. "This is the Jane Doe," he frowned. "A Jane Doe is the term-"

"Detective Taylor, with all due respect, I write a crime column. I am familiar with the term _Jane Doe_ as well as several of the police codes you use," Taylor assured him.

Mac nodded. "Of course. I apologise. This Jane Doe – the cause of death was a single stab wound to the heart. The knife was recovered at the scene – it had three pearls in it."


	3. I'm Not Crazy!

**Chapter 2: I'm Not Crazy!**

Taylor glanced down at her watch. "Well, detectives, clearly you don't need my help, as it seems you already have this information. I have a column due in, in a few hours, so I should go finish that." She made to stand, the chair scraping behind her, but Flack reached out and grabbed her wrist. She stared up at him. "What?"

"Where were you three nights ago, between the hours of 6 and 10pm?" he asked her.

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "Are you kidding me?" She snatched her hand back.

Flack stared stonily at her.

"I write _about_ crime, I don't commit it," Taylor told him, somewhat indignantly.

"The information released to the public didn't include a description of the knife. The only way you would know that piece of information is if you were there," Flack returned.

"So now you think I'm a suspect?" she cried incredulously. "I came here to help you identify that girl. I mean, seriously, if I was going to murder someone, do you really think I would turn up and claim I had seen a ghost? _Really_?" she asked, staring in disbelief at the two detectives.

"Where were you, Miss Turner?" repeated Mac.

Taylor sat down and ran her hair through her hair, sending droplets of water to the floor. The rain had reverted it back to the soft curls she was used to spending time trying to cover up. "I can't believe you are treating me like a suspect," she muttered. "I was vegging out on my couch, with a bottle of wine, a chicken chow mien, and a DVD box set of _Family Guy._"

"And can anyone verify this?" Mac asked as Flack took notes.

Taylor shrugged. "The takeaway was delivered at 7. Oh, and my mother called me at 9." She got back to her feet. "Now can I go? Or are you going to arrest me?"

"We're going to have to verify this information," explained Mac, "But yes, you can go. Just make sure you stick around."

"I guess I had better cancel my world cruise then," she said sarcastically, leaving the room. As the door shut behind her, she stopped, sighed and went back in.

"What the hell was that about?" Flack was asking Mac, whistling slightly as he circled his finger around his ear. He stopped when he saw Taylor glaring at him.

"I forgot," Taylor snapped. "The girl?"

"Rebecca?" Mac asked.

"Yeah," Taylor nodded. "She showed me an ID card for a Prep school. Um, Carol Anne Lewis Prep School. You should be able to identify her there." she sighed and left the room again, heading down the corridor. She spotted a bathroom and ducked in, heading straight for the sink. She was busy splashing water on her face when a toilet flushed behind her.

"Are you alright?"

Taylor looked up and caught sight of an attractive brunette with a mass of curls staring at her in concern. She had detective written all over her.

Taylor was about to tell her she was fine, when she caught sight of her reflection. Her hair was a plastered to her head at the top, whilst the rest had turned into an uncontrollable mass of waves and ringlets at the bottom. Her black camisole was drenched, as were her grey combats, and her face? Her mascara was streaking off in various directions. Instead, Taylor started laughing. In all honesty, she looked pretty pathetic.

"One of those days?" the detective asked as she began rummaging around in her purse. She pulled out a pack of face wipes and a stick of mascara.

Taylor nodded, accepting the items. "You have no idea," she muttered, as she began wiping away the trails of mascara.

"Oh, I've spent a fair few hours processing the scene of a crime in the rain, only to return to the lab resembling a panda."

Taylor smiled, the understanding dawning on her. "Criminalist?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Journalist," she told her, finally handing the items back to their owner, "Thank you." She glanced down at her watch and groaned. "Speaking of, I have a column due in soon. I should get going. Thank you so much." She dashed out of the door, and out of the building, in just as big a rush as she had been upon entering the building, that she nearly sent the same couple flying as she had earlier, as they re-entered the building. Shouting a hurried apology over her shoulder, she ran back to her apartment.

The bonus to being soaking when you go out in the rain is that the next time you went out it, you couldn't really get any wetter. Taylor got home, stripped off to have a quick shower to warm herself up, then wrapped herself up in a robe. With her towel on her head, she sat down at her computer. She was used to cutting it short, but she got the confirmation email that her piece had arrived at the paper, with two minutes before her deadline.

She turned off her computer, went and changed into some nightwear, and was about to head to the kitchen when her phone rang. She answered it – it was her mother. "_When are you coming home, dear_?" her thick Italian accent rolling over her words.

Taylor rolled her eyes and headed straight to the wine rack, pulling out a fresh bottle of red, and poured herself a large glass as she propped her phone under her ear. "_Mamma_, I keep telling you, work is very busy at the moment." There was also the other fact that she too terrified of flying to do that anytime soon.

Her mother let out an aggravated sigh. "_Fine. Have you found yourself a _marito_, yet_?"

The conversation was going the same way it did every time. Taylor was tempted to just let her machine get all her calls in the future. She headed back to her living room and over to the window, watching the rain lash at her window. "No, mother, I am still a single woman," she told her, even though she was tempted to turn around and say something completely different.

"_You should be on the lookout, you know. You're just about to get past your prime, and no man will want you then._"

"Gee, thanks, mother." She turned around, and let out a small yelp, dropping her glass of wine and the phone to the carpet. Standing in front of her, again, was Rebecca. "You!" she cried, ignoring the panicked shouts coming from the phone on the floor.

"Help me," said Rebecca.

"I _have_ helped," Taylor told her. "What more do you want from me?"

"Help me."

The cries from the phone were growing louder, so Taylor bent down and retrieved her phone. "Sorry, _mamma_, I have to go." She hung up before her mother could say anything, and turned back to the ghost. Except she wasn't there. "I'm losing my mind," she muttered wearily. She made her way back to the kitchen for a sponge, ignoring the phone which was ringing again.

Taylor mopped up the red wine from her cream carpet – it was never going to come out – and was busy rinsing the sponge out when she heard her again. "Help me."

Taylor whirled around. "What else can I do? Seriously?"

Rebecca opened up the palm of her hand. Taylor cautiously crept over and eyed up the item she was holding. It was a picture of a tattoo – a cross with a dragon entwined around it.

"Who does that belong to?" Taylor asked her helplessly.

"Help me." Rebecca vanished.

Taylor resisted the urge to start shouting, and instead decided to call it a night. Returning to the precinct would wait until the following morning. It was getting late, and she was tired, besides, they probably wouldn't still be there at this hour, and she didn't want to deal with _another_ set of detectives questioning her. She headed to her bed and pulled the covers up around her, flicking on the television before turning the lights out. With a _Sex and the City_ marathon showing, she made herself comfortable. An hour later, she was fast asleep.

She awoke, with the TV still on, and peaked open her eyes. Standing opposite was Rebecca, watching her sleep. She bolted upright in bed. "Are you kidding me?" she yelled.

"Help me."

Taylor really wanted to throw something large and heavy at her. "_Help me_? Is that all you can say?"

"Help me."

Taylor flung her head back and began hitting it against the leather covered bedhead behind her. "Fine," she growled. "I'm going." She pulled back her covers and got out of bed. She pulled on another pair of black combat pants and a cerise camisole, along with a pair of running shoes, before grabbing a jacket, and an umbrella.

With it being so late in the night, she opted to take the brightly lit route, rather than the one she had taken earlier, adding a few extra blocks to the route, making the journey longer. She arrived at the precinct and went in, heading straight to the front desk. "Can I help you, ma'am?"

"I'm looking for a Detective Taylor," she sighed.

"He's next door, thirty fifth floor."

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "He's still here, even at this time?"

"He's a strange one. Always seems to be working," the officer frowned. "If you didn't think he would be there, why did you come?"

Taylor just smiled at him, and hurried back out of the building. She figured it was a better option than saying, _well, if I didn't, a certain ghost wasn't going to let me sleep._ She headed next door and took the lift up. The doors pinged open to a well lit, modern looking lab. There were people busy working in glass-walled rooms, but the reception desk was un-manned, leaving no one around to help her. Taking a deep breath, she began walking down the corridor until she heard voices filtering out of one of the rooms.

"So, you're telling me that the only reason we managed to identify the girl was because some nut came in claiming that she saw her ghost?" she could hear one male voice say.

"Oh, she's not just any nut. She's the nut who writes the _Crime Files_." She recognized that voice – it belonged to the other detective she had spoken to earlier, Detective Flack.

"Taylor Turner is a chick?" said the first voice.

"And what's wrong with that, Messer?" came a third voice – a female – not a native to the state, like the others were.

"She doesn't write like a chick, that's all. Don't get all feminist on me, Montana."

_Montana? Well, that explains the accent._ Taylor thought.

"Who cares whether she's a chick or not. She's needs a psych evaluation, that's what she needs," said Flack.

That was it. Taylor was going home. Or at least, that was her intention, until she turned around straight and walked straight into Detective Taylor. "Miss Turner?"

"Hi," she squeaked, offering a weak grin.

He watched her carefully. "And how can I help you at this hour?"

Taylor rubbed at the back of her neck. "Actually, I'm here to help you again."

Mac eyed the woman up and down, nodded, and then ushered her into the room she had just been eavesdropping on. The three occupants looked up from the coffee they were drinking, and over at the journalist.

"Back, huh?" smirked Flack.

"Yeah. I just wanted to make sure you were absolutely certain I was a _nut_ before I went to visit a shrink," Taylor shot at him.

Flack had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable.

"Danny, Lindsay," said Mac, "This is Taylor Turner."

"Two Taylors? Well that could get a little confusing," muttered Danny, as Lindsay suppressed a grin.

"Don't worry," assured Taylor, "I'm not sticking around long enough for names to become an issue."

"Why _are_ you here, Miss Turner?" Flack asked her.

Taylor shut her eyes. "It turns out that Rebecca hasn't finished with me yet. She came back."

"The dead girl came and saw you. _Again?"_ asked Flack. If she hadn't just heard him refer to her as a nut, his tone left no question about his opinion of her.

Taylor opened her eyes to glare at him. "Do you really think I like seeing a dead girl with a knife sticking out of her standing in the middle of my apartment," she growled.

"It depends on your definition of _seeing _a dead girl," Flack argued.

Taylor threw her arms in the air in exasperation, "You know what? Never mind. Forget it! I clearly made a mistake coming here in the first place." She stormed out of the room and back to the elevator.


	4. Unrestricted By A Warrant

**Chapter 3: Unrestricted By A Warrant**

Taylor was stood jamming her thumb repeatedly against the call button when she was joined by the curly-haired detective she had met earlier in the bathroom. "Journalist," she greeted her with a nod of her head.

"Criminalist," Taylor greeted her back, hiding how irritated she was feeling.

"Stella Bonasera," she said, smiling and holding out her hand.

Taylor took it and returned the smile, "Taylor Turner."

"The _Crime Files_ author?" Taylor nodded. "Are you here for a case?"

"No, I'm here making an idiot of myself."

Stella looked amused. "An idiot? How?"

Taylor looked at the detective and sighed, "If I said that a ghost of a victim kept appearing in my apartment, asking me to help them, what would you say?"

Stella frowned. "In all honesty, I'd ask what you'd been drinking."

Taylor shrugged her shoulders, "And _that's_ why I'm making an idiot of myself. So now, I'm trying to find remaining shred of dignity I have, and leave."

"What did your ghost tell you this time?"

Stella and Taylor turned around to find Flack and Mac watching them. "You believe me now?" Taylor asked Flack, who had asked the question.

"Nah," Flack shook his head, pulling a face. "I just want to see exactly how deluded you are."

If looks could have killed, Flack would have been dying a very painful death at that point. Thankfully, the lift appeared and Taylor stormed into it, jamming her thumb against the button again. The doors shut and she leant against the wall, but just as soon as she did, the doors opened again, and Mac stepped halfway in, preventing the lift from going anywhere.

"Miss Turner, we're having trouble verifying the Chinese delivery. Which takeaway did you use?"

"Lee's. Off Fifty-ninth. Anything else?" she asked, trying not to roll her eyes.

"You do realize that you cannot write about anything you know about the case, don't you?" Mac finally asked her. "Not only would a leak damage the reputation of the lab, but it would also affect the outcome of the verdict when it goes to court."

"I am perfectly aware of what I can write about, and what I can't write about. I didn't come here snooping," Taylor informed him, her tone like acid. "And if you actually read my column, you'd notice that I don't discuss specifics of current crimes. I came here to give you the latest piece of information Rebecca gave me."

"And what information did you come up here with this time?" Flack asked, repeating his earlier question as he came up behind Mac.

Taylor snorted. "You've just told me you don't believe me, so why do you care?"

"Miss Turner?" Mac pressed.

Taylor sighed. "A tattoo. A cross with a dragon. All in black."

"The victim didn't have a tattoo," Mac frowned.

Taylor shrugged. "Well then, it belongs to the killer."

"And did your ghost tell you who the killer was?" asked Flack sceptically

"No. She doesn't say anything other than _help me_. It's bad enough she keeps appearing, yet she can't say anything else." Taylor smirked at him. "Besides, you're the detective. Detect."

"That's original!" said Flack, rolling his eyes at her.

"Thank you, Miss Turner," interrupted Mac, "But a tattoo isn't something we can be going on with. As a crime writer, you should understand we can't just arrest everyone with a tattoo."

Taylor sighed, "I know. Sorry, but…" She shook her head. "Never mind."

"Good evening," said Mac as he stepped back and finally allowed the doors to close.

"You hear that, Rebecca?" she said to the empty elevator as it began its descent, "I'm done now. Let me get some sleep!"

. . .

By two o'clock the following afternoon, Taylor had managed an undisturbed sleep. She had managed to call in to see her editor about upcoming articles and an upcoming ball, done her grocery shopping, stopped off at the gym, and come home to start on her next article. After a morning of normality, Taylor was almost convinced that she hadn't seen a ghost, rather had a weird dream, with the explanation of Rebecca being she had seen her picture in the papers.

That was until she was busy doing her ironing. And Rebecca appeared again. Taylor was so startled, she dropped the iron on the other hand to the one she had burnt on her straightening irons the previous day (and was now bandaged up).

"Help me."

"Stop saying that!" Taylor shrieked as she removed the iron from her hand. "And stop coming to see me!"

"Help me."

"Seriously, I have been to the police and they think I am a joke," Taylor responded through gritted teeth. "On top of that, the information you gave me – they can't use. It's useless. Go haunt a detective. In fact, go pay that Flack a visit."

"Help me."

Taylor shut her eyes and counted to ten. At that moment in time, she was finding the urge to throw the iron at the ghost far too tempting. "What do you expect me to do?" she asked her, slightly more calmly as she opened her eyes.

"Help me."

Taylor bit her lip. Well, that was a stupid question to ask, really. "But that's just it. I can't. I'm not a detective – I'm a journalist." It was like someone had turned a light on. "And a journalist," she thought out slowly, "Can go where a detective can't unless he has a warrant."

The ghost smiled at her and vanished. Taylor smiled at the spot Rebecca had been standing, a plan forming in her mind.

Half an hour later, she had changed into a smart, black skirt-suit, pinned her hair back, replaced her contacts with a pair of glasses, and was sitting in a cab making her way to the other side of the island. It pulled up outside _Carol Anne Lewis Preparatory School_, and she paid the driver.

After telling the secretary who she was, the principal, David Roberts, agreed to see her instantly. So there she was, sat on a plush leather seat on the other side of the principal's desk. She smiled at him, "It's been a long time since I was in a principal's office."

"You were a trouble maker?"

Taylor chucked, "Journalist on the school paper. The last time I was in a principal's office, I was rooting through his files."

"And is that why you're here?" the bald man asked her.

Taylor shook her head, "I'm trying something new. One of your girls was found murdered."

"Yes," he said gravely, "Rebecca Landry. Very smart girl."

"You knew her then?"

"Of course. She was an honor roll student who'd just been accepted into Yale."

"Did she have any enemies?" Taylor asked him. After she had given the detectives all the information that she knew, she was certain they would have been to question people here at the school, and inevitably, that would be one of the first questions. But it couldn't hurt to ask it again.

"Not that I know of. Everyone loved her. The kids set up a memorial for her in the dinner hall," he told her, his voice braking slightly.

Taylor frowned. In her opinion, Roberts was taking this just a little too badly. She got up, and leant over the desk, resting her hand on his arm, "How well did you know Rebecca?"

The principal recoiled instantly, "Just what are you insinuating, Miss Turner."

"I… nothing," she said, hurriedly withdrawing her hand.

"I think that you should leave now," he told her, his demeanor suddenly becoming icy.

Taylor stared at him for a moment, and then got up. She was about to leave when she turned around for one final question, "Do you have a tattoo, Mr. Roberts?"

"No," he told her, shortly.

"Thank you for your time," she told him, and walked out of the office, the principal right behind her. As Taylor left, she heard him tell his secretary that he was done for the evening. He left the building so quickly, he didn't notice Taylor, who was loitering around. As soon as he turned the corner, she went back into the school.

She spotted the secretary and went over to talk to her. She was sat at her desk sorting out the mail. "Hi there," she greeted the woman, a bright smile on her face.

The secretary looked up from a letter she was holding in her hand. "Yes?"

Taylor continued to smile, even though the woman's shortness was a bit rude. "So, how do you like working here? It seems like a really nice school."

"It's alright."

"Did you ever meet Rebecca?"

"Once or twice. She was always going to see David," she said with a scowl on her face.

Taylor frowned. "Really? I was under the impression she was a good student."

"She was."

"_Really_?"

The secretary stared at her, silently telling her to drop it. Taylor glanced down at the name in front of her. "So, Janice," she started, trying a different approach, "How long have you been working here?"

'Sixteen years."

"Wow, you must really like your job."

"Not as long as David," Janice responded warily. "He's been here just over twenty years."

"Jeeze, that's a lot of girls coming through his doors," Taylor muttered, mentally trying to do the math.

"You have no idea," Janice responded darkly.

Taylor frowned. "Twenty years? What did that get him? Something China?"

Janice smirked. "Rebecca was in charge of buying him a commemorative item. Only she got confused and got something for the thirty year anniversary."

"Thirty years? What's that? Silver?"

'Silver is twenty-five years," Janice explained. "Pearl is thirty years. She got him a twin set of letter openers."

"Really?" asked Taylor, her eyes lighting up. "Wow, that's thoughtful. Where are the letter openers now?"

"Why," Janice asked suspiciously.

"Oh, uh, I thought it would be a nice angle to run with, you know," Taylor shrugged. "Model student buys principal present."

Janice shrugged and pulled out one of the knives from under the stack of papers on her desk and handed it over.

"This looks pretty expensive," Taylor told her, casually turning it over in her hands, even though she recognised it the moment Janice had taken hold of it.

"Well, these girls aren't exactly lacking in money."

Taylor looked at the woman. "Where's the other?"

Janice shrugged. "Around somewhere," she answered vaguely.

Taylor nodded and looked up, before dropping the knife in shock. Standing behind Janice was Rebecca, pointing at the secretary. Janice looked up at the journalist. "Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

If only she knew. Taylor shook her head and picked up the knife. "Yeah, sorry, I spaced out there," she explained quickly. She held the knife out, but as Janice went to grab it, 'accidentally' dropped it on the floor.

As Janice leant over to pick up the knife, her blouse came away from the top of her trousers to reveal her lower back. And the tattoo of a cross and dragon on it.

Janice righted herself and looked at Taylor. She smiled, then walked out from behind the desk, over to the door. Taylor watched her, the blood running from her face as Janice locked the door. She turned back to face Taylor, the knife still in her hand.

"You know."

Taylor froze. "Know what?"

"My little secret," Janice told her slowly, advancing towards her.

Taylor slowly began moving backwards. She was not trained to deal with someone attacking her, let alone someone armed with a knife. She gulped. "I don't know what you're talking about, Janice. But you're beginning to scare me," she said, trying to joke.

"I guess it will have to be our little secret now." Janice told her quietly.

Taylor's back hit the wall. "Yeah, I can keep secrets."

"You're a journalist. You can't keep secrets. The dead can, however."

"_Open the door!" _There was a banging at the door. _"NYPD!"_

"HELP!" Taylor screamed.

As the door burst open, Taylor found herself being grabbed by Janice and a knife being held at her throat.

"Put down the knife!" yelled Mac - one of the officers who had burst through the door.

"You have nowhere to go," shouted Flack – one of the other officers - his gun trained on Janice.

Taylor was frozen to the spot. She could honestly say she had never been this frightened in her life.

"I'm going nowhere," shrieked Janice, as she jabbed the knife just enough to nick Taylor. For a letter opener, the knife was surprisingly sharp.

Suddenly, Rebecca appeared in front of Taylor and Janice. Taylor was about to tell the ghost that now was not the best time to be asking for help, when she felt Janice drop the knife, as she gasped Rebecca's name.

. . .

Taylor stood watching Flack interview Janice through the two-way mirror. She had finally stopped shaking, and was nursing a cup of coffee. Janice had confessed everything, saying the ghost of Rebecca had come back to haunt her. _About time Rebecca moved onto the next victim_, Taylor thought wryly.

Behind her, the door opened and Mac entered. Taylor looked up at him and started to smile, until she saw the look on his face. "What?"

"You are not a detective," he began angrily. "You could have been killed."

"Well you guys didn't seem to be in any hurry to find her killer."

"We follow evidence, not hallucinations of an overworked journalist."

"Number one, I am not overworked, number two, I was not hallucinating. _She _saw her," Taylor told him, just as angrily, pointing to Janice.

"That woman thought she was in a relationship with the principal. She also thought that Rebecca was. She's crazy, that's why she thinks she's seeing ghosts."

Taylor slammed the cup of coffee onto a table, spilling it over the edge of the cup, but she didn't notice. "If I'm crazy, how did I get to the murderer before you?"

"In all honesty, I don't know, Miss Turner. But one thing is for certain, there are no such things as ghosts."

"Have you ever seen one?"

"No, because they don't exist."

Taylor let out an exasperated groan. "You deal with science, and I get that. But there are some things in the world that science can't explain."

"There are explanations to everything," Mac told her calmly.

"Yeah, I agree, and in this instance, it was a ghost."

Mac eyed her wearily. "Regardless of what you saw, or think you saw, you should not have gone to that school. We would have gotten there as soon as we had processed the evidence."

"I just happened to get there quicker," she pointed out.

"You shouldn't have gotten there at all. You should have left your information with us and let us do our jobs."

"What, the, a ghost told me… you didn't believe me. The poor girl's spirit was trapped, and she didn't look like she was going to leave me alone anytime soon."

"If you feel the need to get involved in a case in future, you run it by me first," he told her before walking out.

Taylor watched him leave. She hadn't seen anyone be that calm, and yet that angry at the same time before. That, however, wasn't her problem anymore.

. . .

A little over a week later, and the rain had finally stopped. It was a bright and sunny - although, still cold– the perfect day for a funeral. Rebecca's body had finally been released, and thanks to her friend in the obituaries section, Taylor had found out when the funeral was.

She was stood to the back, out of the way of the grieving family and friends, watching the coffin be lowered, when she became aware of someone stood next to her. She turned and found it was Rebecca, dressed in white, minus the knife. She looked at peace.

"Thank you."

Taylor's mouth dropped open – she had learnt a new phrase? "You're welcome," she said, stumbling over the words. "Take care in the next life."

Rebecca smiled. "They'll come around eventually. They'll have to."

"Who?" She was too in shock at the ghost's new found ability to articulate sentences that she couldn't manage much else.

"Tell Detective Taylor that Claire says, _let out the air and let go. There's someone else for him to love now."_

"Let out the air? What does that mean?" Taylor didn't get a reply. Rebecca just smiled and faded away.

"Talking to your ghosts?" Taylor turned around to find Mac dressed in a smart black suit. "You look confused," he told her, commenting on the expression on her face.

"That was Rebecca."

Mac looked at her sceptically. "Right."

Taylor shook her head softly and listened to the preacher say his final prayers, before the crowd began to disperse. "I didn't expect you to be here."

"There are some cases where I try to get to the funeral. This is one of them."

Taylor watched him watching the mourning people leave, and took a deep breath. "Who's Claire?"

Mac turned his head so sharply, Taylor was almost certain he'd acquired a crick in it. "Have you been researching me?" he asked angrily.

"No, I-"

"I am not going to comment on anything for your article."

Taylor shook her head, "No, Rebecca, she said, someone called Claire said to tell you to _let the air go._" She instantly regretted saying anything when his mouth dropped open and tears began to form in the corner of her eyes.

"I only ever told one person that," he muttered, briefly looking away.

"What," she paused, "What did Rebecca mean?"

"My wife, Claire died on 9/11," he said softly, almost as if he didn't believe he was telling her this. "When it came to… to packing her stuff away, the only thing I couldn't throw out was a beach ball. She had blown it up."

Taylor nodded, looking at her feet, which had suddenly become interesting, feeling even guiltier. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled. She looked up at him to find him smiling softly.

"That's something Claire would say."

"She…" she hesitated, but decided to carry on, "Rebecca also said to tell you that there's someone else for you to love now."

Mac smiled, "Maybe there is."

Taylor watched him – he was looking like he almost didn't think she was crazy anymore – and smiled back. She watched two men begin to fill in the hole. There was just one small thing bothering her now – the fact that Rebecca had said _they'll have to_. Just what did she mean by that?


	5. Flying Shoes

**Chapter 4: Flying Shoes**

It had been almost a month since Taylor had last seen Rebecca, or any other ghost for that matter. Life had returned to normal, and she had yet to go anywhere near a police precinct again. So there she was, dressed up to the nines, in a short, strappy , little red number, in one of the most exclusive restaurants on the Manhattan island, on a date with the tall, dark handsome guy that she had been dying to ask out for ages.

In her opinion, it was turning out to be one of the best dates she'd been on in a very long time. She was sat listening to him talk, rather than focusing on the French food she was subconsciously chasing around her plate. Actually, that was a lie – she was more focused on his dreamy eyes.

"…And that's how I ended up majoring in philosophy at Rice."

Taylor smiled and went for her glass of wine.

"You know," he told her, as she took a sip, "Red really suits you."

Taylor smiled and was about to respond, when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She screamed. Loudly. She jumped to her feet, knocking the table. Standing just to her left was a man, probably in his late thirties – it was a little hard to tell, considering half of his body had been badly burnt. "Help us."

"Oh, my God, are you alright?" Taylor asked in horror. Her eyes flickered around the room, wondering why no one was trying to offer the man some form of aid.

"Help us."

It was then Taylor realised, the man was no longer alive. "Who's us?"

"Help us." The man opened up his hand, and Taylor peered in. He was holding the corner of something that looked like a brown bag, with a logo on it of a pig in a triangle. "What is that?"

"Help us." The man vanished, leaving Taylor to realise three things. Firstly, she'd seen another ghost, secondly, he was just as articulate as the first, and thirdly, she was standing in the middle of one of New York City's most exclusive restaurants, ignoring her date to talk to ghosts.

She turned to look at him. He was busy mopping up a glass of red wine she must have knocked all over him, in between glaring at her in a mixture of anger and, well concern that she was completely off her rocker.

"I am so sorry, Matthew," she gushed, grabbing her napkin to help mop up the wine.

"What the hell was that about?" he demanded.

"I, uh… I saw a ghost?" she offered.

Wrong answer. Matthew stood up, knocking her arm to the side. "You know what, I have to go. I have to go wash my hair."

Taylor stood gaping after him as he walked off. She slumped down onto her seat, and glanced around. Everyone around her was staring at her as if she was crazy – some of them looking worried. Taylor reached over, set her glass upright, and poured herself a fresh one from the bottle which had miraculously managed to stay upright.

As she gulped the stuff down, her face a very similar colour to her dress, the waiter came over and placed the bill down on the table. Her "date" had disappeared leaving her to pay the entirety of a $200 bill.

By the time Taylor had paid, to say she was in a bit of a foul mood was something of an understatment. The situation wasn't helping, when, as she was storming along the street, her heel snapped. By the time she had reached the crime lab – she had decided going to that Mac Taylor was a better option than trying to talk to another detective – her mood had decreased dramatically from "a bit." She was also in such a foul mood, that she didn't realise she'd left her jacket at the restaurant until she was at the steps of the crime lab, despite the fact it was the beginning of March.

As she got out at the appropriate floor, it was just as busy as it had been the first time she had gone there. The reception desk was once again unmanned and she was in too bad a mood to be waiting around for someone to appear. Instead, she somewhat limped along back to the only room she knew – the break room .

The break room was empty, so she decided to do something about her shoe. She was bent over undoing the buckle, when someone behind her let out a low whistle, "I oughtta arrest you for having a skirt that short and legs that long."

Taylor got up slowly and turned around to find Flack – whose expression suddenly changed from one of admiration to one of shock – and another two male CSIs; Danny, and a black man she had never met before. "Does that line actually work?" she asked him, eyebrow cocked upwards.

Flack glared at her, "What the hell are you doing here? Had a visit from Casper?"

Taylor refrained the urge to throw the shoe, which was now in her hand, at his head. "Yes, actually."

Flack burst out laughing.

"Man, is this what modern-day Ghostbusters wear, cus I'm in the wrong profession," muttered Danny, as he eyed her up and down.

"No. I was on a date."

Flack laughed harder, "Don't tell me you told him you could see ghosts?"

That was it; the shoe was gone before Taylor could help it. It smacked him in the middle of his chest and fell to the floor. "Do you think I want to see half burnt bodies in the middle of restaurants?" she demanded, angrily.

Flack made to move forward, but the black man stepped in front of him, stopping him. "Have I missed something?"

"This here, Hawkes, is Taylor Turner. And she thinks she can see ghosts," said Flack, glaring at her.

"You're the woman that writes _Crime Files_?" Hawkes asked in surprise. "I really like that column – you don't glamorize crime, but the piece is never boring."

Taylor smiled, "Thank you."

"Miss Turner," said Mac, appearing in the doorway, with Stella, behind the other men.

"Hi Detective Taylor."

"Taylor, I love your dress," said Stella, giving the journalist a smile, "What is that? Gucci?"

"It's not designer," she smiled, shaking her head – she was beginning to like the female detective – nice and friendly.

"And to what do we owe this visit? More dead bodies?" asked Mac.

"With all due respect, detective, I _really_ wouldn't be here otherwise. However, as this one decided to ruin my date, I figured I would make an appearance." She sighed, "I'm here about the burnt body."

"Well, I can officially let you know, you are crazy. We don't have any burnt body cases. So your hallucination was wrong," snorted Flack.

Well," Taylor frowned, "Perhaps he just wants me to help you find him."

"He? He asked you to find him and interfere in another case? Should we be expecting to find you at gun point, later?"

Taylor crossed her arms and began tapping her fingers against one of them, "For the record, Detective Flack, I didn't expect to find myself with a knife at my neck. I was just going to see if I could find out any information. And as for this ghost, he was there, and I could even smell him."

"You sure the chef hadn't just burnt something?" he scoffed.

Taylor glared at him. If she had still been holding her shoe, it would have been thrown again – she was tempted to take the other one off especially – the man just infuriated her. "Do you believe in God?"

"Yes."

"Then why is it so hard to believe that there could be ghosts. In fact, I tell you what," she turned to Mac, "I will find this body, and his killer. You're going to have to do all the procedures you do, because lord knows I did a joint English and Mass Com degree, and not a science one, but I'll get this case solved."

Mac stared at with his grey eyes giving nothing away. And then he did the exact opposite to what Taylor expected – he nodded.

"Mac, are you serious?" exclaimed both Danny and Flack.

"You are not to touch anything. Anywhere. But you can tell us where to look." Taylor's mouth dropped open. "_And_ I don't want to see a word of this in the _New York Daily_."

"Yeah, fine." Taylor told him, agreeing quickly before he could change his mind.

"Danny," said Mac, turning to the younger man. "You and Sheldon are going to wrap up the case you and Stella were working on," he turned to Stella, "You want to work with me and Miss Turner?"

"Taylor," said Taylor, still grinning, "If we're going to be working together, please, call me Taylor."

"Taylor," said Mac.

"You ever get the feeling this could get real confusing," Danny muttered to Hawkes as the two left the room.

"Alright, Taylor, what do you have for us to work with?" Mac asked her expectantly.

"A pig."

"As in Babe?" asked Flack, an eyebrow raised.

"No, as in a logo," Taylor responded, slowly.

Stella walked over and wrapped her arm around the younger woman, "How about we get you in something a little more appropriate, and then we'll make our way into the lab."

Taylor nodded and walked over to Flack. She smiled brightly before bending down to pick up her shoe, "Sorry, my hand slipped," she told him, before following Stella out of the room.


	6. Playing Criminalist

**Chapter 5: Playing Criminalist**

A short while later, Taylor was sat at a computer with Mac and Stella (Flack was standing just behind, arms crossed, sceptical expression on his face) running through the logo and font database. She still looked like the proverbial million dollars, even though she was now wearing a crime lab overall and a spare pair of running shoes.

Stella had run a search on "pig" and the computer had kicked out a little over three hundred matches. They were about halfway through the matches when Taylor spotted a match, "That one."

Stella nodded and pulled up the details, "Are you sure?"

"Definitely."

"Taylor, this is a logo for a slaughterhouse which specializes in supplies for dog meat."

"And?" asked a puzzled Taylor.

"It got closed down about a decade ago."

Flack burst out laughing, "Off to a good start, I see."

Taylor shot a quick glare at him, and then turned back to the monitor. "No, it's definitely the logo," she sighed, "What happened to the slaughterhouse?"

Stella opened another program and ran a quick check, "It's over on Staten Island, near the Monastery. Empty building."

"Well, let's go check it out," Taylor shrugged.

Flack rolled his eyes as Mac nodded and walked out of the door, followed closely by Stella. Taylor made to go after them, but he grabbed her arm and stopped her. "Not likely."

"Detective, you either let me go, or I will go over there myself."

Mac stuck his head back around the door, "You can come," he told her, as though he had heard her make that statement – which he probably had, "But you do not leave the car until we have secured the scene."

Taylor smirked at Flack then almost skipped out of the room to follow Mac and Stella to the SUVs.

A short while later, the three of them pulled up outside the abandoned slaughterhouse, Flack pulling up in a black and white, just behind them.

Taylor stood staring up at the building, its backdrop framed by the Staten Island Monastery. It looked so dark in there, the lack of moon not helping, that she was secretly glad she didn't have to go in. She wasn't scared of ghosts – only a little irritated with them, in all honesty – it was the living things that worried her. The buildings around her had bad reputations for being haunted – but it wasn't ghosts that haunted them – rather gangs and criminals. After the nice incident with a knife being held to her throat, Taylor had no desire to go into that building unless she had a gun… which she didn't.

She leant against the hood of the car as Mac and Stella headed to the back to collect some torches. "Stay here," said Mac, drawing his gun. "I mean it, Taylor. We need to secure this scene."

"Mac, I have no intention of leaving this car. I promise you that," she told him, as she wrapped a spare CSI jacket Stella handed her, around herself.

"I'll stay here with Taylor," said Flack.

Stella looked at him and laughed, "You know, the ghosts are more likely to visit her than you meet one in there."

Flack glared at her, "I just want to make sure she stays put."

Even Mac managed a small smile as the two CSIs walked away. As they walked into the building, Taylor let out the laugh she had been struggling to hold in.

Flack crossed his arms and turned his glares in her direction, "Shut up."

"Oh, no," chuckled Taylor, "I get it now! It's not that you don't believe in ghosts, it's that you don't want to. You're scared of ghosts."

"I am not scared of ghosts!" he cried indignantly.

"Yeah. You are." She stopped laughing suddenly and froze, staring at something behind Flack, in the slaughterhouse.

"What?" asked a slightly suspicious Flack.

Taylor just slowly raised her arm and pointed. Just as slowly, Flack turned around. As soon as his back was to her, Taylor grabbed him, "BOO!"

Flack left into the air. When he realised what had happened, he whirled around so fast he slipped slightly on the muddy ground, to find Taylor in hysterics leaning against the car.

"THAT WAS NOT FUNNY!" he roared.

Taylor looked at his purple face and laughed harder, "Yeah," she gasped, "It was!"

Flack took one last furious look at her, before storming off and sitting in his squad car. Taylor calmed herself down, and looked at him sulking, arms crossed, glaring at the steering wheel. It was so pathetic, it was verging on cute. She took a final deep breath to calm herself, and walked over to his car, and tapped on the window. He ignored her, staring stonily in front of him. Taylor knocked again, "I'm sorry, alright. I couldn't resist."

Flack wound the window down, continuing to stare ahead.

"I won't do it again, I promise."

She was saved from a response by Mac, who had radioed Flack, causing them both to jump, _"Flack, we're going to need the area secured. There's a body."_

. . .

A short time later, the scene was secure, and Taylor was stood waiting for Mac and Stella to collect their things so that she could walk onto her first crime scene.

"You remember what you agreed?" Mac asked her as he joined her.

Taylor nodded, pulling on the pair of gloves Mac insisted she wear, "Only stand where you tell me, and don't touch anything."

Mac nodded and walked into the building. Taylor followed and he led her through a maze of corridors to a large room. It was clear that it was once a slaughterhouse – when it had been shut down, no-one had been bothered to clear much of it out. Mac pointed to a spot, but before Taylor could walk over, she spotted the body. It was one thing to see a ghost – despite the 'injuries' because they were upright and talking, they didn't seem dead – but to see a body lying on the floor… that was another thing all together.

She could feel the bile beginning to rise, so she turned and fled, both to get outside and away from the lingering smell of dead, burnt flesh, and also because she knew if she threw up, she'd contaminate the scene. She barely made it out before she was throwing up against the wall outside, her hands pressed up against it as she bent over. When her stomach finally settled – French cuisine and dead bodies didn't make the best combination – she rolled around, and slumped against the wall, taking deep breaths.

"First body?"

It figured that the person who came after her was him, "Yeah." If anyone was going to come, she had been hoping it was Stella, or even Mac. She turned her head to face him, expecting him to be gloating, but he wasn't. He was actually looking… did she dare say it… concerned?

"I had been working a month before I saw my first body. Husband had put a gun to his wife's head. Brain matter everywhere. Kinda looked like the porridge I'd eaten for breakfast."

Taylor retched, turning quickly to throw up again.

"Never ate the stuff again," he told her, as he rubbed her back.

"I write about this stuff regularly, but I have never seen a dead body before… I mean, I see them alive, or at least 'walking' around as a ghost, but to see them lying there…" she turned back around, "It's the smell."

"Wait until you smell a decomp."

Taylor paled again, "Please tell me that's not what I think it is."

"No, it's pretty much that. The liquid version of a human. Smells dreadful – takes forever to get out of your hair."

Taylor conjured up the image, but instead of feeling the urge to be sick again, she laughed.

"What?"

"No, it's just that, I don't think the ghost of a decomp would visit me – it wouldn't have a mouth to repetitively tell me to help it."

Flack shook his head, "Look, Mac says if you don't want to go back in, you don't have to."

"No," she said determinedly, "I set out to prove something, and I'm not going to be able to unless I go back in there."

Flack shrugged, "Whatever," he told her, following her back in.

Taylor walked straight back into the room and over to the spot Mac had previously pointed to.

"You alright, Taylor?" Stella asked her, looking up from whatever it was she was staring at intently under her torch.

Taylor smiled and nodded, "Yeah, thanks."

Stella smiled back and turned her attention back to processing the scene.

Several hours later – Taylor never realised how long it took to actually process a scene – and all the evidence had been bagged and tagged, and the body had just been taken away.

Taylor was about to follow the other three out, who were ready to leave, when she spotted something from the corner of her eye. On the far side was the ghost, pointing to something on the floor. Taylor cocked her head at him, "What?"

Mac, Stella and Flack stopped and turned around, "No-one said anything," said Stella.

Taylor ignored her, watching the ghost.

"Help us," it said, still pointing at the ground.

Taylor frowned and started to walk over. As soon as she took a step, the ghost disappeared.

"Taylor?"

Taylor ignored Mac and walked until she reached the point that the ghost had been pointing to, close to where the body had been lying. The ghost has been pointing at a small gap in the dirt and dust ridden floorboards. Taylor frowned and looked around, ignoring the others who had walked over. She grabbed one of the meat hooks that had been abandoned, and using it as a crowbar, levered the floor board away. Underneath was a medal. She picked it up and held it for Mac and Stella to see.

"What's that?" Stella asked Mac.

"Southwest Asia Service Medal," he said. "Awarded to any member of the armed forces for service in prescribed geographical parts of the Middle East during Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm. But there is nothing about the victim that said _military_ to me."

"Well," said Taylor, "It was important to the victim, because his ghost pointed it out."


	7. Seeing Your First Dead Body

**Chapter 6: Seeing Your First Dead Body**

Taylor arrived at the crime lab the following morning after only a few hours sleep. Taylor had gotten back from the crime scene at quite a late hour, and halfway through the night, she had awoken to find the yet-to-be-named ghost watching her sleep. Of course she told him there was nothing she could do until the morning – she couldn't run any evidence, and Mac had insisted that she go home and get some sleep – and of course, his response had been the usual "help us."

She had showered, straightened her hair, and dressed in her usual combat and camisole attire, _and_ had called in at a Starbucks on her way into the Lab. She was busy drinking her hot chocolate when she walked into the break room – she still had to be shown where anything other than a computer lab and the locker rooms were. The younger, female CSI was already in there, yawning over a cup of coffee. "Lindsay, right?"

Lindsay smiled, "Yeah. What are you doing back here?"

Taylor sighed, "I got another visit from a ghost."

"Oh… Right."

Another CSI that was too scientifically minded to believe in something such as a ghost. Ah well, perhaps solving this case would help. "Could you point me in the direction of either Mac, or Stella?"

"I'm behind you," said Stella – and she was, standing in the doorway, "Mac is running the prints off the DB. I'm going to the morgue for a COD and TOD, if you would care to join me? You can stay here if you don't feel like facing the body again."

It was a very, very tempting offer. Taylor sighed, "No, I'd better come. He might appear and tell me something." She frowned, "Actually, if he appears, he's only going to say the same two words, but he might show me something."

Stella shrugged, "Whatever you want. But you don't have to stay if you don't want to."

Taylor nodded and followed her to the lift, and down to the basement where the morgue was. Never having been in a morgue before, Taylor was under the impression it would be a lot darker than it was, even though she knew the coroners needed a lot of light. Even so, she was still surprised when she walked in.

Just as they reached the inner door to the actual morgue – as opposed to a waiting/reception room – the door opened. A man who looked like he would be more at home at a sports game of some description, rather than leaving wearing a lab coat, came through.

"Morning, Marty. Shift finished?" Stella greeted him.

"Yeah, now I can go home and watch last night's game. Sid's waiting for you." He smiled and stood to one side, holding the door open. Stella smiled and walked through. Taylor did the same, but not before she noticed him giving her the once over. She returned the motion – he _was_ cute – then followed Stella into the Morgue.

Stella was stood next to a table with the dead body on, the coroner on the other side as Taylor walked over and joined them.

"Sid, this is Taylor Turner, she's a-"

"Stella, dear, I know who Miss Turner is," he offered his hand out. Taylor eyed it warily. "Don't worry, my dear, it's clean." She hesitated, but took it. Instead of shaking it, he brought it up to his lips and kissed it. "Miss Turner, it is an honour."

"Sid, are you flirting with my journalist?"

He grinned at Stella, "Two beautiful ladies in my morgue? Of course I'm flirting. Christmas has come early. Or late, depending on how you look at it," he told them with a smile. He pulled on a pair of gloves, and snapped his glasses on, before pulling the sheet back to reveal the victim's head. "John Doe died around between 8 and 9 last night."

"8:30," corrected Taylor.

Sid glanced up at her, over the top of his glasses, "I'm sorry?"

"Oh," said Taylor, realizing she said that out loud, "Sorry, I was taking mental notes, and, uh, went for the middle time." She told him quickly, ignoring the gaze she was getting from Stella.

"We can't be that specific with the time, Miss Turner," said Sid.

"Sorry," she apologised, hoping he would drop it.

With a final glance over the top of his glasses, Sid did actually drop it. "He didn't die quickly," he continued, pulling back the sheet further to reveal a still open Y-incision.

Taylor swallowed. She had never seen someone's organ's before. It was not a pretty sight.

"He was burnt alive. High traces of soot in his lungs. But it wasn't the smoke that killed him."

"Any other injuries?" Stella asked, with a quick glance at the very pale journalist stood next to her.

"Blow to the side of the head," he told her, turning the vic's head for a better view. Taylor stood back – she really didn't need to see that too.

"From the looks of things, the blow came from behind," Sid told them as he handed Stella an envelope containing pictures of the head wound. "There's also some trace," he grabbed a pair of tweezers and picked a fleck out.

Taylor could see the spec of whatever pull away from the bloody gash, sticking slightly to the blood, as he handed the piece over to Stella who had a piece of paper ready to collect it. She swallowed and took another small step back.

"It was the blow that killed him. It seems like the blow knocked him out, but the fire revived him. All the evidence shows that he put the fire out himself."

"Anything else?" Stella asked.

Sid shook his head. "No other markings on him. All in all, he was in good health."

"Right," said Stella, "We'll go get this processed."

"Come back soon, both of you," smiled Sid, as he took of his glasses. "It was nice meeting you, Miss Turner."

"You too," Taylor only just managed, before she practically ran out of the door. She was leaning against a wall when Stella caught up with her.

"You alright?"

Taylor nodded. She had managed to keep her churning stomach under control.

"Why did you say 8:30?"

"I was in the middle of dinner when his ghost appeared. I was out of there by 8:40, so he appeared about 8:30. Couldn't appear if he was alive."

Stella nodded.

The two of them went back upstairs and into Mac's office. He had just gotten off the phone as they sat down. "I ran the prints – nothing in the system. However," he said looking at Taylor, "You were right about the medal. We ran his blood, there wasn't a direct match, but we did find a relative in the army records. Lt. Neil Craig. I just got off the 'phone with his unit commander – he's currently stationed out in Iraq, but he was awarded a medal for his efforts."

"A Southwest Asia Service Medal?"

Mac nodded, "The very same. He also has a brother. They gave me the contact details for his mother."

"So where does that leave us?" Taylor asked.

"The evidence." said Mac.

"With breakfast," said Flack, as he entered the room holding up a big brown paper bag, and carrying a cardboard tray with four takeaway cups of coffee. "Bacon sandwiches, extra crispy," he told them, placing the bag down in front of Taylor.

Taylor could feel the blood rushing from her head, as her stomach started churning. If it wasn't for the fact she could sense she was about thirty second away from bringing up the content of her stomach and had already made a dash out of the door – she could hear Flack laughing – she would have thrown something at him. With her head down the toilet bowl, she realised that it would be a very long time before she would be able to eat either French food _or_ bacon again. And with that thought, she started throwing up.

She was sat on the cold tiled floor, still close to the toilet, when Stella came in and offered her a bottle of water.

"This isn't something that you have to get used to, you know," she told her, "It's not your job."

"Not by choice," Taylor muttered, as she took a swig. "These ghosts visit me for a reason, Stella, and I don't know why. They scare me a little, and they show me things I never want to see, but will never be able to forget, and I don't have a choice in the matter."

Stella crouched down next to her, "You really believe you see them, don't you?"

Taylor sighed, shut her eyes and rested her head against the wall, "I did some research, after the first time... after Rebecca. There are lots of explanations for sightings – geographical shifts, temperature changes, faulty electronics… but there are some things that cannot be explained." She paused, "I really don't know why they come to me, and given half the chance I would pass this _thing_ on to someone else. Dead bodies creep me out."

"I want to believe you, Taylor. But I just can't."

Taylor got to her feet and headed to the sink. "It's alright," she said sadly, "I only just believe it half the time."

"We'll be back in Mac's office, when you're ready."

Taylor nodded as the older woman left, and began to throw some water on her face. Leaning against the sink with both hands, she stared at her reflection, watching the water drip off her face. She frowned – maybe the ghosts had gotten the wrong person. Sure she was accepting the fact that she was seeing ghosts – admittedly she had her moments of weakness, but for the most part, she _had_ accepted that fact. But the actual dead bodies? The frown deepened. Only time would tell.


	8. One Down, Five To Go

**Chapter 7: One Down, Five To Go**

Taylor was sitting by herself in one of the evidence rooms. Mac and Stella were with Flack talking to the mother of the victim – Taylor had been asked if she wanted to join them, but she had declined as it hadn't seem fitting. The other reason was that she wasn't sure if she could handle her first grieving relative on the same day as seeing her first dead body. So instead, she was sat at one of the tables, going over the photos of the evidence that had been collected so far – Mac hadn't wanted to let her at the actual evidence as it would have jeopardized the chain of custody – not a problem as far as she was concerned,

She was slowly finding looking at the pictures of the body slightly easier the more she looked at them, but she was pretty certain the urge to eat wouldn't return to her for a few days at the least.

"Help them."

Taylor jumped and dropped one of the photographs on the floor. Instead of picking it up, she stared over at the ghost. She thought she would have been used to them popping up randomly by now, but obviously not. She took a deep breath, "What do you have for me now?"

This time, the ghost did something new. It walked over to her and picked the photo up. And then it opened his hand to show Taylor some dog tags. She only just had time to read the name when he disappeared. Her eyes focused on what was standing in the doorway behind where the ghost had been. It was Danny, rubbing his mouth with his finger. The look on his face saying one thing – complete confusion.

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

"You… that…it… paper…" he stuttered.

Taylor suddenly understood – he had seen the paper move upwards. She smiled.

Danny walked off muttering something along the lines of, _I really need to book me some time off_.

She chuckled and turned her attention to the photograph. It was one of the head wound. She frowned, put her elbows on the table and stared intently at it.

And that was where Mac and Stella found her a good hour later. Except, by then, the wound actually seemed to take shape. "I may be seeing things, but I think I can make something out," she told them.

Mac looked at the photograph, and then walked over to a draw and pulled out a thin marker and a thin sheet of plastic. Placing the plastic over the photograph, he handed the pen over to Taylor.

Taylor took the pen and started drawing as Stella sent Mac a look with a silent message – _what are you doing?"_

Mac shook his head sending one back – _don't worry._

There was a knock at the door, and a dark haired man in a lab coat stuck his head around the door. "I have the accelerant for you, Mac. Whiskey," he told them, giving Taylor a strange look.

"Thank you, Adam," said Mac, as he left.

Taylor sat back. She had drawn around an outline she thought she could see – a basic eagle in a fat rectangle.

Mac looked at the drawing, and frowned. He picked the photograph up, removing the drawing, the laid the drawing back over the top. "That's a United States Army eagle. From a ring, by the looks of things."

Stella took the photograph off him and had a look, "Well I'll be… well done, Taylor."

"Don't thank me, thank the ghost. He showed me the photograph."

"Robert Craig. His mother just positively ID'd the body."

"Did she say anything helpful?" Taylor asked, hopefully.

"She gave a reason as to why he may have been in the slaughterhouse," said Stella, taking a seat next to her and leafing through some of the photos. "Robert's father came back from Vietnam a broken man. Like many others he left his family for life on the streets. The slaughter house often has veterans sleeping on the floor."

"Apparently, Robert spent the last couple of years searching for his father." Said Mac.

"Well, the good news is he didn't find him," said Taylor.

"What makes you say that?" asked Stella.

"When Robert gave me the photo, he also showed me some dog tags, and the name was Kenneth Williamson, not something Craig. And he wouldn't have continued looking for his father if he had already found him, surely?"

"So you're saying our suspect is a veteran?" asked Mac, a frown on his face.

Taylor shrugged, "No, Robert's telling me that."

. . .

In the last nine years of living in New York, Taylor had frequently seen homeless people, occasionally taken pity and put a handful of dollar bills in their cups, or bought one or two a cup of coffee. She was always being told not to by her best friend, Maddy, who was a Brooklyn native, because it only encouraged them, but it didn't stop her. What she didn't realise was how many of them were actually veterans until she had started walking up and certain areas of the city with Mac, Stella and Flack.

"Did your ghost give us an address?" Flack muttered after having walked for several hours.

Mac had decided that they would have more luck if they split up. So he had gone one way, Stella had gone the other, and for some completely obscure reason, Taylor had been left with Flack. "The guy's homeless. What good would an address do?" she asked him, dryly. She still hadn't forgiven him for the bacon sandwich.

Flack shot a glare at her, "I didn't mean a house. He could have said _outside Luigi's Pizza_, or something equally helpful."

Taylor rolled her eyes, "They're not that helpful. They only manage the same phrase, over and over, and the clues are really cryptic, out of context."

"Look at the budding criminalist here."

"I don't want to be a criminalist, Flack. I was quite happy with my life, and the less time spent in the crime lab, the better."

Flack gave her a look before heading off to another homeless person. Taylor let out an exasperated sigh – this was exactly why she didn't want to be there – and followed him over.

"Do you know where we might find a Kenneth Williamson?"

"You mean Kenny?"

Flack shrugged, "Sure. You know where we can find Kenny?"

The man pointed across the street to a man lying down asleep in a doorway.

Flack walked off. "Thank you," Taylor said hurriedly, before chasing after him.

They stopped about ten feet away. The man was asleep. Taylor spotted his dog tags peaking out as Flack pulled out his phone and called Mac and Stella. Ten minutes later they had both arrived.

"Stay here," Mac told her as the three detectives made their way over. Taylor didn't need to be told that one twice – the guy had already killed one person.

"Wakey wakey," said Flack loudly, giving the man a prod.

"You'd better have a good enough reason for waking me," the man grumbled, getting to his feet, "I was having a nice dream about a big fat steak."

"How about murder?" said Mac as he flashed his badge.

"That's right, blame the guy who killed for his country. Just because I served my time in 'Nam, doesn't mean I killed someone since."

"No one is accusing you of anything, sir," said Stella, "We're just hoping you could answer a few questions for us." She pulled out a picture of the victim, taken from the autopsy table, "You recognise him?"

Taylor stopped listening when she noticed the ghost of Robert appear behind Kenny. He was pointing to a pocket on Kenny's combat trousers, which was poking out from underneath the large duffle coat he was wearing.

"Mac?" He didn't hear, so Taylor took a few steps forward. "Mac!" she tried again. She moved forward once more until she was stood behind Flack and Mac, "Mac!"

He turned around, "Taylor, I told you to stand over there."

"His bottom pocket on his right leg."

As Mac turned back to Kenny, Kenny leapt forward. As he did, Taylor stumbled backwards. Flack grabbed the man and threw him up against the wall, "Not a smart move there for someone being asked about a murder," yelled Flack as he pressed himself against the suspect to stop him struggling.

Mac quickly pulled a glove out and had a look in the pocket. "Kenny, want to explain why there's blood all over this ring?" he asked as he looked at the ring he pulled out.

"Entrapment!" Kenny cried, "Illegal searching!"

"No," said Flack, "But where you're going, I think there will be some illegal searching," he told him as he and Stella handcuffed him.

. . .

Taylor was sat in Mac's office some hours later, Mac, Stella and Flack stood opposite her. The blood on the ring had come back as a match to Robert and the markings on it had matched perfectly to the impression left in his head. As soon as Kenny had been told this, he confessed –he had been sleeping when Robert had awoken him, but Kenny had apparently been half asleep and thought it was a repeat of something that had happened in Vietnam – someone had tried to stab him whilst he was sleeping, so he used self defence. When he realised that it wasn't a dream he tried to dispose of the body. Mac, like the others had not believed it – Robert would have been thrashing around on the floor, but Kenny had done nothing to help him.

Flack's phone went off; he looked at it, mentioned something about another case, and disappeared. But not without shaking his head at Taylor, the message – he still didn't believe she could talk to ghosts.

She sat in silence for a while longer until Mac eventually spoke up, "I don't know about talking to ghosts, but you definitely helped out today, Taylor. Thank you."

Stella had a similar reaction, "I want to believe you still, but it all seems like coincidence still. I'm sorry, Taylor. I just need more proof."

Taylor smiled sadly, "Don't worry," she sighed, "But thank you for letting me in on the case. I never realised exactly what you guys do, and I know that I hope more than anything that I won't be back in here again."

She got up and left them. As she was waiting for the elevator, Robert appeared. "I was wondering when you would appear," she told him, observing the new white outfit and lack of burns.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"It's going to take time, but it's working."

Taylor raised an eyebrow, "They're scientists. Stella was right – it's going to take a little more than a few coincidences."

"Kids can almost always see spirits. Where do you think imaginary friends come from?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Tell Stella that Libby was real, and there was a reason as to why there was a red welt on her neck."

Robert disappeared. "You know, instead of constantly giving me cryptic messages, you could just appear to one of them," she muttered as she ignored the doors opening behind her and headed back to Mac's office.

She paused in front of the door and watched the two interacting. She couldn't quite put her finger on what the relationship was between those two, but it was definitely something more than colleagues. She cleared her throat and walked in, "I'm sorry, but Robert came back with another little cryptic message to pass on."

"For me?" asked Mac.

Taylor shook her head, "Stella, you had a friend called Libby, right? Well, there was a reason why she had a welt on her neck." Without waiting for a response, she left, heading wearily back to the elevator. She was exhausted and really wanted to sleep, but she only had a few hours until her next column was due in.

As she stood waiting for the elevator, Stella appeared. "I used to live in an orphanage," she began slowly, "When I was twelve, my best friend was a girl with bright red hair called Libby. One day, she didn't appear for dinner and when I asked the nuns, they told me there wasn't a girl called Libby there. She was my imaginary friend. I never told anyone that."

Taylor just looked at her. What could she really say to that?

"I had completely forgotten about it until you mentioned it, but Libby had a red mark running around her neck. I used to think it was a birthmark – I never asked her about it." She bit her lip, "There was a story that a girl called Elizabeth hung herself about fifty years earlier. I never even realised her clothes were old fashioned." She frowned, "You really did see a ghost, didn't you?"

Taylor nodded.

"I believe you." She told her, and turned around and walked off as the doors pinged open.

"One down, five to go," she muttered as she stepped into the elevator.


	9. Ghost Mustang - The Car And The Horse

**Chapter 8: Ghost Mustang – The Car _And_ The Horse**

In the past three and a half weeks, Taylor had tried to go out on another two dates and failed. Word was now getting around that she was crazy so she had decided to take herself off the market until things calmed down on the ghost front. She had seen a total of five ghosts, although for two of them, all she had to do was nip into the crime lab and tell Mac the gun was hidden in the chimney, or that the weapon of choice was toothbrush.

She had lost another few pounds and had lost a couple of nights sleep helping on cases. On the plus side, her column had gotten better. Now that she was experiencing crime from behind the scenes, and on a personal level, they were going from strength to strength – although she was consistently pushing the limit as to handing them in on time.

At the crime lab, she now had two allies. Stella and, surprisingly, Hawkes. She hadn't had to give over any more cryptic messages either – not that the ghosts had given _her_ any. No, Hawkes had seen her coming in all the time, helping with cases, and then caught her to let her know that when he had been an ME (that piece of news had surprised her), he thought he'd seen a ghost once.

She had also been neglecting her friends. She was spending far too much time launching things at Flack – he was the worst, and she couldn't wait for the day that he appeared in ghost form. Although the guy was that stubborn, he would probably never leave her alone – but he was the only detective that knew she could see ghosts, so she was stuck with him.

So that was why, on that grey Saturday morning, she was sat having a coffee with her best (and severely neglected) friend Maddy. Maddy had spent the first hour telling her that Taylor was looking good for the weight loss and bad for the sleep loss (if only she could tell her that the reason for that was because she was spending her time with ghosts and dead bodies – she still threw up). Followed by an half hour onto why she was walking out on dates leaving said dates thinking she was crazy, and now Maddy was telling her about her latest man, Pete, she'd been seeing for two weeks (but if Taylor had rang her once in a while, she would know this.)

And that was when the ghost appeared. Or rather four of them and a car.

There were two girls, a blonde with straight hair and a white top, and a brunette, also with straight hair and a brown top, and two guys. One with dark curly hair and a long sleeve white shirt, and the other guy had hair a lighter shade sticking up, and a short sleeved white shirt.

Taylor dropped her coffee. Ignoring her friend – over whom most of it had spilt – she got up and walked over. Each of ghosts were only just in their early-twenties, and each had been shot. "Save her."

Taylor frowned. That was a new one – it was normally help me, or help them, (them, she'd taken to assuming meant the CSIs.)

"You're going to have to give me a little more to go on there," she muttered. The group parted to show her the car. It was a yellow mustang with, what Taylor called, go faster stripes, and a Miami licence – 16W 469.

Her friend was forgotten about and she abandoned her as she took off for the Crime Lab. As she went up in the lift, she attached the name tag – after spending so much time there, Mac had realised that she needed on. She was expressly forbidden to go near evidence – and she didn't – and was restricted from certain labs, like DNA and trace. Mac was just getting off the 'phone when she arrived at his door. He didn't look happy. He looked up and nodded to her as she came in.

"Are you alright?" Taylor asked him.

"Yes, thanks. Just got a call from an old friend about an old case. Nothing to worry about."

Taylor frowned – nice and vague, and indication that Mac still didn't completely trust her. Well, she was a journalist! "I had another visit."

Mac just nodded – it was all he ever seemed to do when she told him that.

"Four ghosts. All young, all shot. And strangely, I had a visit from a ghost car – a yellow mustang, with a Miami Licence, 16-"

"Darius."

Taylor blinked. "Come again?"

Mac sighed, "The 'phone call was from an old friend in Miami. A prisoner called Henry Darius was being transferred down to Miami to locate the body of a woman he killed, but the plane crashed. He killed the four kids who stopped to help, and stole their Mustang. We already know who the killer is, Taylor."

Taylor frowned, "I don't think that's it."

"You're telling me that all the evidence it wrong?" he asked her.

"No," she said shaking her head – she knew how defensive he got over evidence, "They didn't ask me to help them like the others. They asked me to 'save her'."

"Her?" Mac repeated.

Taylor nodded and sat back in her chair, breaking out into a huge grin, "I guess we're going to Miami, then?"

"_We're _going nowhere."

"But-" Taylor objected with a pout.

"No, Taylor, and that's the end of it. Now, if you don't mind, I have a plane to catch." Mac escorted her out of his office, locked it and left.

Taylor let out a sad sigh. It was going to take a hell of a lot to convince him of anything – not only was he very scientifically minded, he was also ex-marine (she had eventually discovered) which meant he was trained to stick to his guns, no pun intended. She headed to the break room and sat down. It had unofficially become her second home, and the last time she was there, she had left a sweater.

Except it was floating in the air, courtesy of a helium balloon, with a note attached saying "boo!". Taylor looked at it, then pulled out an earring stud and burst it, before pulling the sweater around her waist. She sat down on the couch, and ended up falling asleep.

She awoke a good couple of hours later, surprised that she hadn't been awakened sooner. She sat up and looked around. People had been in and gone, by the looks of things, but she did have a badge, so maybe they assumed she worked there, or something. Taylor was rubbing the sleep from her eyes when the ghosts made another appearance. Only they weren't the same ones as last time. They looked a little younger, and they were all girls. A large proportion were wearing Greek letters, and had the healthiest tans she'd never seen in New York at this time of year. Like the first four, they too had all been shot.

"Save her," they all told her.

Taylor could feel a sob catching in her throat. If this was the same person killing them, he was a monster. She pulled out her cell phone and flipped it open, noting the several missed calls she'd had from Maddy, and dialled Mac's number. He picked up on the second ring. _"Taylor."_

"Hi, Mac… it's… Taylor," she said. Danny had been right – it was going to get confusing.

"Taylor, if you are about to tell me you can see me-"

"I think he killed again," she told him quietly, cutting him off.

There was a pause, "Darius?"

"Yeah. I want to say he took out a large proportion of a Sorority House."

Mac sighed, "I hope you are wrong. Thank you." He hung up on her.

"More ghosts?"

Taylor swung around to find Danny and Flack coming in through the door. "Yeah," she told them.

"What happened to the sweater ghost?" Flack asked her, looking at the burst balloon on the floor, a smirk on his face.

She should have known that was to do with him. "I had to get a rid of it. I didn't want it to scare you when came in. We all know that you're scared of ghosts."

Flack glared at her, "I am not afraid of ghosts!"

Danny laughed, "Flack, buddy, have you been holding out on me? I didn't know that things that go bump in the night scare you."

Taylor joined in laughing at Flack, who was beginning to turn an interesting pink colour.

"I am NOT afraid of ghosts.! They don't even exist!" he said, giving Danny a push.

"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much," giggled Taylor.

"If I could arrest you," said Flack through gritted teeth, "I would."

"Flack!" exclaimed Lindsay, as she came in to join them, "I didn't know that you and Taylor were at that point of the relationship that you were using handcuffs?"

Taylor, had she have been paying attention, would have had a comment or two to make about that question, like Flack was, but she was slightly distracted. By the big, black horse standing behind Lindsay, staring at her through the doorway.

Slowly, the other two CSIs and detective noticed that she wasn't paying attention and turned to see what she was looking at – there was nothing there, of course.

The horse snorted, then walked off.

Taylor shook her head violently, in disbelief, then flicked her phone back open, calling Mac, ignoring the _Earth to Taylor_ remarks from Danny.

_"Taylor."_

"Hi Mac."

_"Taylor? Look, I know about the sorority house – you were right, but you are still not co-"_

"Horses," she said cutting him off. "The next clue is a horse." In the room, Danny, Flack and Lindsay were looking from her to the doorway, clearly thinking she had finally lost it.

_"A horse? Your ghost told you this, did it?"_

"No, I saw it walk past the break room. But I don't think it's dead. I just think it's a message."

There was a long pause down the phone, _"Do I need to ask why you are still at the lab?"_

"I fell asleep. Look, Mac, I saw a horse. I don't know exactly what it means – I'm not in Miami, but I think the next thing you need to worry about involves a horse." She flicked the phone shut, hanging up. "Yes, I saw a horse," she said dryly, to the room's occupants.


	10. Outside Help

**Chapter 9: Outside Help**

Taylor awoke the following morning to find another six ghosts in her bedroom. She shuddered feeling a chill go through her. This Henry Darius was a monster. He had already killed seven people, and now there were another six standing in front of her. What was worse, was they were getting younger. These six – a mixture of both boys and girls – were all wearing a school uniform she recognised (Hathaway Prep School), and like the other seven, had all been shot.

"Save her," the female ghosts said.

Taylor nodded. She was not about to let this guy kill another person. Before she could get anything more from them, they disappeared. Hoping they knew what they were doing, she threw on yesterday's combats and camisole and dashed out of the door, barely stopping to clip her hair up.

She ran all the way to the precinct – the route becoming far too familiar for her liking – pulling out her phone and trying to get Mac. After she kept getting through to his voicemail, she gave up and carried on running, up into the crime lab door, not stopping to say hi to the ME, Marty, who she nearly sent flying. She ignored his shouts and carried on, into to the building until she came across the first face she recognised that she knew would be able to help her.

"Flack!" she cried, coming to a stop, panting as she tried to get her breath, "He's here. Darius is here in New York."

"I know. Mac is about to get off the plane now."

"No, you don't understand. He's already killed again," she gasped, "Six kids – they were all wearing Hathaway Prep uniforms."

Flack swore, "Darius kidnapped a girl from Miami – Alexa Endecott. Her sister goes to Hathaway." Somehow forgetting she wasn't anything other than a detective, he grabbed her arm and pulled her, "Come on. We need to get to the Endecott residence before it's too late."

It already was too late – they were dead – but maybe they could save the "her." Taylor took off after him.

. . .

"Oh my God!" gasped Taylor. She was standing in the middle of the Endecott's once elegant apartment at the Kensington Arms, staring in horror at the six dead bodies in front of her. They were all lined neatly with their hands behind their backs, and their blood had been smeared over the wall. In front of her, just as horrified by the scene were Flack and Stella, as well as Mac – who had come directly from the airport – and a red haired man she had never seen before.

"How did this happen? There were security guards at every one of the Endecott's Manhattan properties," Flack pointed out.

"Alexa's got to be here somewhere," the new detective said softly. Taylor frowned; perhaps he had come from Miami to help. He certainly dressed like he had come from somewhere other than New York.

Stella sighed, "Are we sure this is Darius?"

Mac frowned. "Take a good look at the position of these kids," he said, indicating to the bodies, "Look familiar?"

Stella nodded. "Yeah. The nurses in mid-town. And he played in their blood." Taylor glanced at the blood smeared on the walls, extremely thankful that she hadn't eaten that morning – she could feel her stomach churning already. "Any one of these kids Alexa Endecott?" Stella continued.

Looking at the bodies, Taylor held her breath. All the ones that had visited her were lay on the floor in front of her. Which meant that Alexa stood a chance. And then she noticed them all staring upwards. She followed their stares, instantly wishing she hadn't – there was blood dripping from the ceiling. Beside her, the others made a move, leaving the room. Taylor took one final glance at the bodies, and then followed.

She caught them up at in one of the bedrooms – a huge vault open in front of them, and a dead girl lying half in, half out.

"She never saw it coming," Mac was saying, as he pulled up his trouser legs and crouched down besides her.

The Miami detective shook his head in agreement. "No. The safe is open and empty."

"It's a biometric lock," said Stella

Mac nodded. "It explains why he brought her to New York. Needed her hand. Her blood vessels."

Stella frowned, "Why would he bring Alexa all the way to New York for money? I thought he got money from the groupie in Florida."

Taylor didn't have a clue what Stella meant by _the groupie_, but she wasn't bothered. The dead girl was Alexa. The one she had been trying to save was lying dead on the floor, eyes open and staring straight at her. She stifled a sob with her hand.

The Miami detective gave her a strange look. "It's not Endecott money. And as we know, money is only half of it," he said to Mac and Stella.

Mac nodded. "The last thing Darius said, down in Miami, he was coming to New York to make things right."

"Think he has?" Stella asked.

"Not even close," Mac replied.

The Miami detective watched Taylor – never having taken his eyes off her to start with, "Detective, are you alright?"

Taylor nodded as Mac spoke up, "Horatio, she's not a detective. This is Taylor Turner from the _New York Daily_."

"She comes and kinda helps us on some cases," explained Stella, as she gave the journalist a pat on the shoulder.

"Excuse me," whispered Taylor as she walked away. She didn't want to look at the bodies any longer.

. . .

Taylor was leaning against a wall when the rest of the team walked in. She barely acknowledged them as they walked past her to survey the carnage before them. Not long after, Stella appeared.

Danny turned around from looking at the bodies when he noticed her, "Got your call. Teams all here," he told her, indicating with his head to Hawkes and Lindsay.

"Right," said Stella, "Thanks."

"We came as soon as we could," said Hawkes, as he eyed up the oversized glass of pills on the coffee table.

Lindsay noticed him looking at them, "What's with all the pills?"

"It's a pharm party," Stella explained.

Taylor frowned – she'd recently done an article on the growing popularity of these things, despite the fact they were pretty much death traps.

"What's a pharm party?" Lindsay asked.

"Pharmaceuticals," said Taylor quietly, her eyes on the floor. The others looked at her in surprise. "Empty your parent's medicine cabinet and pop until you drop. It's the rich kid's idea of fun."

Stella nodded, "At first glance we've got lithium, certaline philoxatine. Most of these drugs don't even get you high."

Taylor sensed movement behind her – it was Mac.

"Stella and I are going to run with this one," he told them, "Danny, check the service entryway – there's an elevator there – secondary exit." He turned to Hawkes, "Sheldon, bag up these bottles, get them over to Lindsay. She'll be in trace."

Taylor glanced up at Lindsay and she did not look impressed.

"Sir, I've worked big crimes scenes before," she protested, "I've got two hands, I'm ready to work."

Taylor had forgotten that Lindsay hadn't been there very long, but in Taylor's opinion, going to the lab wasn't a bad thing – she wanted to get out of there and away from all the blood and bodies as soon as possible.

"This is a high profile case, Lindsay," explained Mac, "I want you in the lab." He turned to the others, "I need your full attention. Remember, anything you can find here could take us to Darius so be careful. Be thorough." He turned his attention to Taylor, "Go back to the lab with Lindsay, Taylor. You don't have to stay for this."

Taylor nodded and walked out, not catching anyone's eye, nor seeing the concern on their faces – for someone who didn't have to be there, she had just witnessed a massacre.

Lindsay made to follow, but Mac stopped her, "Just keep an eye on her, okay?" Lindsay nodded and left, still not very happy about being sent away.

. . .

Taylor was sat in the break room feeling very miserable, nursing a cup of coffee which had since gone cold. Lindsay had been in to see her – it was her who had brought her the coffee – and tried give her some supportive words, but they hadn't even registered in Taylor's brain as she nodded numbly. Her cell phone had gone off a few times – Maddy, and her mother – but she'd ignored them. The only thing she could think about was how she had failed.

And was where the Miami detective found her. He crouched down next to her, looking up into her eyes. "You don't," he started, "You don't strike me as someone who went to that crime scene because your editor sent you."

Taylor slowly shook her head, "I don't really have a choice, anymore."

"We'll get him you know. Henry Darius."

"I don't doubt it," Taylor agreed quietly. "I've seen this team work before. They're good."

Horatio sighed, "I used to work here, in New York, before I transferred to Miami. I have a friend, here, if you want to go talk to her."

Taylor arched her eyebrows. He was recommending she see a shrink.

"Back home, whenever one of my team witness something like that, I make it mandatory for them to see someone. It's a hard thing to deal with, especially for someone who doesn't deal with death. It helps."

Taylor swallowed the urge to laugh – what exactly could she possibly tell a shrink. Flack was right. She would be locked up. Instead, she nodded her head.

"I promise," he continued, "I promise that this will work out, and Darius will get given the death penalty for what he has done."

There was something about his clear blue eyes that she believed him. She smiled, "You make a lot of promises, don't you?"

He smiled back, "Yes. I do."

"Do you always keep them?"

He continued to smile. "Yes." He got to his feet and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It will get easier," he told her.

For a second, Taylor was almost convinced he knew her secret – but that was impossible. _Right_?

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a promise to a little boy to keep." He turned and left, leaving Taylor feeling a little confused.

She screwed up her face in determination – she may not have save Alexa, but damnit, she was going to make sure that Darius didn't send anymore ghosts her way. She turned around, only to find she wasn't alone – Alexa Endecott, complete with bullet wound and blood stain, was standing in front of her.

"Save her."

Taylor's heart nearly stopped. "Her?" she asked urgently, "Is this the same her, or a different her?"

The ghost's clothes changed – she was wearing a Hathaway Prep school uniform.

As Alexa faded away, Taylor smiled. Maybe it wasn't too late. She charged off to find Mac.

Taylor ran through the maze of corridors, peering in through the various doors, until she finally found Mac. He was in trace with Danny and Lindsay looking at something under a microscope. To Taylor, on the monitor, it looked nothing more than various coloured lines – but that wasn't important.

"Any suggestions on a lead?" Danny was asking Mac.

"There was someone else there," Taylor blurted out from the doorway. "Someone in a Hathaway Prep uniform."

Mac looked from Taylor to Danny, "I think I know where to start," he told them.


	11. Bloodwork

**Chapter 10: Bloodwork**

Mac's idea involved Alexa's seventeen year old sister, Sarah. Flack had finally tracked her down at Hathaway Prep, then brought her in so that Mac could have a little chat. Whilst Flack had gone back out to follow up with the case, Mac had sat down with Sarah in an interview room, and Taylor was stood behind the mirror, watching them chat.

Sarah was sat with tears streaming down her face, obviously distraught, "I can't believe this happened to my sister. Can I see her please?"

Mac was sat opposite, his usual blank expression on his face, "Miss Endecott, I think it's best we wait 'til your parents are with you." He frowned, watching her shake, "You know it never quite made sense to me that your classmates were at your house but you weren't."

"No, I told you, I… I had class, so I gave them the key," she whimpered.

Taylor watched as Mac got to his feet and walked around to the other side of the table, "Miss Endecott, will you stand up please?"

"Why?" she asked him.

'Sarah." Taylor was surprised. The way he said her name, was almost like a father would speak to his daughter. Did Mac even have any children? Considering how he was always in the office, probably not. But it looked like he would make a great dad one day. "How'd you rip you skirt?"

"Ok, I was there," Sarah cracked. "It was a pharm party. But I must have been in the pantry or something when my sister came home because I never heard her arrive and I never even knew she was in the house."

"Why didn't you come forward with this information when my detective picked you up at school?"

"I don't know. I just didn't want to get in trouble, ok?" Sarah responded thoroughly. "I'm sorry."

Taylor had heard enough. The girl had done the smart thing of getting out of there when she did. It was only because she had left that she had stayed alive. Mac was right though, she should have said something.

But the interview didn't seem to be proving helpful. Alexa had given her the clue to talk to her sister, but the sister was giving her nothing in helping her find the girl she was supposed to save.

Taylor was walking down the corridor, heading back to the break room to fill up her mug, when Alexa appeared again, still dressed in the school uniform. Before Taylor could say anything to her, the ghost handed her a business card with the name, "Dr Miles Feldstein," on it.

Taylor took it, confused as to how the ghost was able to give her solid object. As she looked back up, the ghost had vanished. Stood down the corridor, slightly facing the side, hands on his hips and sunglasses on, despite the lack of… well… sun, was Horatio. He gave her a smile, then walked after Stella who had crossed in between them on the way to one of the labs. When Taylor looked back down, the card had disappeared.

She headed back the way she came, looking for Mac, but instead found Sheldon, who told her Mac was already on the way out with Flack. Before he could tell her where they was going, Taylor had taken off at a run for the elevator. Seeing it was already on the way down, she went for the stairs, running so fast down them that on more than one occasion, she nearly tripped and fell.

As she reached the bottom, she burst out of the doors to collide with her not-so-favourite detective. Mac stood above them watching them with a less-than-amused expression on his face.

"Try running with your eyes open," complained Flack as he got to his feet and brushed himself off.

"Try reducing the size over your overly-big head, and then I might have the option of not being able to miss it," Taylor snapped back as she also got to her feet, noting Flack's lack of offer to help her up. "Mac, before you go, I think you need to talk to a Dr Feldstein."

Mac nodded, "Flack and I are already on our way."

Taylor frowned. Why was Alexa giving her clues which the CSIs clearly didn't need? "Who _is_ Dr Feldstein?"

"He testified in Darius' initial hearing about Darius' competency," Mac explained.

"Can I come?" Taylor asked.

Mac stood and stared at her, "Taylor, I'm not sure if that is a very good idea. You seem to be getting a little too emotionally involved in this case, and technically, you shouldn't even be working on it."

"Mac, I appreciate your concern, and I see where you're coming from, but I think I need to see this one through to the end."

Mac stared at her for a little longer, then nodded. "Fine. But you know the drill."

Taylor nodded – no talking to witnesses or suspects, and no touching. Anything.

. . .

"Detective Taylor, NYPD, and this is Detective Flack, and Taylor Turner. We're here to see Dr Feldstein, right now," Mac informed the psychiatrist's secretary as they stood in the waiting room of the doctor's office.

The secretary looked at them as though they were something that had been brought in attached to the bottom of someone's shoe, rather than as detectives (and a journalist). "He's with a client. You can't go in." She pointed up to a yellow light above the door, "The yellow light means he's midsession."

Mac walked past her, "Sessions over. We're here about a murder," and he went in.

Taylor made to follow him, but Flack grabbed her arm, "Nah, you're not going in. He's as good as interviewing a suspect."

Taylor nodded. It was good enough of them to let her come along. She wasn't going to jeopardize that. "Do you think we'll catch him before he kills again," she asked him quietly so the secretary couldn't hear.

Flack looked at her, and then nodded. "Don't worry," he reassured her, "We'll catch him. I promise."

Taylor was about to thank him, when Mac came running out. "Flack – outside! Scaffolding!"

The two men drew their guns and tore off down the stairs and outside. As they rounded the building, they were joined by about five uniformed officers, also with their guns drawn. Taylor ran behind them, not wanting to get caught in the middle. As she rounded a corner, Darius was stood with his back to them on the window washer's gurney.

"Darius, show your hands!" Mac yelled, his gun trained on him. "Turn around. Slowly!"

Darius turned around. Only it wasn't Darius – it was the window washer. And he look petrified.

"He put a gun in my mouth. Told me to take my overalls off, put this hat on," he told them, "Please don't shoot me."

The officers dropped their guns. He was harmless. Taylor scowled. She was beginning to understand police officers now – their drive to arrest certain people – it was almost like an obsession. She looked at Mac and Flack. They were staring upwards to the top of the building. As she looked up, a scarf came falling down and landed on her. Mac picked it off her and looked at it.

. . .

Taylor was pacing around in the break room. She had been walking up and down that often, she was almost certain she was beginning to create a groove where she walked. This case was driving her slowly insane. Food and sleep had no longer become an issue for her. All she could focus on was getting Darius.

"Save her."

Taylor turned and looked at the ghost, who was still dressed in the school uniform. "Alexa, all I can think about is getting this guy, but I'm not a criminalist, and I'm not a detective. All I can do to help depends on what you tell me. And what you're telling me, they already know."

"Save her," Alexa pleaded.

Taylor frowned and rubbed at her temples. She was clearly trying to tell her something that she wasn't getting. If she just stopped prancing around in that stupid uniform – she'd seen that clue already – then maybe she'd work it out. "The uniform. You've been trying to tell me all along."

Before Alexa could disappear, Taylor had already left the room and was hunting Mac down again. She found him at a computer with Danny. "Sarah. We need to find Sarah again."

Danny looked from Taylor, to the computer which had beeped at him, "I think she's right, Mac. She's the discrepancy in the timeline. She was the last person to open the safe." He told him, giving Taylor a confused look.

Mac nodded, "Let's have homicide bring her in." He turned to Taylor, "You come with me."

Taylor followed him to yet another lab – the building was like a maze – where Stella was stood. He spoke to Stella quietly, so that Taylor couldn't hear. As he turned to start talking to Taylor, Flack came walking in.

"Checked on the whereabouts of Sarah Endecott," he told them, "She's not at the house, or the school, or anywhere in between."

"That's what we figured," Mac told him. "So we switched over to plan b."

That was news to Taylor.

"Yeah," said Stella, "No girl ever leaves the house without her cell phone. At least not at that age."

"What are you going to do?" Taylor asked.

"GPS the phone number," explained Mac as he pointed to the monitor.

Taylor walked over and glanced at the screen. Stella had typed in Sarah's number and was waiting for the location to triangulate. A map popped up showing the location.

"Tiffany's!" exclaimed Taylor with a grin. "Now you're talking my language."

Flack and Mac exchanged looks. "You can tell from a map?"

"Are you kidding? That place is my first stop every time I go shopping."

The two men looked from each other to Stella, who shrugged at them, "I can tell from the moon. I love those little blue boxes. Let's go."

. . .

Taylor was stood in line at Starbucks waiting for the guy behind the counter to make her coffee. They had found Sarah as she exited the jewellery store carrying lots of bags, and a rucksack with several hundreds of thousands of dollars in it. After a short chat, they had brought her into the station so that they could talk to her officially, with her father present, who had just returned from Australia.

The only thing that they had found out from the interview was that her father was denying that Sarah had stolen the money – even though it was clear that she had – to protect himself from losing another daughter. But when Mac had mentioned that there was only half the money there, Sarah had confessed as to who had the other half – the secretary of Dr Feldstein. Mac and Flack had gone to arrest her, but it had been Stella who had stopped Taylor from going, telling her that if she was going to stay, she was going to have to have a break, because she looked like she needed one.

So that was why Taylor was in Starbucks, and ultimately, that was why she dropped her coffee all over the floor when Alexa appeared in front of her, startling her. Taylor let out a small yelp, "You have got to stop appearing so suddenly!" she told her, forgetting that she was in the middle of a busy shop.

"Save her."

"Save _who_?"

Alexa placed her hand over the gunshot, and then pulled it away so that there was blood on her hand. She held her hand up for Taylor to see the blood.

"Blood? What are you trying to tell me? It's something to do with your blood?"

Alexa nodded.

"Blood?" she frowned, "Family?"

Alexa nodded again, "Save her."

"The key is in the blood." Taylor muttered, as Alexa disappeared. She snapped out of her daze. The shop had gone quiet, and everyone was staring.

Taylor glared at them. She was far too tired, and far to determined to get Darius than to worry that everyone thought she was crazy. "Get back to your coffees," she snapped as she ran back to the lab.

She darted out of the lift and was informed that Stella was interviewing a suspect for a murder in Miami with Horatio. She dashed off to find her, only to meet her as she left the interview room. "Stella! It's in the blood. The answer is in the blood."

Stella frowned, "What do you mean?"

"You need to look at the blood samples," Taylor shrugged desperately.

Stella continued to frown, then nodded, "Come on, you can see how DNA works."

Taylor nodded and followed her. The two women sat in silence as Stella worked up the DNA profiles. Finally, the printer spat out the results and Stella grabbed the paper, "Oh my!" she exclaimed, as Mac walked in, closely followed by Horatio, who smiled at Taylor – she was leaning against a bench chewing on her nails.

"Blood evidence from Alexa's crime scene?" Mac asked.

"Ah, yes gentlemen. Thanks to Taylor here, I found something very interesting," she told them indicating to Taylor. Both men gave her a confused frown. "I compared the blood reference samples from Alexa Endecott to Henry Darius. They're related."

"Related?" repeated Horatio. Stella handed over the printout. "They are brother and sister," said Horatio, reading out the results and handing the sheet to Mac.

"I also ran the Endecott parents. Mrs Endecott is unrelated, but Tom Endecott _is_ Henry Darius' father."

Mac looked up from the notes, "Well that changes everything. You think Endecott knows this?"

"I'll go get Flack," said Stella, "Get him to look for a paternity suit in his past."

"Well, doesn't that mean that the…" Taylor's face lit up in understanding, "Darius' target is Sarah. _That's_ who she wants me to save."

Mac's shook his head, "Darius would have more to gain by going after his father. I'll get him in again."

Horatio looked at Taylor, "I'll try to track down Sarah again."

The three detectives left, leaving Taylor alone in the lab. She sat down. Now it was time for her to step back. Or at least, that was her intention before Alexa showed up again.

"Home."

Taylor frowned – that was new, "She's at home?"

The other 12 ghosts of the people Darius had killed appeared behind Alexa. "Save her!" they all cried, before disappearing.

Taylor gulped – if they were all there, then they Sarah's life was in serious danger.


	12. Catching A Monster

**Chapter 11: Catching A Monster**

Taylor tore around the lab looking for anyone who could possibly help her. The only person she could actually locate was Mac, and he was already in an interview – the officer on the door refused to let her in, regardless of what she said, or threatened.

She knew she didn't have much time, either. It all made sense. Henry Darius was the illegitimate child of Tom Endecott - abandoning his son, and probably never even acknowledging him as he moved on with his life, marrying, raising his own family. She could almost understand where the resentment came from - his sister got a life full of privilege; he got nothing.

But that was all she understood. Every woman he had killed, including those nurses had been a stand-in for Alexa Endecott. He killed them because he was jealous. What Mac had mentioned earlier – about him coming to New York to "make things right" – he wanted the money Alexa was supposed to receive because he thought it was his. But if he found out that Sarah had spent it, which it seemed like he did, then Sarah was in big trouble.

Taylor ran home. When she had moved to New York, her father had given her a gun – a glock. She had never used it before, and it had never been taken out of the box which she kept under her bed. In all honesty, she never thought it would see daylight, other than the day her father had given, or rather insist she take it. But this? This was a matter of life or death. She grabbed it and stuck it in one of the pockets in her combats, after checking it was loaded.

She ran out of the door, all the way to the Kensington Arms. By the time she had gotten there, neither Mac or Stella had answered their phones, so she had left messages on each, hoping they would get them before she would have to use her gun. Ignoring the tape which was still up outside, she ducked under it and up to the Endicott's door.

Sarah answered her frantic knocking almost instantly. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, Sarah, my name's Taylor Turner. I've been helping the police with your sister's murder. I really need to talk to you."

"What about?"

"This is going to sound really crazy, but your sister, Alexa, she sent me here."

Taylor didn't even get a verbal response – the door was just slammed in her face. Taylor jumped in shock, before pounding the door again.

"Go away!" Sarah shouted from behind the door.

Taylor stepped back, "Alexa," she hissed, "If you want me to save your sister, you get your ghostly ass out here and tell me something more than _save me_!"

Alexa appeared, surprising Taylor – she hadn't expected her to be listening.

"Tell her, I forgive her breaking my pearl necklace. I shouldn't have ruined her diamond earrings."

At any other time, Taylor would have, at the very least, raised an eyebrow at the pearls and diamonds. However, now was not the time, and she relayed the message over to her sister. There was the longest pause, before a tearful Sarah opened the door and let her in.

"Sarah, this is going to sound incredibly scary and unbelievable, but you are going to _have_ to trust me. Darius is going to come here and he is going to want that $3 million – he's your brother, and he thinks it's rightfully his."

"But I don't have it anymore," Sarah cried, "Oh my god! He's going to kill me!"

"He's not," Taylor told her, hoping she sounded a lot more confident than she felt, as she pulled the gun out. "I'm going to be right here. We are going to have to get him, right here, right now. Or he's going to escape."

Sarah stared at her and nodded.

And then there was a knock at the door, which would have caused Taylor to fire the gun from the shock, had the safety not been on. She stepped back, out of the way, behind where the door would open. There was another knock at the door. Taylor nodded.

"Who is it?" Sarah asked.

"Open the door, sis." Darius called through the door. "Sarah? Where's Alexa's money?"

"It's gone."

"I want you to know who I am. I'm you're biological brother. Open the door, do as I say, and I won't hurt you. I promise."

This guy was already scaring Taylor, she brought the gun up and took the safety off, nodding again at Sarah, who unlocked the door and took a few steps backwards. Darius opened the door and walked in.

As he entered the room, he noticed the gun pointed at him and turned to face Taylor. "You're that reporter."

"The tern is journalist," said Taylor, again praying that her voice or face wasn't going to betray her fear.

"You're the _journalist _that has been following the detectives around," he repeated, taking a step towards her.

"Stop right there, Darius, or I will blow your brains out."

Darius smiled. "No, you won't. You don't even have the barrel loaded."

Taylor smiled back, and without lowering the gun, or without taking her eyes off him, quickly loaded the barrel. "Thank you. Now, do as I say, or I will shoot you."

Darius began to laugh, and Taylor's hand began to shake, "No you won't," he repeated.

"She might not, but we will," Mac and Horatio appeared from the other side of the door, guns aimed on Darius.

"It's all right, ladies," said Horatio, not taking his eyes off Darius.

"Turn around," said Mac, "And put your hands on your head." As Darius did as he was told, Mac put his gun away and cuffed him. All the while, Taylor and Horatio didn't take their guns off him – although Taylor was shaking violently now. "You're under arrest."

"Darius," said Horatio, "It's _all_ over."

It wasn't until the uniformed officers led Darius away, did Taylor lower her gun, but she didn't put it down, or back in her pocket. Whilst Mac took care of Darius, it was Horatio who steered Taylor over to a chair and sat her down. "It's all over," he repeated.

Taylor nodded, numbly, "You keep your promises," she whispered, staring at the floor.

"I do indeed. And," he said, crouching down besides her, "And I'm going to make you another one. They are going to recognise what you are doing here, and they will eventually accept you as one of their own."

Taylor looked up at him in confusion, "How do you know?"

"Journalists and police officers have always had a rocky relationship, but Stella told me that you do actually help. Detectives and CSIs are trained to a certain way of thinking, but from what I've seen over the last two days, you are going to win them around." He stood up and laid his hand on her shoulder, "Don't give up. I know what you see is difficult, but you are helping."

He walked off leaving Taylor even more confused – was he talking about journalism in general, or the fact that she could see ghosts – it was all too ambiguous. And if he _did_ know she could see ghosts, _how_ did he?

Mac and Horatio said their goodbyes. Once Horatio had left, Mac walked over. "How about you give me that?" he asked her, prying the gun out of her hands and putting the safety on. "Where did you get this from?"

"My father insisted I have it when I moved here. It's never even been out of the box until now, and I don't ever want it to again," she mumbled, still shaking.

"Taylor, whilst what you did was very brave, and you probably saved Sarah's life, what you did was also incredibly stupid. If you were on my team, I would be suspending you right now. As it stands, you're not, and I can't exactly stop you from helping. However, if you do _anything_ like that again, I will arrest you, if I have to."

Taylor just nodded. It was all she could manage, seeing as the tears were now streaming down her cheeks.

Mac sighed, and then did something that Taylor never expected him to do. He pulled her to her feet, and hugged her. Well, that was all it took, and Taylor began sobbing into his chest as he held her tightly.

. . .

Taylor was in the police precinct. She'd been there for a while trying to decide whether she really wanted to do what she was there _to_ do. In the end, she realised that if she didn't, it would only bug her. She spoke to the officer in charge, and he led her to the cell Darius was being held in.

"You just missed the detective," Darius said.

"I didn't come to see him," Taylor retorted. "I came to see you."

"Really? I'm honoured." He smiled, "I'm glad you came, actually. I owe you a thank you."

"For what?" Taylor asked suspiciously.

"For coming after me. For fighting for me. You helped to put me in here."

"You killed thirteen people," Taylor told him, her expression one of disgust. "Of course I was going to help put you here."

"You're like the detective. You both helped me. You both showed me more compassion than my father ever did."

"Compassion?" spat Taylor, "I didn't do it to show you compassion. I didn't even do it because it's my job – it's not, I'm a journalist. I did it because it seems it's my destiny. I was visited by every single one of those people you killed in the past three days – their ghosts. They all visited me to stop _you_ from killing any other innocent person."

"Their ghosts?" Darius repeated, a familiar smile spreading across his face. "Perhaps you are just as crazy as I am."

"Don't you _even_ begin to compare me to you! You are a monster, Darius, and you _deserve_ to rot in the bowels of hell for what you did. Helping one ghost is one thing, but helping thirteen, all killed by the same person is another. You may think I'm crazy, but when you're lying there, waiting for them to stick that needle in you, just remember this – the people who you killed – it was them who made sure that you are lying there." Taylor turned and left. There was nothing human left in that man.

She walked into the Crime Lab, intending on going to see the body of Alexa – she figured that her ghost would appear there – so she could thank her. What she didn't count on, was, on her way down there, all thirteen ghosts appearing. They all said their thanks, finally looking peaceful and happy – that they were ready to move on – until it was just Alexa left.

"Thank you."

Taylor smiled, "I should be telling you that. You helped me save her."

"You did most of it yourself."

"No, I didn't," said Taylor, shaking her head, "In fact, it was all you and the CSIs."

Alexa smiled, "It's not going to be easy, but nothing worth fighting for is." Alexa disappeared.

Frankly, Taylor was getting fed up of these ambiguous messages. She wanted answers. And then it hit her – thirteen deaths, just to save one. She carried on downwards. She knew that Mac and Stella would want to have words with her. And she also knew she would never hear the end of it, if she was to bump into Flack and not only did she not need that, she didn't want to have to deal with his ghost when she got so wound up that she was tempted to stab him.

. . .

And that was how Taylor came to be sat down in the morgue corridor, on the floor, hiding away. She didn't like the morgue – or rather what was in it – but it was quiet and peaceful. Over the past three days, whilst on the same case, she had encountered thirteen ghosts. That many deaths, that much blood… she hated it. The _only_ thing which was making her feel even slightly better was the fact that they had managed to save Sarah.

It had been a ridiculously long day, and she probably should have gone home to bed, but instead, she was there in the corridor, thinking about all the death she'd seen. She could feel the lump welling up in her throat, and she didn't fight the tears as she started to cry. She must have been sobbing quite loudly, because she was found quite quickly as someone draped a jacket over her, helped her to her feet and through the doors to another room with a bed, which he sat her on. He sat down next to her, hugging her and stroking her hair, making the appropriate shushing noises. It wasn't until she finally stopped that he started asking her any questions.

"Are you alright?"

Taylor nodded into the chest she was leaning against, and wiped her tears away.

"Is this about the Darius case?"

She nodded again.

"If it upsets you this much, why are you here? Surely you can tell your editor you don't want the story anymore?"

Taylor sat up and shook her head as she bit her lip. She looked at the playboy coroner, debating to tell him why she was there. She sighed, _why not_? He wouldn't be the first to think she was crazy. "It's not about whether I want to be here or not. I _have_ to be here. And it's nothing to do with the paper," she added quickly before he could say anything. "The victims… their ghosts visit me."

Marty's reaction was not what she expected. He stared at her for the longest time, and then nodded. "I thought so."

Taylor's mouth dropped open, "Come again?" She sat there gaping at him, suddenly understanding exactly how everybody else felt when she told them _she_ could see ghosts.

Marty sighed, "I was an intern at Mercy and a patient died under my care. Only his ghost stuck around to tell me what had actually killed him – it was a nurse who gave the wrong dosage, for the record. Not long after that, I decided I wanted to work in a morgue – makes my job easier when the dead tell me how they die. How do you think I got the record for fastest ME to autopsy a body?" He looked at her, "You can close your mouth now."

Taylor couldn't believe it, "You see ghosts too?"

Marty nodded.

"And they give you enough information to tell you what killed them?"

"Not all of them. It's mainly the ones which don't seem that obvious, but yeah. They don't tell me much else, though. And the numbers have been dropping lately. Looks like they have another person to go to, and frankly, I'd rather see you when I'm dead, than me."

"So why did you wait until now to tell me this?"

"Because I only suspected that you could see them. Think about it, if you couldn't, then you would have thought me completely crazy." He frowned, "Look, I've got some of the bodies from the Darius case to process in there, but you're more than welcome to sleep here tonight, if you want?"

Taylor nodded, still not sure if she was imagining things – in all honesty, seeing the ghosts was an easier thing to accept. "Thank you," she said as she settled down, "Should I ask why there's a bed in here?"

Marty shrugged, "Hawkes used to use it all the time. After 9/11 he never left the place." He got to his feet and pulled a blanket over her, "I'll wake you up in the morning and we can go for some breakfast – talk some more."

Taylor smiled and he left. It was one thing to have allies in Hawkes and Stella, but it was another thing altogether to have someone who actually saw the ghosts themselves. She settled back and fell asleep, feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time.


	13. I've Got A Freaky Secret

**Chapter 12: I've got a freaky secret!**

When she awoke the following morning, Taylor honestly couldn't remember where she was. The bed was strange, and for a fleeting moment, she thought that she had gotten hopelessly drunk and had a one-night stand – the lack of hangover wasn't because she hadn't, as she was one the lucky few who didn't get them. Matters weren't helped when Marty stuck his head around the door.

"Good. You're up."

"Um… where am I?" she asked, rather sheepishly. She was still fully clothed, which was a blessing.

Marty smiled coyly. "Don't remember last night, huh?"

And then it all came flooding back. The last time she'd been that emotionally drained she couldn't remember anything was about three years ago when she'd stayed up for three days straight comforting a friend who had had a miscarriage.

Taylor sighed, "Sorry, the last couple of days really took it out of me."

"And that's why I'm taking you out for breakfast."

"Marty, that's very nice of you, but the only clothes I have to wear are the ones I slept in," Taylor pointed out.

Marty smiled, "Come on. You can spare an hour on your way back home. I'm buying – you won't hear that offer very often – and then, I'll even walk you home."

And that was how, four hours later, Taylor and Marty were sitting in a small diner, just around the corner from the precinct, having moved on from breakfast – no bacon, of course – to drinking cups of coffee. They had talked about everything – where they had grown up (Taylor on the west coast, on the California side of the California/Mexico, and Marty in New Jersey), to sports, religion and politics – the three topics that should be avoided. And whilst they had their differences, it turned out they had a lot in common.

Which brought Taylor to the topic of ghosts. He was the first person, strangely enough, she finally felt comfortable and relaxed around enough to talk to.

"Tell me your first time." To anyone else, _the first time_ could have referred to… well, just about anything, but Marty understood.

"I had just started my ER rotation when a young man came in with a GSW – a gunshot wound."

Taylor nodded. She already knew what a GSW was, but she didn't want to interrupt him.

"He was twenty-four, on his way home from work to his wife and new-born daughter, and got caught up in gang shootout. We did everything we could, but the nurse gave him the wrong dosage of a drug, and he died. At the time, we thought it was because I had cracked a rib, ad punctured his other lung."

By the look on his face, it was clear to Taylor he was never going to forget that.

"I was cleaning up his body so that his wife could see him, when he appeared."

"What did you think? When you saw him, I mean," Taylor asked.

"I wasn't scared. But then again, I didn't think I'd seen a ghost." He paused and waited for the waitress to refill their umpteenth cup of coffee, before continuing. "I was on my 57th hour and had just killed someone – I thought I was hallucinating." He chuckled to himself, "The second time I saw one, I went and scheduled myself a CAT scan."

"If I actually had time in my life, I would have done so myself. Flack spent that much time telling me I needed to see a psychiatrist, I almost convinced myself of that too. He still tells me I need to get my head checked out," she frowned. "He knows, but he doesn't believe. All of Mac's team knows, but other than Stella and Sheldon, they don't believe either. I'm not actually sure how _much_ they believe me, though. They're all too scientifically influenced."

"Hawkes believes in ghosts?" Marty asked in disbelief.

Taylor nodded, "Thinks he saw one in the morgue."

Marty burst out laughing, "That was me! It was three months after 9/11 and they were still recovering bodies. The ghost of one was telling me how he'd died, so I was sneaking around. Hawkes caught me, but he didn't have his glasses on, and he was still half asleep."

Taylor joined him in laughing, "Sheldon did mention something about the ghost wearing white. Oh dear."

"So how about you? What's the story with your first ghost?"

Taylor leant forward and began telling him the story. She was just telling him about how Rebecca had appeared at the funeral when Marty noticed someone behind Taylor and waved.

Taylor turned around to find Flack and Danny making their way over. She turned back to Marty and rolled her eyes. He smiled back at her as the two detectives arrived at their booth.

"What are you doing up at this hour Pinot?" asked Danny, as he slid in next to Taylor.

"Enjoying a cup of coffee with a beautiful lady."

Danny chuckled, "You shown her your Porsche, yet?"

"Weren't you wearing that outfit yesterday? Flack asked Taylor, as Marty laughed.

Taylor nodded, "I haven't been home yet."

"You work fast," Danny said to Marty, earning him a swipe from Taylor.

"I slept in the Morgue."

Danny chuckled. "What, you don't get enough of dead bodies as it is?"

Taylor sighed, "No, I just didn't want to go home."

Danny looked over at Marty who gently shook his head. Danny nodded back, "I heard what you did on the Darius case," he said to Taylor, who was stirring her spoon around a nearly empty cup of coffee. "It was brave of you."

"It was stupid of you," Flack blurted out.

Taylor snapped her head up, "Well forgive me for saving a girl's life. If you people actually stopped thinking I was crazy for long enough to listen to what I'm saying, I would have let the people trained to use a gun, do so."

"Did you come and find me?" Flack retorted.

"I tried! But even if I had, you wouldn't have believed me! You never do – what was going to make you start then?" she accused him.

"No, I wouldn't have believed your crazy talk, but I would have damn well stopped you from going out there. You saw what he did to everyone else he met – he would have done the same thing to you without even thinking twice."

"And he would have done the same thing to Sarah," Taylor pointed out, angrily. "Those ghosts came to me, because they knew that I would help!"

"THERE ARE NO SUCH THINGS AS GHOSTS!" roared Flack.

Danny was up like a shot, "We should get going," he said, before Taylor could leap across the table and strangle him – which it looked like she was about to do. "I'll see you at the court on Saturday, Marty," he threw over his shoulder as he marched a fuming Flack out past a dozen staring customers.

Taylor threw herself back in her chair letting out an exasperated grunt, "I cannot _stand_ him!"

Marty looked at her scowling face and laughed, "Well he certainly feels the opposite."

"Huh?" Taylor stared blankly at him.

"Talking as a man who has met quite a few jealous boyfriends, I can tell that he likes you."

"Yeah, would like me locked up," said Taylor, rolling her eyes.

"Uh huh, and answer me this – how many men that don't like you would notice you were wearing the same clothes?"

Taylor pulled a face. "He's a detective. He's supposed to notice things like that."

"Right, so why was he getting so worried about you getting hurt?"

Taylor snorted, "Probably because he doesn't want to fill in a mountain of paperwork when I wind up getting killed."

Marty laughed, "Alright, then, why did his face practically turn green when you told him you hadn't been home yet?"

"Look, Marty, the guy does not like me, and I sure as hell find that banging my head against a wall is far more satisfying than talking to him."

"They say the best relationships have fire in them."

Taylor laughed at him, "Not that much fire. Trust me, nothing will ever happen between us. I think we would kill each other before that happens."

"Stranger things have happened."

"Like what?" Taylor asked him, disbelievingly.

"Seeing ghosts?" Marty suggested, simply.

Taylor rolled her eyes, "Completely different, Marty."

"I tell you what, I think that by the end of the year, you and Don will be in a relationship."

"That's like, seven months away."

"Scared I'm going to be right?" he asked her, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Puh-lease," rolling her eyes at him. "There's about as much chance as me giving, I dunno, Lindsey, a lap dance."

"Just make sure you have a camera handy, because that is something I would like to see," he told her, a huge grin on his face.

"Now that you have successfully managed to lower the tone, I think I should get going. I have a deadline to meet."

Marty got to his feet, "Firstly, you were the one that mentioned the lap dance, not me – so you lowered the tone, secondly, I said I would walk you, and I will."

Taylor laughed and allowed him to walk her out, and the few blocks to her apartment building. She said goodbye and walked into her apartment. She hit the play button on her voicemail and dropped onto her couch. There were _sixteen_ missed calls – nine from her mother, five from Maddy, and two from her editor. She sighed and grabbed the phone, deciding to return Maddy's call first.

She answered on the first ring, "_So you _are_ alive_."

"Hi Maddy."

_"Don't "hi Maddy" me. You abandoned me in the middle of a café, after practically throwing a cup of coffee over me. The stain still won't come out."_

Taylor sighed, "I gave you that top. It was a freebe from the paper."

_"So not the point!_

"No, you're right," Taylor agreed.

_"So? What happened to you?"_

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

_"Taylor, you are talking to the girl who helped you consume an entire bottle of tequila after you'd been dumped by that jerk you were seeing on your technical writing course. The same friend who didn't laugh when you told her you had a thing for Alec Baldwin, and the same friend who broke into the principal's office, back in high school when you had a hunch he was lifting money from the new pool fund."_

"Firstly, it was you that brought the tequila around, secondly, I only thought he was cute in Beetlejuice – you are the one who is obsessed with Michael Douglas, and thirdly, I was right about that hunch!" She groaned, "All right, but you will think I'm crazy. I've been… seeing ghosts. They ask me to help them."

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"Maddy? You there?"

_"You're right, you need to see a shrink."_

"Yeah, that's what Flack keeps telling me."

She could almost see Maddy's ears perk up, "_Who's Flack?_"

"Don't get excited. He's only the most annoying detective in the NYPD."

_"Is he cute?"_

"Flack?" Taylor frowned. "Well… I… I guess. I hadn't thought about him that way."

_"You _so_ like him," Maddy accused._

"Ugh, now you sound like Marty?"

This time, she heard the phone clunk as it hit the floor, _"Marty?_" Maddy asked as soon as she picked the phone back up.

Taylor smiled, "Now, he is cute. He's an ME. But he seems like a bit of a player, to me."

_"Who cares? He's a doctor, and he's cute._" Taylor rolled her eyes – Maddy had a one track mind. _"Who else have you been working with?"_

"I wouldn't exactly call it _working_ with. But there's Danny and Mac."

_"Are they cute too?"_

Taylor laughed, "Well, _you_ wouldn't kick them out of bed. Having said that, you wouldn't kick many men out of bed."

_"Taylor, you know as well as I do that there is nothing wrong with a healthy sex life. You're just jealous because I'm getting it, and you're not."_

"Judging from this conversation, I'd beg to differ. How's Pete?"

_"You remembered?"_

"Yeah." She settled back into the chair. Suddenly, everything felt like it was going to be alright.


	14. Beer and Basketball

**Chapter 13: Beer and Basketball**

Taylor was tired, and she'd had enough. She'd been at costume party her paper had hosted, for a little over two hours, dressed at a cheerleader – short skirt, midriff-revealing top, hair in a mass of curls – courtesy of her friend in the sports section, who she was currently stood with. But now, all she wanted to do was go home and curl up in her bed.

For the past few nights, Marty had kept her up (he'd had some time off work) as they watched movies together. He'd moved in about a fortnight ago, about three weeks after the Darius case, when his landlord had doubled his rent. What with the payments for his Porsche, he couldn't afford to live there, and Taylor had suggested that he take her spare room. Living with him, writing her article, and performing necessary household tasks like laundry, grocery shopping and cleaning, had left her with little enough time as it was.

The ghosts had been good at first – they'd given her a full week to 'recover' from Darius, but after that, they'd been coming one after another. It wasn't too bad. She'd worked the majority of the cases with Stella… and Flack. Stella had taken her under her wing and was even showing her the basics of procedures – not that she was ever allowed to perform one, but she was beginning to get the gist of how things worked. Except, even when she did lie down to sleep, she couldn't sleep because every time she closed her eyes she saw the bodies.

And that was why she wanted to go to bed. She had had to put enough make-up on to cover the bags under her eyes, she was sure she looked like a clown. Nobody was going to notice if she left now, anyway. She sneaked away, and left, heading to her small office (which she rarely used these days) and grabbed her clothes, before heading home.

It was the middle of May, now, and the temperature had warmed enough for her to feel warm enough walking home in the… modified… blue and white NYU cheerleading uniform she was wearing. That was until some drunken idiots – she assumed students – leant out of a passing car and threw a half-empty beef can at her, shouting "NYU sucks!"

The can hit Taylor on the shoulder, causing the rest of the can to explode over her. She stood there in horror at what had just happened, the warm beer dripping off her. She bit back the tears – her shoulder was stinging like a bitch, and the whole situation was just embarrassing. Thankfully, she was only a block from her apartment, and she ran the rest of the way back, thankful that no-one was going to be in – Marty had mentioned something about playing basketball.

Or at least, that was what she expected. The reality of the matter was very different. Flack, Danny, Sheldon, and _no_ Marty were sat about her living room, all looking very sweaty, and none of them wearing anything other than shorts, vegged out in front of the television, which had a basketball game on.

"About time, Marty, the beer's-" called Flack, stopping when he saw a wet Taylor stood in the doorway. "Well, if it isn't Nancy Drew! What the hell are you doing here, Taylor? This was supposed to be a guy's only evening."

Taylor dropped her back on the kitchen counter. "I live here. The question is what the hell are _you_ doing here?"

"Don't get all PMS on us, Marty invited us."

"How long have you been living with Marty?" Sheldon asked her.

"Three weeks. I had a spare room, and he needed somewhere to stay. Where is he?" Taylor asked, trying to peer around them to see if he was hiding somewhere.

"Went to the store to get some beer," Danny told her. "If us being here is a problem, we can go."

Taylor shook her head, "No, it's fine. I just wasn't expecting it," she told them, reaching for a towel.

"I didn't know you followed college sports," said Danny, referring to the clothes she was wearing.

"I don't. I don't have enough time in my life to sleep, let alone know who's playing who. We had a sports themed costume party that the paper was throwing for our sports writer, Al Briscoe."

"You know Al? That guy is amazing at writing about the football games!" exclaimed Sheldon.

"So what were you? The entertainment?" Flack snorted, watching Taylor mop herself off.

Taylor glared at him, "Yeah, that's right. I L-O-V-E - beer being launched-at-me!" she declared, waving her arms and the towel around like she was cheering.

Danny was up and over in a shot. "Taylor, what are you talking about? And what the hell is that mark on your arm?"

"Some drunken idiots decided they hated NYU and threw a beer can at me from their car, which considering they were driving, they shouldn't be drinking," Taylor explained.

"Did you get an ID on the car?" asked Sheldon, who had also come over and was wrapping some ice in a towel.

"No," Taylor winced as the ice was pressed against her shoulder, "I was a bit too shocked." She leant back against the counter. "That's what I don't get about sports. Why do you feel it necessary to take the support that far. I've done the research. Sport related crime is ridiculously high."

"Where did this happen?" Flack asked – he was fuming.

"Just around the corner. Look, you're missing your game. Don't worry about it. It's happened. I'm just going to go get a bath," she sighed, dumping both towels in the sink.

"Taylor, we should try to find these guys!" insisted Flack.

"Flack, they're long gone. We'll probably never even see them again," she told him, a little taken aback by his reaction.

"That's not the point," Flack retorted.

"It never is with you." She picked the towels up and began cheering again – "D-R-O-P I-T! What does that spell? Drop it! Or do you need me to spell it out another way?"

Flack glared at her, then at Sheldon and Danny who had started sniggering at them.

Taylor threw the towels at them and headed for her bathroom.

"Hey, Taylor," Danny called after her.

Taylor stopped and turned around.

"You need someone to scrub your back for you?"

Taylor rolled her eyes, "Why, you know someone?"

"Might do."

She laughed, "Thank you, but no." She glanced at the television, "You should get back to the game. You just missed the Lakers pull ahead by eight points."

"What?!" exclaimed Sheldon, hurrying back to the couch, "The Knicks were ahead by seventeen!"

Taylor smiled and headed into her room, to the bathroom. She stripped off and jumped into the shower – she could hear the shouting above the water and figured, if you can't beat them, join them.

By the time she had washed, braided her hair and pulled on a pair of shorts and a camisole and gone back out there, Mary had returned, and the coffee table was covered in an assortment of beer and pizza boxes. She wandered over.

"You gonna join us?" asked Marty, patting the couch next to him, "I have wine!"

Taylor smiled – she couldn't stand beer, and he had, indeed, poured her a glass of red wine – so she headed over and sat down, leaning against him, and stretching her legs out over Danny, who was sat at the other end of the couch.

"Glad to see the Lakers are still maintaining their lead," she said, reaching for her wine.

Well, Danny nearly dropped his pizza, Sheldon's mouth dropped open, and Flack choked on his beer.

"What?" asked Taylor, innocently, "I was born in California – I'm allowed to support them."

After a few cries of "blasphemy" and other similar taunts, the group settled back to finish the game. The Lakers won – although, according to all the men in the room, "That foul was never a foul!" Or, as Taylor responded, "they won 130-97, so the issue of the foul was hardly going to change the outcome of the game."

The beers (and wine) had relaxed them all, and as Taylor flicked the music channel on, the chat changed from sport.

"Whose are all the DVDs?" Danny asked, pointing to the enormous shelving units either side of the TV – there must have been several hundred movies there, and that was before the box sets were included.

"Mine," said Taylor.

"You have just about every Harrison Ford film there is."

"Not all of them – just his good ones. I liked him in Star Wars, then Indiana Jones."

"You like Star Wars?"

"Well, mainly the first three – episodes IV to VI, I mean. The new ones just aren't the same – too much of the magic was lost when they got carried away with the CGIs."

Danny gaped at her, "You actually gave the geek answer."

"Come again?" Taylor asked blankly.

"Well, everybody, every woman I ever spoke to about it, only liked the new ones because Hayden Christian was hot."

"Nah," Taylor shook her head. "I preferred Han Solo."

"You have all the Rocky's, too!" noted Sheldon.

"Yup, I'm a Rocky fan too."

"She likes guy movies," explained Marty.

"Just because they have guns, fighting, or light sabres, doesn't mean they're guy movies," Taylor said, pulling a face.

"Well, they're stereotypically guy movies," Marty argued.

"So what does that mean for you, who couldn't stop bawling during _A Walk To Remember_?" Taylor retorted.

Marty clamped his hand over her mouth, "That's not true. I had something in my eye."

Taylor removed his hand and laughed, "What? For the last half hour of the movie?"

The guys laughed.

"We should organise a movie night, at some point," Taylor said thoughtfully.

"How about a _Ghostbusters_ marathon," suggested Flack with a smirk.

"I don't know," said Taylor, "I'd be worried you'd hold my hand the entire way through because you got scared."

Flack scowled, "I am not afraid of ghosts."

"So you keep saying," laughed Taylor.

"That's a good idea, you know," said Danny.

"What? Flack holding Taylor's hand?" laughed Marty.

"No, a movie night," said Danny, chuckling at the comment.

"How about tomorrow night?" suggested Sheldon. "We're all off, aren't we?"

The room nodded.

"We can watch scary movies, get some takeout, and relax," Sheldon continued.

"Fine," said Taylor, "But I'm inviting Stella and Lindsay, because I'm not going to be able to hold your hands by myself."

"Hey!" objected Danny, "It's only Flack whose hand will need holding. OW!" Flack had just thrown his empty can at Danny.

"I am not afraid of ghosts, or scary movies!"

"You're right, Taylor," muttered Danny, "He does protest to that fact far too much."

Flack rolled his eyes and got to his feet.

"Hey, get me another can, whilst you're at the fridge," Sheldon called after him as he started to make his way over to the kitchen.

He stopped part way there and looked at stared at Taylor's diploma which was hanging on the wall. "Taylor Nicole Turner?" he read aloud.

Taylor propped herself up and glanced over the couch, "Yes," she replied, suspiciously.

"Taylor _Nicole_ Turner."

"Yes," she repeated.

"_TNT_?"

Taylor sighed, "Yes, those are my initials."

"Your initials are TNT? Oh, insert joke here."

"Yeah, no doubt you will," Taylor grumbled, laying back on Marty.

Minutes later, Flack was back, carrying four cans of beer and the bottle of wine.

"Thank you," said Taylor, as he refilled her glass.

"Not a problem. Wouldn't want you to explode on us because I neglected to get you a drink when I got everyone else one."

Taylor rolled her eyes, "I heard them all before in school, Flack. You're not going to come up with anything new," she told him, over the laughter of the others.

"Careful, Flack," warned Danny, "This woman has an explosive temper."

"Danny!" Taylor exclaimed in disbelief.

"Oh dear, I think you lit the fuse," said Sheldon.

"Better take cover," said Marty, "This little bomb can create a lot of damage."

Taylor looked up at Marty and pouted, "Et tu Brute?"

The guys started laughing, and Taylor joined in, feeling a lot more relaxed that had she had gone to bed.


	15. A Day Off Dying

**Chapter 14: A Day Off Dying**

"Alrighty ghostys," said Taylor to her empty bedroom when she finally awoke late the following day, "Please let this movie night happen. I just need a night off, then you can throw whatever you want at me." Dangerous words to say, admittedly, but she was feeling good – she'd just slept for fourteen hours and felt great. Well, her shoulder was sore, and it had a huge bruise on it, but other than that, she felt good.

She jumped in the shower, got dressed, opting for her usual combat/camisole attire, and straightened her hair. By the time she had put some mascara on, she only had a couple of hours until the others turned up. As Marty was at work – he'd swapped his shift with Sid so that he could have the evening off – she set to cleaning the apartment. By the time she had nearly finished – just the dishes to dry – there was a knock at the door. She answered it to find Lindsay waiting expectantly.

"I do have the right place," she said.

"Yeah, I'm glad you could come."

Lindsay followed Taylor into the kitchen, "So who's coming?"

"Marty – when he finishes work – he might be a little late, Sheldon, Danny, and Flack."

"No Mac or Stella?"

"Stella has a date with Frankie, and Mac said something along the lines of, "no, thank you, you children have fun"."

"Frankie, eh?" Lindsay questioned.

"Yeah, you want a glass of wine?" Taylor asked, pulling out a bottle of red. She poured them both one. "He's a sculptor, or something. I've met him briefly, and he doesn't seem that bad. Keeps sending her roses."

"Ah, I want someone to send me that," Lindsay sighed, wistfully.

Taylor smiled, "No one in the picture then?"

Lindsay shook her head, "Nope. Not for now, anyway. I'm still trying to get settled."

"Can I ask a question," she asked as the two of them walked to the couch.

Lindsay shrugged, "Sure."

"You've been here, working with, well, dead people, right?"

"Well, I've only been here a couple of months, but yeah."

"Does it get easier?" Taylor asked her.

Lindsay sighed, "You get numb to it, like you're watching a film."

"How do you deal with it?" Taylor asked with a frown.

Lindsay thought about it. "Go home and not think about it. Leave the work at work."

Taylor was about to tell her that was a hard thing to do, considering it wasn't work, and the ghosts had no problem going home to her, when the door went again. Before Taylor could answer it, it opened, and Danny, Sheldon and Flack walked in.

"Evening," said Sheldon, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Who are we waiting for?" Danny asked, pulling a beer from the pack he was holding and putting the rest in the fridge.

"Just Marty, but he's going to be late. He said to get started without him," she shrugged, leading them into the living room. Danny bounded ahead and leapt onto the larger of the two couches, almost knocking the drink out of Lindsay's hand.

"Watch it, Messer!" she growled.

"Calm down, Montana," he told her, lightly, knocking his shoulder against hers.

Taylor suppressed a giggle, "Are those two always like that?" she asked Sheldon who was smirking next to her.

He nodded, "Pretty much." He walked off and sat on the smaller of the couches, followed closely by Flack.

"Any suggestions?" Taylor asked as she walked over.

"I think we should go for _Rocky_," said Sheldon.

"No," said Lindsay, "_The Lord of the Rings_ trilogy."

"We only have _one_ night, Montana," Danny complained.

"It's _Lindsay_, Messer. And we can finish it off another night."

"What about the _Die Hard_ trilogy?" Flack suggested.

"Ooooh, Bruce Willis!" exclaimed Lindsay.

"Bruce Willis? Are you kidding? He's old enough to be your dad," scoffed Danny.

"I'm with Lindsay on this one," agreed Taylor, as she found the DVD on the shelf, and put it in the player, "There's something about him. You can't tell me that you guys don't find at least one older woman attractive."

"Kim Basinger," said Sheldon, with a smile on his face, not missing a beat.

"Really? I'd have to say Heather Locklear," said Danny.

"Demi Moore," chimed in Flack.

Taylor and Lindsay shared a look as Taylor came and sat down next to her.

"You started something," muttered Lindsay. "Press play before they get onto their Lindsay Lohan/Hillary Duff debate."

"Lindsay Lohan/Hillary Duff?" Taylor repeated, mildly amused.

"Lindsay," said Flack.

"No, Hillary," said Sheldon, giving the detective a little push.

Taylor rolled her eyes and pressed play. The guys soon quietened down as the movies started.

About halfway through, Marty turned up, carrying a huge crate of Chinese takeaway. "Didn't know what everyone wanted, so I ordered their six person banquet," he told them settling it on the coffee table. "You owe me $8 each," he added, before sitting himself down on Taylor's lap.

"Ew!" exclaimed Taylor, pushing him off so he fell on the floor, "You stink!"

Everyone was soon wrinkling their noses as they caught the smell radiating off him. "You had a decomp, then," said Danny.

"Go get a shower," ordered Taylor, "Before you make the room stink too."

"I've already had a shower," Marty informed her.

"What did you wash yourself with? Rancid meat?" Taylor scoffed.

"Taylor, the smell of decomp lingers for days. It won't simply wash out," Lindsay told her.

Taylor blanched, "I really did not want to hear that."

"You got any lemons?" Lindsay asked.

Taylor pulled a face. "Lemons in your wine?"

"No," said Sheldon, "Lemons help get rid of the smell."

"Seriously? Yeah, I got a few in the fridge. Go knock yourself out, Mart," Taylor said, wafting Marty away.

He got up and wrapped his arms around her, "Come on, you love me no matter what I smell like."

Taylor pushed him back and pulled a face, "Not when you smell like that, I don't."

By the end of the film, Marty had returned and was sprawled out on the floor in front of Flack and Sheldon, Taylor had curled up on Lindsay, who had curled up on Danny, and everybody was comfortably full.

"It amazes me," said Taylor, as Marty put in _Die Harder_, "How you guys can relax to something like _Die Hard_. Surely it's like watching work."

"This is coming from the girl who watches _Sex and the City_, even though she's a journalist herself, in New York, none-the-less," commented Marty.

Taylor threw her cushion at him, "She writes about sex, not crime. It's not the same."

Marty took the cushion and stuck it under his head, "Thanks," he told her, before pressing play.

Towards the end of the film, Taylor could feel her eyes beginning to droop – Lindsay was actually quite comfortable – so she got up and headed for the kitchen. She yawned and stretched, and grabbed a glass of water, before returning to the living room. Marty had stolen her place.

"My, what a Kodak moment," she said, looking at him, Lindsay and Danny all curled up together. She dropped onto the floor where Marty had been sitting.

"You know, you can come sit up here, if you want?" Sheldon offered.

"After," she told him, leaning back against his legs. "This movie will be over in a minute and I don't want to get comfy only to have to move again."

By the end of the third movie, Flack, Sheldon and Taylor were sprawled out, entwined in each other. Marty, Lindsay and Danny didn't look much different. And no one was left awake.


	16. Lead The Way

**Chapter 15: Lead The Way**

A week later and the relaxing evening seemed liked a distant memory for Taylor. She had spent three of the days in her office, giving it a good clean out. Filing had taken up several hours each day, then she had re-arranged the room to give her more space for shelving units to be erected.

It was towards the end of the week, when she was heading into the office bright and early so that she might finish off her task, that the ghost appeared. She was wearing a set of flannel pyjamas which hugged her chubby frame just a little too tightly. The ghost of a girl looked to be of college age, and she looked determined. "Stop them."

Taylor blinked and quickly ducked into an alley, out of the way of the heavy rush hour foot traffic. "I don't suppose if I ask who _they_ are, you'd tell me?" she asked her, hopefully.

"Stop them," the ghost repeated. This time, however, she beckoned Taylor to follow her with her finger.

Taylor's mouth started to fall open in surprise, but she quickly shook her head. "I like your thinking, but wherever you're going to lead me, it would be a lot quicker if I got someone from the Crime Lab to come with me. Agreed?"

The ghost considered it, and nodded.

"Thank you," Taylor sighed as the ghost disappeared. Thankful she lived in running shoes, Taylor returned to the street, changing her direction and heading towards the Crime Lab. She was about to cross the street, opposite the lab, when she noticed a familiar person at a hotdog stand on the corner. Wrinkling her nose up, she headed over. "A hotdog for breakfast?" she asked Flack.

Flack looked for the owner of the voice and allowed a look of disapproval to cross his face. "I'm hungry," he responded. "And please tell me it's coincidence that you would happen to be here at this time in the morning and not your raving insanity?"

Taylor gritted her teeth. "If by that you mean, did a ghost bring me here, then the answer is yes."

"We haven't had anything called in," Flack announced, looking smug.

"That's probably because she want me to take you to her?" Taylor suggested.

Flack opened his mouth to comment, but instead shook his head and took a bite out of his hotdog.

Taylor glared up at him. "Fine," she shrugged. "You eat that, I'll go see Mac. Go get comfortable and wait for his call," she added, turning towards the Crime Lab.

Flack let out an exasperated grunt and threw his hotdog into the trash. "Fine," he returned. "But if this turns out to be a waste of time, you're buying me breakfast."

"Deal," Taylor agreed, following him to his car.

"Where are we going?" he asked her, starting the engine.

Taylor glanced around, quickly spotting the ghost sitting in the back seat. She was pointing down the street. "Just follow my directions," Taylor informed him. It wasn't until they were nearly at Columbia University that Taylor realised where they were heading. "Along here will be fine," she told the detective. Flack pulled up and the two got out. Taylor leant back and looked over the campus. It was pretty. As she glanced around, she saw the ghost again. She was pointing to a building across the street from where Taylor was standing, "This way," she told Flack as she crossed the road.

"Do you even know where you're going?" he asked, hurrying after her.

"Yeah," she replied, glancing at the name on the building, "Furnald Hall."

"Why do I get the feeling that you've just read that?" Flack muttered as he followed her in.

Taylor stopped and looked around. The ghost was stood to her left, pointing to the door to the stairs. "We're going up," she told him, pushing the heavy door open.

Flack pulled a face at her back, but followed her up without saying anything.

It was five flights of floors before Taylor saw the ghost again, where she was stood pointing to the door to the sixth floor. Taylor pulled the door open, "This way," she called to Flack cheerfully – he was muttering to himself about half a flight behind.

As they stepped out onto the sixth floor, the elevator opposite pinged open and a bunch of students walked out. "Is there a reason we couldn't have gotten that?" Flack grumbled in her ear.

"Because the ghost didn't want us to," said Taylor, setting off in the direction the ghost was pointing.

"Oh, _the ghost_ didn't want us to," Flack muttered, setting off after her, "Of course."

Taylor stopped outside the door the ghost had pointed to, "Here," she told Flack.

Flack gave her a look, then knocked on the door. It was opened by a petite blonde, brushing her teeth, wearing nothing but a pair of French knickers, and a tiny baby tee.

The blonde looked up at Flack and grinned, "Hello there!"

Flack flashed her a toothy smile. "Detective Flack, NYPD," he told her, flashing her his badge.

The blonde stuck her arms out, "I don't care what the charges are, _you_ can handcuff me any time you want."

Taylor rolled her eyes – her first semester, freshman year, she'd had a roommate like this, until she'd swapped so she lived with Maddy. "How about murder?"

The toothbrush dropped from the blonde's mouth, "What?"

Flack glared at Taylor, "Sorry about her – she hasn't taken her meds today."

"Who's dead?" the blonde asked fearfully.

Flack licked his lips. "Is it just you here?"

The blonde stepped back and opened the door to reveal a body curled up under the covers on the other side of the room, "That's Chloe."

"Can we talk to her?" asked Taylor.

The blonde shrugged and walked over to the mound in the bed, "Hey, Chloe, there are some cops here." When Chloe didn't move, the blonde gave the mound a somewhat vicious shove, "Come on, tubs." She pulled back the covers, and screamed.

. . .

"I thought Mac sent Lindsay, too?" Flack asked a harassed looking Danny as he ducked under the tape.

"Montana slipped and sprained her wrist. She's at the hospital now, having it x-rayed."

"Is she alright?" Flack asked.

"_They build us tough in Montana_," said Danny, "Her words." He glanced over at the body. "Who called it in?"

Flack rolled his eyes and pointed behind Danny to the corner of the room where Taylor was standing, staring at the victim's photos. "Nancy Drew here."

"Nancy Drew?" Danny repeated in amusement.

"Yeah, you know, the stories about the reporter who thinks she's a detective?"

Danny put his kit down, "Yeah, but you clearly know a lot about the stories yourself. Should I be worried?"

Flack smirked, "Kid sister, smart ass."

Taylor looked over from the photos and smiled sadly at Danny, "Morning," she greeted, walking over. "Chloe Barnes, Journalism major."

"That's my job," growled Flack.

Danny held back a smile, "Anything else?"

"Bethany, the roommate," said Flack quickly, "Was out last night, came in, thought Chloe was already in bed when she got back – thought the girl was asleep."

Danny slowly shook her head, "Can you imagine, your roommate being dead in the bed next to you and you not knowing?"

Taylor sighed, "Yeah, actually."

"Don't tell me this happened to you," said Flack, sceptically.

"No, it didn't. But my first semester at college, I lived with a girl like Bethany. We, well, we were opposites. She was this blonde, leggy, skinny cheerleader – fit the bill of the stereotype perfectly. Me, I was the fat kid, who spent twenty hours of the day either studying or working. We didn't really get on."

"You were an unpopular fat kid?" smirked Flack.

Taylor glared up at him, her hands making their way to her hips. "Let me guess, you were the popular jock?"

"Basketball player," said Flack, "High school varsity."

Taylor looked up at him, "You were a tall, skinny, lanky kid, weren't you?" She turned to Danny, "What about you?"

"I was a jerk," Danny told her darkly, before moving off to photograph the bed.

Taylor looked questioningly at Flack. He just shook his head at her and walked over to Danny. "Right," muttered Taylor, as she stood back and watched the CSI process the scene.

It wasn't until they were outside and on the way back to their cars that Chloe reappeared. Taylor stopped – Chloe was standing in front of her, blocking her path. The two men carried on, but stopped when they realised that Taylor wasn't with them. They turned just in time to see Taylor taking a newspaper out of the air. The two men looked at each other.

"Did you just see that?" asked Danny in disbelief.

"Yeah," said Flack, rubbing his eyes, "It must have been the wind."

"Don, there is no wind. There isn't even a breeze," Danny slowly pointed out, looking at the nearby tree tops which were barely moving.

Flack shook his head, and shifted the evidence which was in his other hand. "I think Mac has been working us too hard. Either that, or we're spending too much time with this girl."

Taylor glanced down at the paper Chloe had given her. The front cover had an article about the new Chancellor at the university, which was written by Chloe Bryant – the victim. Taylor sighed, the ghost seemed more and more like her.

. . .

Taylor headed down to the morgue. Danny had told her that he needed a coffee, so she decided she would meet him in autopsy and see Marty first. On her way there, coming out of the double doors, with her wrist in a bandage, was Lindsay.

"Hi Taylor," said Lindsay, a smile breaking her troubled expression.

"You alright?" Taylor asked her.

Lindsay shrugged. "Fell over, and sprained my wrist. Done worse on my horses. I had to finish the report on a case I worked on – it involved a doll hospital – very creepy. Just wanted to double check something with Sid before I wrote it up."

"Oh," Taylor muttered. "I forgot Marty was back on the night shift."

Lindsay smiled. "So that's why you're down here."

"Actually, no," Taylor shook her head. "Chloe Bryant."

Lindsay's demeanour altered. "Am I right in assuming that this was a ghost?"

Taylor sighed, she wasn't even going to argue this case. She already knew it was a lost cause. "Something like that."

Clearly, Lindsay didn't want to address the ghost issue either. "How are you holding out?"

Taylor groaned. "Don't ask."

"That good?" Lindsay questioned.

Taylor nodded, pulling a face. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to need a stiff drink later, wanna join me, and I'll tell you all about it?"

"Hey, Montana!"

Taylor and Lindsay turned around to find Danny heading towards them. "It's _Lindsay_, Messer."

"Uh, huh," he agreed unperturbed, "So, drinks later, is it? Count me in."

"It's a girly thing," Lindsay told him through gritted teeth.

"I'll put up with it," Danny shrugged.

Taylor glared at him, "I thought you wanted coffee."

"I did."

"Then why, pray tell, are you down here in the morgue?"

"Calm down, Nancy Drew. I finished my coffee."

"Nancy Drew?" scoffed Lindsay, "My, you are getting damn original with your nicknames."

"Run along, Montana. You've got a crime report to write up. We'll see you later, in the bar," he said, trying to waft Lindsay away.

Taylor grabbed at Danny's jacket sleeve and pulled him through the morgue doors, clipping him around the head whilst she did so.

"What the hell is that for, Drew?" he yelped, yanking his arm free and straightening his jacket.

"Because one day, I am going to end up being visited by your ghost telling me that Lindsay stabbed you. And I don't want to see Lindsay in prison. Orange really isn't her colour."

Danny stared at her in disbelief. "So you don't want to see Lindsay sent down, but me being dead isn't a problem?"

"Depends on if you're going to stop winding her up?" Taylor asked him, pointedly.

"Hell no!" Danny exclaimed with a grin. "Having far too much fun. Besides, she likes it. You can see it in her eyes."

"Personally, I'd describe that look as, _I'm about five seconds away from stabbing you with a pen_, but if you think that she likes it, go ahead," Taylor informed him.

"What are you doing down here, anyway?" Danny asked her. "I wouldn't have thought this was your favourite place to be."

"I came to see Marty," she explained.

Danny smirked. "Really?"

"Oh, shut up, we're just friends," Taylor told him, swiping at his arm.

"Friends that live together," Danny scoffed.

"It's perfectly normal for two adults to live together and just be friends," Taylor told him, rolling her eyes. "Haven't you ever seen _Will and Grace_?"

"He was gay. So unless you're telling me Marty is gay… or is it you that is?" he asked, grinning.

Taylor rolled her eyes, "Alright, so _Will and Grace _is a bad analogy, but the point is, we are just friends."

"Are you two here to establish a COD on your victim, or are you here to bicker about the finer points of out assistant coroner?" Sid was stood in front of them – neither Danny nor Taylor had a clue how long he had been there.

"What you got or us, Doc?" asked Danny, as he followed Sid over to the table.

"Actually, very little. Other than being a little over-weight, there was nothing wrong with the girl. No outward signs of trauma. When I opened her up," he pulled over a dish with a heart in it (Taylor struggled to keep herself from throwing up), "I discovered that her heart had given out on her."

"But she's so young," said Taylor, staring down at the victim's expressionless face.

"I agree, Miss Turner," said Sid, giving her a smile as he unhooked his glasses, "Which is why I sent some of her blood off to tox. It came back positive for Methylenedioxymethamphetamin e."

"Thanks, Sid," said Danny, as he turned and started to leave.

Taylor turned to do the same.

"Oh, Miss Turner," said Sid. Taylor stopped and turned back. "You picked the wrong ME, you know," he told her, winking.

Taylor smiled at him, and left to catch up with Danny. "Methylenedioxymethamphetamin e - that's ecstasy, right?"

"Yeah," Danny agreed.

Taylor shook her head, "She didn't take that drug willingly."

"You have proof of that, or did a ghost tell you?" asked Danny.

"No, I just know," Taylor shrugged. "I can't explain it, I just know it."

"Right," said Danny sceptically. "Well, I'm going to need something a little more solid and likely to stand up in court – evidence."


	17. It Could Happen To Anyone

**Chapter 16: It Could Happen To Anyone**

By early evening, Taylor had successfully driven Danny mad by loitering around the lab as he processed the evidence that he had collected from Chloe's room. There was nothing, _nothing_ to suggest anything other than Chloe had taken a pill and died of respiratory arrest due to it, and in the five hours Taylor had been in the lab, she hadn't appeared to suggest anything otherwise.

"Go home," said Danny, impatiently – she'd been watching him run an analysis on a piece of fibre for the past twenty minutes.

"I'm fine," Taylor told him.

"So am I," Danny agreed. "But if we don't finish now, we won't be able to go out for those drinks."

Taylor's eyes narrowed. "I thought we told you it was a girly night."

"And I told you I was fine with that," Danny retorted, unmoved by Taylor's grumpiness.

"Fine. 9 o'clock, Squares," Taylor growled impatiently at him.

Danny smirked at her. "See, that wasn't so hard."

Taylor pulled off her gloves and walked out of the room, "See you later," she told him. Taylor headed to her locker and grabbed her purse, and walked out through the parking lot, when she spotted Marty's car. "I forgot how much I love this car!" she exclaimed, running her hand over the hood of a red Porsche.

"Checking me out?"

Taylor snatched her hand away and whirled around. It was Marty. She pulled a face. "I was checking out the car."

"Check out the car, check out the driver," Marty shrugged with a grin.

"Great logic you've got going there," she muttered, "But," she told him with a bright smile, "I think I prefer the car."

"Now, we both know that isn't true," he said in mock horror.

"Don't be too sure," Taylor told him, as she pulled out her cell phone which had started ringing. "Hello?"

"_Hello, is this Taylor Turner?"_

"Yes, who's this?" Taylor asked with a frown.

_"This is Dr. Ryan over at Mercy General. We were given your details from a friend of yours, Madeleine Alameda-"_

"Oh God," gasped Taylor, feeling faint. "Is she alright?"

_"She's going to be admitted overnight-"_

"I'll be right there." Taylor hung up the phone and started to dash off when Marty grabbed her arm – she'd forgotten he was there.

"Are you alright?" he asked her. She'd gone white.

"Maddy's in hospital," she told him, shaking her head.

"Come on," said Marty, pulling her in the direction of his car, "I'll give you a ride."

"You'll be late for work," Taylor objected.

"I don't care," he told her as he practically forced her to get in the car.

Taylor managed a small smile. "Thank you."

They drove in silence across the city to the hospital, Taylor fidgeting nervously with her cell phone, and Marty shooting her concerned glances from the driver's seat, until they finally pulled up outside the ER.

"Thank you," said Taylor as she made to leap out of the car.

"Just wait there," Marty told her, "I'll park up and come in."

Taylor shook her head, "No, you should go to work."

"Taylor, I don't want to leave you alone."

"I'll be fine, Marty, but you should really go to work," she insisted. "You're already going to be late."

Marty stared into her dark brown eyes, considering her carefully. "Fine," he said reluctantly, "But if you need _anything_, call."

"I will," Taylor managed to throw over her shoulder as she ran into the hospital.

. . .

It was nearly forty-five minutes later before anyone would talk to her, despite her hurling abuse at the receptionist, pacing up and down, and pouncing on every doctor that walked past. Finally, a nurse led her upstairs to a private room. Taylor let out an involuntary gasp as she looked at her sleeping friend. Her arm was bandaged up, and she was sporting a black eye.

"Miss Turner?" came a low voice. It was a doctor, beckoning her outside.

She walked out. "Is she alright?"

The doctor sighed, "We're keeping her in overnight."

"What happened?"

"I'm afraid I can only give that information out to family members."

Taylor began to tap her foot impatiently, "You rang _me_. Surely that counts for something?"

The doctor shook his head, "I'm afraid not."

"Her mother is in California and only speaks Spanish – does she know?" Taylor demanded.

The doctor glanced down at his clipboard, "I believe she has been notified."

"And what, you're going to wait for her to fly out here, before I find out what happened?" Taylor asked, disbelievingly.

"I'm sorry, Miss Turner, but I cannot divulge any information to anyone other than family members."

"Or the police."

Taylor turned around to find Flack and Stella stood behind her – Flack was flashing his ID.

"What happened?" Stella asked, giving Taylor a reassuring smile.

The doctor frowned. "She was brought in by her boyfriend. They claim she fell, but I have seen enough domestic abuse cases, and checking up on her history, she has been in here before-"

"She wasn't abused!" cried Taylor, incredulously. "I know her, she would have said something."

"This is why I didn't want to tell a friend," the doctor muttered.

Taylor was in his face in a flash, "Maddy and I are like sisters," she growled, "I am not just a friend."

"Hey, come on," said Flack, wrapping his arm around her to drag her away. He led her down the corridor, leaving Stella to talk to the doctor.

"What was that for?" she cried, pushing him off her.

"Calm down," said Flack, "And stop getting so emotional."

"_Emotional?" _Taylor snapped."Don't get patronizing with me! That is my best friend in there."

Flack nodded. "You abusing the doctor is not going to help matters."

Taylor's eyes flashed. "I _know _her. She wouldn't allow anyone to do that to her."

Flack bit his tongue – he could tell by looking at her that nothing he said was going to be the right thing at this point. He'd leave that for Stella.

The curly haried detective walked over and joined them. "She has a concussion, but she's going to be alright," she told Taylor.

"What are you guys doing here?" Taylor asked as she let out a sigh of relief.

"Marty. He met us as we were leaving and said you were here," Stella explained.

"You're not here to pro… process her, are you? Because she wasn't abused."

Stella and Flack shared a look. "We can't do anything unless she presses charges," said Stella. "We're here for _you_," she pulled Taylor into a hug.

Taylor pulled away and headed back to Maddy's room. She was awake when she walked in.

"You still have the ability to wake everyone up with your mouth," Maddy told her weakly.

"That's because I spent too much time with you. That temper you have rubbed off on me," she told her as she sat down. She leant over , resting her forearms on the bed. "What happened, Mads?" she asked softly.

"I fell," muttered Maddy, not looking her in the eye – something which Taylor didn't miss.

"Maddy, don't you lie to me," Taylor pleaded. "That was our tequila promise last year of high school – that we wouldn't lie to each other."

"Sometimes I regret ever introducing you to the stuff," Maddy grumbled at her.

"Stop changing the subject and tell me what happened," Taylor demanded, her tone becoming firmer.

Maddy sighed, "It was my fault."

Taylor's mouth dropped open, "What?!" she spluttered.

"I provoked him," Maddy insisted, twisting at the blanket in her hands.

"Provoked him?" Taylor repeated, angrily. "What did you do? Point a gun at his head and tell him that unless he beat the crap out of you, you would shoot him?"

"Taylor," Stella called from the doorway.

"You had better press charges," said Taylor, ignoring Stella.

Maddy shook her head. "No, it was my fault, Taylor. He gets jealous and I know it – I was flirting with someone-"

"He hit you because you were flirting with someone? You had better have told him that you want nothing more to do with him and," she pointed to Stella, "This is my friend, she's a detective, you can pre-"

"I am not pressing charges, Taylor," Maddy quickly interrupted her. "Pete won't do it again."

"Maddy!" Taylor exclaimed, getting to her feet.

"Taylor!" cried Stella, wrapping her hand around her arm and pulling the journalist out of the room.

"He did it Stella," said Taylor, "He actually did it, and she thinks it's her fault?" Tears were beginning to form in the corner of her eyes.

"I have worked far too many domestic abuse cases, Taylor, but if there is one thing I have learnt, it's that you can't bully the victim into pressing charges."

"You're telling me I should drop it?" asked Taylor in disbelief.

"No, she's telling you that you shouldn't be shouting at your friend right now. She needs your support."

Taylor spun on her heel to find Flack behind her. Then her attention fell on the guy behind him, peering into Maddy's room. Taylor scowled and marched past Flack. "Pete?"

The man turned to face her. "You must be Taylor. Maddy's told me all-"

"Don't you even start getting pleasant with me," she threatened him, her voice low and even. "I know exactly what you did, and I'm going to make damn sure you pay."

Pete's face darkened, "What has that little bitch been saying?" he asked her in a voice as equally as low as he took a step towards her.

"You may have frightened Maddy, but you're not going to frighten me," Taylor told him.

Pete raised his fist at her.

"Yeah, you do that! You hit me! Except I sure as hell am going to press charges on you," Taylor snapped.

Pete glanced behind her – Flack and Stella were hurrying over – and dropped his hand.

"What is going on here?" The doctor was back. "This is a _hospital_." He turned to Taylor, "I think you should leave."

Taylor shot a final death glare at Pete and stormed off outside. She was stood to one side of the ambulance bay, watching the emergency case get wheeled in, mentally hitting Pete, when Chloe appeared.

"Stop them."

"Stop them! Stop them?" she shouted at the ghost. "Do I really look like I give a damn about stopping anybody other than Pete, at the moment?"

"Stop them," repeated Chloe. She pointed to a newspaper which was dancing around in the gutter.

Taylor bent down and picked up a can and launched it at the ghost. It went straight through her and rolled across the road. Chloe disappeared.

"Throwing things isn't going to help."

Taylor turned around – it was Flack and Stella.

"We should take you home," suggested Stella.

Taylor shook her head, "No," she told them, wiping the tears of frustration from her eyes. "Whether you believe me or not, Chloe is not going to let me sleep."

Stella shot a look at Flack, "Ghost," he mouthed to her to answer the question.

"Can I go back to the lab?" Taylor asked, suddenly feeling weary.

Stella looked at Taylor. Perhaps being at the lab would be better – at least there would be people around to keep an eye on her. She nodded and put her arm around the younger woman, leading her to their car.


	18. Undercover Lover

**Chapter 17: Undercover Lover**

Stella and Flack were watching Taylor. She had been alternating between wrapping her hair around her finger, pacing up and down, and flicking through Chloe's notepads – Stella had pulled them out so she would have something to do.

"You ever feel like we don't know enough about her?" muttered Flack.

Stella stared at the journalist – she was currently flicking through a notebook. "I know what you mean. We have spent almost as much time working with her as we have Lindsay, but because she isn't actually one of us…" Stella sighed, trailing off.

"Do you actually think she sees ghosts?" Flack asked, his eyes on Stella.

Stella sighed again, "I – she told me something once, something that I never told anyone, about an imaginary friend I had when I was younger. The only way she could have known that is if… I don't know, Don. But she wouldn't be here this much if _she_ truly didn't believe it."

"So you're saying she could be crazy?" said Flack, glancing back at Taylor.

"That's just it. I don't think she _is_ crazy," Stella explained. "But every cell in me is telling me that ghosts don't exist."

"Ghosts _don't_ exist, Stelle," Flack firmly pointed out.

"There is no experiment out there to prove they don't," Stella returned with a shrug of her shoulders.

. . .

Taylor rested her head in her hands as she poured over the notebook, completely oblivious that she was being watched. The pages were covered in squiggles and lines – shorthand – but she was so distracted, her brain wasn't translating it for her. Finally, her eyes caught a word, well, a squiggle – ecstasy. She frowned and reread the page. This was why the ghost kept sending newspapers in her direction. She reread it to make sure, and got up, surprised to find Stella and Flack watching her. "Oh, hello."

"How you holding up?" Stella asked her.

Taylor shrugged. "There's not much I can do, at the moment. I'm just tired of feeling helpless."

"What've you got?" Flack asked, pointing to the notebook.

Taylor looked up at him and smiled, grateful he had changed the subject. "It's Chloe's notebook."

Flack glanced down. "It's a bunch of squiggles."

"Ah, come on, Flack, it doesn't look much different from your handwriting," joked Stella.

"My writing isn't _that_ bed," Flack objected.

Taylor smiled, she knew they were bickering for her benefit. "It's shorthand. She was investigating a new supply of ecstasy on campus. From the sounds of things, she found a lead – the football team." She flipped to the last page, "She says here that she was going to check out the local student bar on Saturday night. Last night." She looked up at the two detectives, "We should check the bar out."

Stella pursed her lips. "_We _shouldn't be doing anything."

"Oh, come on!" Taylor muttered, rolling her eyes. "It's a student bar - it's Fred's. _I_ used to go in there all the time."

"Which is precisely why we should hand this case over to narcotics," Flack told her, firmly.

"Don is right, Taylor," Stella agreed. £You are not a detective."

"Yes, but-"

"_But_ the last time you decided to go undercover, you ended up with a knife being held to your throat," Flack scowled at her.

Taylor pulled a face, scoffing loudly. "For the record, I didn't go in _undercover_. I went in as a journalist."

"Whatever!" said Flack. "You still ended up with a knife at your throat."

"Fine," sighed Taylor. She was too tired to argue. "I'm going to go home then."

Stella and Flack exchanged a look, "Fine," repeated Flack, "But I'm walking you."

"I am perfectly capable of walking the few blocks myself," Taylor retorted, scowling at him.

"Taylor, this _is_ New York City. You've seen what can happen to women who walk the streets alone," Stella told her.

"I've done it plenty of times before," Taylor objected.

"Humour me," Flack told her.

. . .

An hour later, Taylor was stepping out of a desperately needed shower.

"Stop them."

Taylor glanced up from the leg she was drying, "Hello Chloe," she greeted the ghost tiredly.

"Stop them."

She sighed. "I'm going, alright. I just needed to get changed first." She wrapped the towel around her and stepped around the ghost to get to her room. She pulled some clothes out of the bottom of her closet – things she hadn't worn since college. A pair of tight denim jeans, black pointy stilettos and a black halter-neck top.

She let her hair dry without straightening it – she always looked younger when her hair was curly, and only put the most basic of mascara on. She only really needed to drop a couple of years, as she looked younger than she was anyway. She grabbed her purse and left, grateful that Marty was at work.

Fred's was a fair walk, so she hopped on the subway. As she emerged on the street level on the other side, she had the strangest feeling she was being followed, but when she looked back, there was no-one there. She shrugged to herself and walked the remaining block to Fred's. It hadn't changed much since she used to frequent it – just different music. She paid the door fee, got her wristband and went it.

The place was busy, for a Sunday night, but not that busy she couldn't navigate or see across the bar with any difficulty. Not that much scoping of the place was needed. She spotted the football team with a bunch of girls – probably cheerleaders – playing beer pong in the back. She leant against the bar and ordered a drink, watching them.

She knew she was generalising, but after the cheerleaders at her high school made her life miserable the entire time she was there, she really had no sympathy for them. Put another way, they bullied her. The only reason that she got through high school was because of her job on the school paper, and of course, Maddy.

She swallowed her drink and ordered another one – just an orange juice this time. She was debating what to do, when a guy went up to one of the football players. It was the same time Chloe appeared and pointed to him.

The football player got up and started walking in Taylor's direction, the other guy close behind. Taylor turned quickly to face the bar, hoping they wouldn't have noticed her watching them. They didn't seem to, and Taylor followed them out under the pretence of using her phone. Outside, she ducked behind the hood of a car and watched as they walked over to another car, a Ford, on the other side of the street and opened its trunk.

"What the hell are you doing here?" came an angry whisper.

Taylor nearly leapt four foot in the air as she spun around. "You followed me?" she whispered back, angrily.

"Of course I followed you," Flack hissed at her. "I knew you would end up here, even though me and Stella told you specifically not to."

Behind them, the trunk came crashing shut, and the two guys started to make their way back in Flack and Taylor's direction. Taylor panicked, and did the first thing that came to mind. She grabbed Flack and kissed him.

The next thing she knew, his hands were in her hair, and she had grabbed his belt – he had changed into a button down shirt and pair of jeans – and pulled him closer. They fell heavily backwards into the car behind her. Well, Taylor could honestly say, that at that moment in time, Chloe, the drugs… even Maddy, were completely forgotten about – all she could concentrate on were his hands, and his tongue, as she ran her hands up his back. That was until oxygen became an issue. She snatched herself away from him, ducking under his arms, "They've gone," she muttered, her face flushed.

"What the hell was that?" Flack asked, not even bothering to whisper as he stared at her, dumbfounded.

"It was a cover, doofas. Get over it." she told him, straightening her hair with her hands.

"What about Marty?" Flack asked.

"What _about_ Marty?" Taylor returned.

"He's my friend."

"He's my _friend,_ too. God, Flack, it was one kiss. It's not going to happen again – don't worry about that." She stalked back into the club.

"What are you doing here?" Flack asked her as he caught up with her, after paying the doorman.

Taylor turned to stare at him. "Chloe's ghost wanted me to come here, which I told you earlier, but you didn't take me seriously then. You're not taking me seriously now, which leads me to the question, what are you doing here?"

"Making sure you don't get hurt," he told her furiously.

"You don't trust me," realised Taylor. "You don't think I can look after myself."

"You have had a knife held to your neck by a murderer."

"THAT HAPPENED ONCE!" Taylor finally snapped. "Are you going to hold it against me for the rest of my life?" she yelled at him, thankful that because of the music, not many people were able to hear their conversation.

"It's not the best track record you've got going there. And it's not just that incident – look what happened at the hospital today," Flack responded. "Your friend's boyfriend nearly hit you."

"Is everything alright here?"

Great, they'd attracted security over there. "Everything is fine, thank you," answered Taylor – to whom the question had been directed.

Flack nodded in agreement.

"Look," said Taylor, as the man walked off. "Just go home. You don't believe me about the ghosts, so there is actually no reason for you to be here."

"I'm not going anywhere, Taylor," Flack told her wearily. "If Stella knew I let you ride the subway by yourself, she would actually have my head."

"It was _you_ following me on the subway?" Taylor said, incredulously.

Flack took a deep breath. "I am not going to say anything."

Taylor rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the football players. Except, by this point, they had all left. "Great!" she cried, throwing her arms in the air. She hurried back outside, but they were nowhere in sight, and the Ford had gone.

Taylor sighed and began heading back towards the subway, Flack right behind her. It wasn't until they had gone underground that the two noticed they weren't alone. Three of the football players were stood waiting for the same train as they were. "NYU sucks!" one of them yelled at her.

Taylor froze.

"What?" Flack asked her, noticing her tense up.

"You know how the other day someone threw a beer can at me?" Taylor asked Flack carefully. "That's him – that's his voice."

Flack looked over Taylor's shoulder at the three guys who were now playing a small, drunken version of soccer, kicking a can around. "You sure?" As Taylor nodded, he pulled out his cell phone and called dispatch, requesting backup. He was about to tell Taylor to stay where she was, but she had already started walking over.

"You owe me an apology," she told the one who had thrown the can at her.

"I think it is you that owes the apology," he told her. "An apology for being _that_ fine."

Taylor shot him a disgusted look. "Let me refresh your memory. A week ago you threw a beer can from your car at a girl in an NYU cheerleader outfit."

The guys started laughing. "NYU sucks!" the guy told her.

"So you keep saying," said Flack as he came over, throwing a glare at Taylor.

"And who are you?" the guy demanded, squaring up to him.

"NYPD," Flack told him, pulling his ID out of his pocket. "And you are under arrest."

"Under what charges?" the guy scoffed.

"Assault."

The guy pulled a face, "Are you serious?"

"Don't make me add being a jerk to that charge," Flack said, turning him around and handcuffing him. He handed him over to the two uniforms who had appeared, and then turned to face Taylor, his face like thunder.

Taylor winced. The journey home was not going to be a pleasant one.


	19. It's Not Just Murderers

**Chapter 18: It's Not Just Murderers**

Forty five minutes. That's how long the drive back to the precinct was, and that was how long Flack lectured her for. Taylor was certain he drove the most obscure way there. By the time they had arrived and parked up, her voice was horse from the argument they'd had. Taylor got out of the car before Flack could say another word, slamming the door shut behind her. She stormed off into the Crime lab. She was passing by the break room when her phone rang, so she stepped in, dropping down on the vacant couch. "Hello?"

"_Where are you?" _the caller demanded.

"Lindsay?" asked Taylor in confusion.

"_Yes," _Lindsay replied. She didn't sound impressed_. "I am sat in Squares with Danny, well, actually, I'm in the bathroom, but it's just me and him, and he's been insulting the country for the past hour. Where are you?"_

"Oh, Lindsay, I am so sorry," sighed Taylor, sinking back into the couch.

"_You haven't done this intentionally, have you?" Lindsay asked, her tone accusatory._

"No! I had a phone call on my way out from the hospital. My friend Maddy was admitted. I completely forgot," she apologised.

"_Oh!" _Lindsay exclaimed, her tone instantly changing to one of concern._ "Is she alright?"_

Taylor sighed. "Long story short, she's fine physically. Her boyfriend hit her."

"_Are you there now? Do you want some company?"_

"Thank you, Lindsay, but I'm back at the lab," Taylor explained. "I'll be fine."

"_Alright, well, I will call you later, then."_

The two said their goodbyes and Taylor hung up. Just in time for the ghost of Chloe to appear. "Stop them."

Taylor stared at her, exhaustion setting in. "Is this my penance for watching a couple of movies, because the powers that be, whoever they are, have a really messed up conception of balance.

"Stop them."

"I don't know who _they_ are, Chloe. Are we talking about the football team, or is someone supplying them with drugs, or, are we talking about the IRA? I can't stop anyone unless you tell me who to stop," she told the ghost wearily, rubbing at her temples.

"Please, stop them."

"Using manners, isn't going to help the matter, when you don't give me anything else to go on," she told the ghost as Chloe disappeared.

"The latest ghost?" asked Marty as he came and sat down next to her, handing her a couple of aspirin and a bottle of water.

Taylor nodded. "I don't understand her, Marty. She keeps telling me to _stop them_, but I don't know who _they_ are." She swallowed the pills.

"How's Maddy?" Marty asked her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I meant to come and see you. I just got so distracted by the ghost," she told him as he pulled her into a hug. "She's a fighter, but... she doesn't see that there's anything wrong. I don't know what to do, Marty. I didn't even talk to her. I just shouted. And Chloe, the ghost, won't leave me alone. If this is all some test, they're going the right way to make me fail."

Marty rested his head on her chin, "Come on, I'll help. It's 2am, right?"

Taylor pulled back to stare up at him. Slowly, she nodded.

"Well, visiting hours are over now, so let's focus on this ghost first. Chloe? What do we know?" he asked her.

Taylor sighed. "She did exactly the same thing I did at college - she found a story and went after it, regardless of the consequences, except, for her, the consequence was death."

"Alright, so she found out about some ecstasy and died because of it, right?"

"Yeah," Taylor agreed.

"So, who do you think _they_ are?"

"I've had to research drugs in the student life on campus before," Taylor responded, thoughtfully. "In only about 1% of the cases, did the students actually create the drugs, or be top of the food chain. The rest of the time, they were just on the lowest rank of dealer." She sighed, "I don't think the football players are using – NCAA guidelines mean they get drug tested, and at the same time, I don't think they would sell them either. I know selling them would mean they would lose their sports scholarship, but so would any other student. But it was a football player that Chloe pointed to."

"I heard Flack arrested one of them?" Marty suggested.

Taylor nodded. "Yeah, but it was because he was the guy that launched the can at me the other day."

"Perhaps you should start with him," he suggested, before reaching for his pager which had started bleeping at him. "That's downstairs. I have to go, but wait here when you're done, and I'll come find you," he told her, giving her shoulder one last squeeze.

Taylor watched him go. She was sat with her head in her hands when a pair of shoes appeared in her line of vision. "Don't bother," she told Flack, without looking up.

He sat down next to her. "Help me out here," he said softly.

Taylor turned to look at him.

"The kid we arrested had enough ecstasy on him that he was borderline possession and dealing," Flack explained.

Taylor shrugged. "Tell him I'll drop the assault charges if he gives up who supplied the drugs."

"I can't make deals, Taylor, that's the DA's job," Flack quickly pointed out.

Taylor sighed, "You're not making a deal, I'll just drop the charges if he talks. He doesn't need assault on top of possession charges."

"I really struggle to understand you, sometimes," he told her softly before getting to his feet. "What makes you so certain that he's going to accept?"

"I don't," she replied with a shrug. "But what's the harm in trying?"

Flack stared down at her. "Are you going to come watch?"

Taylor nodded and followed him, taking the familiar route next door to the interview room. She settled herself down on the other side of the mirror.

. . .

"You want to explain these, Liam?" Flack asked the student he had arrested earlier, dropping an evidence bag of half a dozen white pills on the table.

"Never seen them before in my life," Liam responded.

"Interesting, that, considering I pulled them from you back jeans pocket myself."

"Somebody must have put them there," Liam suggested, lamely.

Flack, who was stood beside him, looked down at him in disbelief. "So, you're telling me that someone stuck this noticeably sized packet of tablets into your _back_ pocket, without you noticing?" Flack smirked. "Or perhaps it's just that you are used to people groping you?"

"I'm not gay," Liam snapped back at him defensively.

"Hey," said Flack, holding his hands up. "I never said the person groping you was a guy – you made that assumption yourself. But I'm not here to talk to you about your sexuality." He walked around to the other side of the table, pulled the chair out and swung it around. He sat down, resting his forearms against the back of the chair. "Now, they way I see it, you got two options. The first is you sit there, say nothing, and you get charged for assault, as well as possession. And if I have my way, I'm going to get intent to supply in there too. The other option is that you tell me where you got the pills from, and I'll see to it that the assault charge goes away – you can drop a good ten years of your sentence."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Liam said, shaking his head.

"Fine by me," Flack told him, leaning back. "But I'll tell you this – a football player like you – the guys in Attica won't have a problem whether you're gay or not."

"Drew Lawrence," Liam shot out.

"Now, that didn't take you long, did it?" said Flack as he made a note in his notebook.

"He's the starting quarterback," Liam quickly added.

"And where's he getting the ecstasy from?"

Liam shook his head. "I don't know."

"Liam," Flack pressed.

"I _don't_! Honestly. He'd just give us fresh packets when we got low – exchanged the cash, you know?"

"Who are _us_?" Flack continued.

Without missing a beat, Liam told him. "Martin Green, and Davie Oraha."

"Quite the little canary, aren't ya?" smirked Flack.

"Huh?"

"Ya like singing," Flack explained.

Liam glared at him.

"Just one last question," Flack added as he rose to his feet.

"What?" Liam asked, continuing to try to kill Flack with his eyes.

"Who killed Chloe Barnes?"

"That God-annoying journalist?" Liam asked, in surprise. "Don't know. But she deserved it."

Flack looked down at him in disgust. "She deserved to die?"

"Hell yeah. Little bitch was always snooping into everything. Someone probably just dropped an E in her drink – try to get her to loosen up."

. . .

Taylor had heard enough. She got up and headed to the break room to wait for Marty. She would have gone down to see him, but if he had been called to the morgue, that meant he was probably processing a body – and she really didn't need to see that.

She was curled up on the couch when Chloe appeared again, this time dressed in white.

"Thank you."

"But I didn't find your killer," Taylor frowned as she pulled herself into a sitting position.

"No," Chloe agreed. "And you won't. I don't know who killed me – the bar was very busy – so I don't expect that you ever will."

"So, you just wanted me to shut down a handful of dealers?" Taylor asked, puzzled.

Chloe nodded. "Your detective friend is next door, right now, passing on all of this information to the narcotics department. It's enough. It will take time, but it's enough."

"Oh, well, you're welcome," Taylor smiled.

"Can I ask one last favour?"

"Um, sure," Taylor agreed, hesitantly.

"I have never taken drugs," Chloe told her. "Will you please make sure my parents know that? They'll be here tomorrow."

Taylor nodded, "I'll see what I can do."


	20. That's Why You Should Use A Torch

**Chapter 19: That's Why You Should Use A Torch.**

Taylor yawned and rolled over in bed, glancing at the clock. It was 8am already. She had intended on getting out of bed early to get her column finished. Maddy was being released from hospital after lunch, and she had finally managed to convince her friend to come and stay with her for a couple of days.

She watched the LED display switch to 8.03 and got out of bed. Only to be greeted by a ghost. Taylor jumped, swearing loudly.

"It wasn't me."

Taylor rubbed her eyes. The ghost looked familiar, but she couldn't place him. He was wearing pyjamas which were covered in blood – clearly having gotten there from the great gashing cut on his throat. She could see all kinds of veins, muscles, and even bone.

"It wasn't me."

Taylor covered her mouth and dashed to the bathroom to throw up. When her stomach had been emptied of its contents, she leaned back against the wall and took some deep breaths. It didn't seem like she was ever going to get used to sights like that. She brushed her teeth, had a quick wash, and got dressed, opting for a pair of denim shorts and a white camisole. Grabbing a sweater, she dashed out of her apartment.

It was a beautiful day out, and Taylor was glad Maddy was coming out on a day like this – the sun always cheered her friend up. If she hurried, she could hopefully help wrap the case up by lunch time, then pick Maddy up, and she could write the column with Maddy around – she'd probably want a long bath first, anyway.

She bounded up the stairs to the precinct – her intention to go straight to Flack, then, as she got to the doorway to the homicide detectives, stopped. She hadn't really seen him since the night she'd kissed him. Maybe going straight to Mac, or even Stella, would be a better idea. Well, that would have worked in theory, if she hadn't turned around and walked straight into the detective she was hoping to avoid.

"Taylor?" exclaimed Flack, going a nice shade of red.

"Uh, hi," she greeted back, also a similar colour red.

Flack rubbed at the back of his neck. "What brings you here?"

"The same thing that always brings me her," she shrugged. "A ghost."

Flack gave her an exasperated sigh. "Look, Taylor, Hunter Hudson has just been discovered dead. I don't have time for this."

"Hudson! That's who it is," Taylor exclaimed, clicking her fingers. "I knew I recognised him. That's the ghost."

"Uh huh," he said, giving her the, all-too-familiar, sceptical look.

"Look, Flack, I don't have time for this. I have to pick Maddy up from hospital in four and a half hours. So you could save us both the time of me going to see Mac, only for him to assign me to the case with you, so we can go and get this thing solved," she blurted out.

Flack glared at her. "_Assign you to the case_? You're not a detective, or a CSI, Taylor. You're a journalist. And a damn annoying one at that."

"Annoying _and_ right," Taylor quickly corrected him. "You know if I go up there, he's just going to call you."

Flack let out an exasperated sigh, "Fine," he said, stalking off to his car. Taylor beamed brightly, then followed him close behind.

. . .

"I just can't believe it," Danny said to Stella as they walked into the crime scene "Two years have gone by and I haven't heard one word and out of the blue he leaves me a message saying "'I'm in the city, do you wanna grab a beer'. It can only mean trouble."

Stella gave him a smile. "Oh, Danny, he's your brother. Cut him some slack."

"Fine, if it's not trouble, he's probably looking for a handout."

"You always expect the worst in people?" asked Taylor, as she appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Hi Taylor, I should have known you'd be here," said Stella, giving her a smile. She turned her attention back to Danny. "Why don't you just call Louie back, I mean, before assuming the worst? Whether it's really a beer he wants, or he needs your help? After all, he is family." She followed Taylor to the victim's bedroom. "Throat slashed with a knife," she noted.

"You sure that's him?" Danny asked, nodding at the body.

"Hunter Hudson. Billionaire recluse," confirmed Taylor. "There was a picture of him in the paper last year. Actually, it was more like a composite."

Stella nodded. "Rumour is he didn't get out much."

Danny wandered over to the bedside cabinet. "I got some pills here." he told the two women as he held the container up. "Sertaline. Our vic was on a daily dose of anti-depressants," he explained to a confused Taylor.

"I got a blood trail," said Stella, shining her torch on the floor.

"Is it just me, or is this bedroom kinda giving you the creeps?" Danny asked as he glanced around the room.

Taylor shuddered. "I'm glad you said that before me."

"I agree," said Stella. "No windows, that is kind of weird. You know what, Danny, you stay with the vic, and I'm going to go get Flack. He called me on this one - see what he knows."

Taylor stood watching Danny for a few minutes, then decided that the body was too creepy, and the room too dark, and decided to go find Stella. Stella was still talking to Flack when Taylor walked over. "…We could wrap this one up quick," Stella was telling Flack.

Taylor's eyes lit up – perhaps she would be able to get some of her column done before she had to be at the hospital.

"What?" Flack asked her, equally as hopeful.

"Mansion like this, it's always the butler." Taylor's face dropped – maybe not. "Didn't you ever play Clue?" Stella asked Flack.

"I was a Monopoly guy," said Flack with a grin.

What about you?" Stella asked Taylor.

"Me?" she sighed, "I was a Scrabble kid."

Stella laughed, "I wouldn't expect anything else. Alright," she said, turning to Flack. "Big money always comes with enemies. Let's make a few phone calls and see who stood to gain from Hunter Hudson's death."

. . .

Taylor was pacing the room, some twenty minutes later, impatiently waiting for the ghost of Hudson to appear. Time was ticking away and it wouldn't be long before she would have to go pick Maddy up from the hospital. With a fed up sigh she headed back over to Stella and Flack, who were both busy talking to Hudson's private physician.

"Dr Penn, what were you treating Mr Hudson for? Was he sick?" Stella was asking the doctor.

"Hudson suffered from post traumatic stress disorder, and OCD. Medication and daily hypnotherapy helped him to cope," Dr Penn responded.

"So the stories are true?" Flack asked.

"What? That hunter was crazy?" Dr Penn responded. "Twenty years ago, he suffered a severe emotional trauma. His younger brother was kidnapped and murdered and it was something he never really recovered from."

"Alright, well, thank you doctor," Stella told him.

"Please, whatever I can do," he said, before walking away.

Taylor frowned, _you could start by telling us who killed him_, she thought, growing more and more impatient.

"Hypnotherapy?" said Stella, a slight smirk on her face.

"When you're rich enough – you try things," said Flack, grinning back. "Sounds like the guy was suicidal."

Taylor frowned. That didn't sound right.

"What's up with you, Taylor?" Flack asked her, noticing her frown.

"I don't think he killed himself," Taylor told him slowly.

"And what makes you say that?" Flack asked, even though his tone indicated he knew the answer would be ghost related.

"The fact the ghost is doing an excellent impression of Shaggy," she muttered, before heading back to find Danny. Perhaps he had found something to wrap this case up quickly.

Taylor wandered back into the eerie bedroom, towards the back, where Danny was looking around the bed. She frowned. "What is it with you CSIs that you never turn a light on to process a scene?" she asked him, flicking the light switch.

"Hold on a sec," called Stella, hurrying over.

Taylor and Danny turned around in time to see the door swing shut.

"That's not good," said Danny, running over to the door, Taylor close at his heels. "What the hell?"

"Hey!" yelled Taylor, hammering on the door.

"Are you kidding me? What the hell's going on?" Danny shouted at the door. He turned around to Taylor looking less than impressed. "That is why we use torches."

While Danny was pacing around, trying to find another switch, Taylor was running her fingers over the door, trying to see if there was some way to open it there.

Suddenly, a monitor flashed on. Danny and Taylor moved in front of it – they could see Stella and Flack looking really worried, along with the housekeeper, Linda Cortesse.

"That's beautiful, I can see you guys," said Danny.

"Hey guys," Stella said, looking slightly relieved. "Alright," she said, turning to Linda, "There's got to be another way to get in the room."

"This is the only door," Linda told them. "Mr Hudson had it preset to close at 9pm, and reopen again at 9am when the staff arrived."

"Is that the time you got here?" Stella asked her.

Linda shook her head. "No, 9.30. I usually arrive early to prepare breakfast, but I stopped at the market this morning."

"Whoa, just stop and rewind!" Taylor exclaimed, her eyes widening.

"You telling me this spaceship doesn't open up again until tomorrow morning?" Danny asked, looking just as worried as Taylor.

"It doesn't open period," Linda corrected him. She looked apologetic at that fact.

Taylor's stomach dropped. "I beg your pardon?"

"You just said he had it preset to open again at 9am," said Flack, stepping in.

Linda nodded. "But that's under normal operating conditions. Once the panic button has been hit, the room thinks there is an intruder and it won't reopen until the security code has been re-entered."

Flack sighed. "How many numbers in the code?"

Linda shrugged. "I have no idea."

Taylor shut her eyes and began mentally counting to ten.

"This is getting better and better," Danny muttered. "I'm not spending a week in here with a crazy dead guy, trying to figure out the codes, so do me a favour. Call a locksmith."

"A week?!" exclaimed Taylor. "I have to be at the hospital at 2!"

"Jerry Gordon," Linda told them quickly. "He built the room for Mr Hudson."

"I'll find him," said Flack, before leaving.

"Thanks Flack," Stella said to the retreating detective's back. "Okay," she said, returning her attention to the monitor. "Well, I'm going to start processing out here. Don't worry, you two – we've got it under control. Help is on the way."

"I'll be in here," said Danny.

"Yeah, it's quite cosy," Taylor added dryly.

. . .

"Hey Danny?" called Stella, interrupting Taylor's thoughts. She was pacing up and down by the monitor, playing with the gloves she had on. As soon as it had become apparent that they were going to be in there a while, Danny had produced them from his pocket and insisted she wear them.

Danny walked back over to the monitor. "Find something?"

"Yeah," confirmed Stella. "I've got a blood trail which strangely seems to lead to the sink first. _Then_ the phone."

"Maybe the housekeeper got sick and went to the sink," suggested Taylor. It was what she would have done. She glanced down at the dead body and shuddered. "There's an awful lot of blood in here."

Stella smiled. "Good suggestion, but I've got short strides. Tells me she wasn't running."

Danny shrugged. "She knew Hunter was dead. What's the rush?"

"She probably checked for the pulse," said Stella.

Taylor watched as Danny walked over to the body. "I dunno," said Danny, as he knelt down. "This blood pool looks undisturbed. No signs that she checked for vitals."

"Ok," said Stella, thoughtfully. "Linda finds her boss in a pool of blood, yet she doesn't check to make sure he's dead, and then she takes her time to call the police. She's got my attention."

"Cavalry's here!" Flack called, as he made his way into the view of the camera. "This is Jerry Gordon. His company built Mr Hudson's panic room."

"Hallelujah!" cried Danny.

"You are officially my new best friend," added Taylor.

Jerry gave them an apologetic smile. "Unfortunately, there's no master code that can override the system. The only way in there is if I cut a new door."

Taylor could feel her stomach drop. "How long is that gonna take?" she asked warily.

"A minimum of thirteen hours."

"Excuse me?!" exclaimed Danny. "Thirteen hours?!"

"Yeah, and I'm gonna have to shut down the power to do it," Jerry told them. "The backup generator will kick in when I pull the plug. But it's only got limited power – forget fresh air circulating – it's not hooked up to any auxiliary power feed."

Taylor's mouth dropped open.

"That's beautiful," muttered Danny.

"It might get a little toasty in there. You might wanna conserve your oxygen," Jerry added.

"Fantastic," said Danny.

Taylor let her body slam against the door. Thirteen hours? She was supposed to be picking Maddy up. And her column? She hadn't even started it. She let out a rather long, aggressive stream of expletives.

Danny looked over in shock. "Drew!"

Taylor glared at him. "My dad is in the Navy, and my mother is Italian. I picked up some of their finer habits. So sue me."

"Hey Danny," interrupted Stella. "You've got to start processing in there, right now."

Danny returned his attention to the monitor. "Process? With what? I don't have a kit."

"I know," Stella nodded. "You're going to have to improvise. You heard what Jerry said. It's going to get hot in there. And Taylor, you're going to have to help him."

"What?" asked Taylor, shaking her head. "Stella, the only things I know about forensics are what I've picked up from you in the lab on the odd occasion. I can't process a scene."

"Don't worry," said Stella, "Danny and I will be here to tell you what to do. But if you both don't start now, that body's going to decay further, and we're going to start to lose evidence. We can't let the killer get a head start."

Taylor shut her eyes and hit her head against the door a couple of times. "Fine," she reluctantly agreed. "What do you want me to do?"


	21. Back To Basics

**Chapter 20: Back To Basics**

Taylor was not happy. Helping ghosts was one thing. But helping CSIs? That was just wrong. Yet there she was, helping Danny undress a dead body – which wasn't an easy feat. She'd undressed Maddy on occasion, when she'd come in so drunk she'd passed out on the bed, but at least Maddy was tiny.

"Alright, I got the vic's clothes off," said Danny into his earpiece – he was on the phone to Marty, who didn't know that Taylor was there. Danny paused, listening to what Marty was saying. "Got a flashlight. Hang on," he said grabbing his phone. "I'm gonna put you on speaker phone." He pulled the earpiece out and pressed a button on his Razr. "Alright."

_"Lucky for you, you're not claustrophobic_," Marty's voice came out of the phone, sounding slightly tinny. "_Me, I do not like confined spaces."_

Taylor sat silently, watching Danny process examine the body – concentrating on trying to stop herself from throwing up, rather than getting into conversation.

"So why did you choose a career which puts you in windowless rooms with dead bodies, then?" Danny asked, as he looked at the victim's throat.

Marty chuckled. "_Ladies love the degree. They don't ask specifics_."

Danny smirked. "Six years of med school to become a player, huh?"

"_No,_" said Marty. "_I was already a player Messer. I just needed the bank to pay for my Porsche_."

Danny looked up at Taylor, suddenly realising she was there. "Um, Marty, I should probably point out that Taylor's here," he told the coroner, after seeing the hurt look on Taylor's face.

"_Taylor? She's trapped in there with you_?"

"Yeah, and you're on speakerphone too, remember," Danny reminded him.

Marty swore down the phone.

"Hi, Marty," said Taylor quietly.

"Alright," said Danny, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen. "The only thing abnormal about our vic is the amount of blood leaking from his neck."

_"No defensive wounds_?" asked Marty, clearly sounding as relieved as Taylor felt that Danny had said something.

"Doesn't look like he fought back," Danny told him. He pointed to the body and looked at Taylor.

"Erm, no, I guess not," confirmed Taylor.

_"Ok, describe the neck wound to me."_

"No hesitation marks, one cut – it looks clean," Danny told him, as he peered in for a closer look.

_"Single incised wound. Is there blanching?"_

"Pushing on the lividity," said Danny, explaining to Taylor at the same time as to what he was doing, "It's clear and coming back."

_"Your victim has been in that position for less than 6 hours. Let's get a more precise TOD."_

Danny glanced up at Taylor, a not-so-happy expression on his face. "You are not serious?"

_"There's gotta be a bathroom there, right?"_

"Yeah," said Danny slowly.

_"Well_," said Marty, a small smile edging his tone of voice. "Be a good boy scout, and find a thermometer."

"I'll go," said Taylor, happy for any excuse which meant she could get away from the body – even if it was only for the minute needed to locate a thermometer.

"It's your lucky day, doc," said Danny as Taylor returned and handed him the item.

_"Nice. Now plant it in the end-zone and put some points on the board."_

There was a long silence as Danny struggled to insert the thermometer, a pained expression on his face. Even Taylor looked a little uncomfortable about what the CSI was doing.

_"… Messer? Is it in?"_

"Give me a second," Danny grimaced. "Rigour's setting in."

Taylor winced and looked away.

_"Welcome to my world,"_ said Marty, laughing again.

Danny pulled the thermometer out and held it up in the flickering light. "Temperature's 93."

"_That means your victim's been dead for four hours. Rigour and lividity confirm."_

Danny shook his head. "Nah, that's impossible. The housekeeper said this room did not open up until three hours ago."

_"If that's the case, then how did your killer get inside?"_

"Perhaps the killer was already inside," said Danny. "Perhaps our guy killed himself."

"It wasn't me."

Taylor looked up and saw the ghost of Hunter looking sadly at the body of himself.

_"Who was that?"_

"Who was who?" asked Danny, looking between Taylor and the phone in confusion.

_"Who said '_it wasn't me'?"

"You heard that?" asked Taylor, watching the ghost disappear.

"Guys, there's no-one else here," said Danny.

"_Taylor, was that Hudson?"_

Taylor smiled, feeling for the first time that she wasn't going completely crazy, "Yeah."

_"Well, Danny, you are looking for a murder suspect, and not a suicide."_

"There's no one here!" exclaimed Danny.

Marty laughed, "_Put it this way, Danny, it's two against one at this point."_ He laughed again and hung up.

Taylor let out a breath and slumped backwards so she was lying on the floor, knees in the air.

"Was there really someone in here, or were you and Marty winding me up?"

"Yes, Danny," said Taylor dryly, as she stared at the ceiling. "I called Marty earlier, knowing I would be trapped in here with you, to make sure that when you called him to process the body, he would play along with my little joke that I was seeing ghosts. That's why he clearly realised that I was in here with you."

Danny stared at her, trying to think of a reasonable explanation as to what had just happened. Upon failing, he changed the subject. "You seemed pretty upset about Marty's comments."

Taylor shrugged.

"Considering you kissed Flack."

Taylor whipped her head around. "How did you find out about that."

"Don's a friend. We talk."

Taylor shut her eyes, "I'm not seeing Marty, you know?"

"So why did you kiss Flack?"

Taylor looked at him. "Well, you two obviously don't talk _that_ much. I was… watching two guys, and he turned up. And then the two guys headed over to where we were, so I kissed him. I didn't want them to realise I had been spying on them."

Danny licked his lips. "Apparently, you're not too shabby in the kissing department."

Taylor managed a small smile. "Flack's not too bad himself," she blushed, realising what she was saying.

"You like Donny-boy," smirked Danny.

"I do not!" Taylor indignantly exclaimed.

"You like Marty, then?"

Taylor slowly shook her head. "I live with him. That would just get complicated."

"That's not answering the question," Danny was quick to point out.

Taylor scowled. "I really need to spend more time with people who aren't CSIs. You're too damn perceptive."

"You're still not answering the question," said Danny, with a smile.

"I'm not a suspect – I don't need to answer anything," Taylor retorted.

"So speaketh a guilty mind."

Taylor let out an exasperated groan. "I don't know, alright! He can be really sweet – I'll come home, and find that he's done the ironing, and drawn a bath ready for me, and then I hear things like that," she glared at Danny, "Happy now?"

Danny laughed. "For now, Drew. For now."

"What's with all this Drew nonsense anyway?" Taylor asked with a frown.

"Nancy Drew. It was Flack's idea, actually."

"Nancy Drew?" Taylor repeated slowly.

"Well, where are you from?" Danny shrugged.

"California – about twenty miles from San Diego."

"See, California doesn't have the same ring to it as Montana," he grinned, "Diego, on the other hand – I could live with that."

Taylor sighed, "Is there any reason why I need a nickname when I have a perfectly good name?"

"Yeah, cuz my boss is called Taylor. It gets pretty confusing," Danny informed her, lightly.

Taylor was about to launch into a rant about Danny being an intelligent person, and therefore, the concept of dealing with two people, whose first names, nor surnames were actually the same, wasn't that difficult a task. Thankfully he was saved by Stella.

"Hey, Danny, our housekeeper had all the right answers," Stella told them.

Taylor sat upright and looked over at the monitor, "Well maybe she's a really good liar."

Stella nodded, "Maybe. The panic room does not open until 9am, yet Hunter was killed an hour earlier. How does somebody get in a locked vault with only one door?"

Danny let out a dry laugh, "If Houdini were alive, we'd have our killer."

Stella sighed, "The only way to solve this puzzle is to find something inside of that room."

"Alright. What do you suggest?"

"Let's print the knife," Stella suggested. "Now I saw a coffee pot in there – grab that. Taylor, go see if you can find some glue."

Taylor nodded and got to her feet. When she found the thermometer earlier she had noticed some shelves with some bizarre supplies. She headed for it, finding a couple of packets of super glue. She grabbed one and headed back to the other room, "I found this: Mighty Glue," she said, holding the tube up.

"Good," said Stella, nodding. "Alright, that will do. Empty the glue into the coffee pot. Once you do that, I want you to insert the knife and turn the machine on."

"I think I've seen this on an episode of _The Flintstones_," quipped Danny as he took the glue off of Taylor and squeezed it into the pot.

"Cute," said Stella with a small smile.

"Alright," said Danny to Taylor, taking the knife she was holding off her, and placing the handle in the pot.

_But now I'm high…_

Taylor turned around at the sound of the James Blunt, watching the locksmith pull his phone out of his pocket.

"Cute," she heard Stella say.

"Yeah," agreed Jerry, "Me and my girlfriend, we downloaded the same ringer." He flicked the phone open, "Yeah, speak of the devil."

"It's working," called Danny, making Taylor revert her attention back to the smoking coffee pot. She could see the prints appearing, like magic.

"That stinks," she told him, wrinkling up her nose. Danny smirked at her.

"Alright," Stella called, "Now we're going to need elimination prints. Pen ink will be great."

"I saw some near the glue," said Taylor as she disappeared to get it.

"Is there a razor in there too?" Danny called after her.

By the time she had returned with both items, Danny had located some paper and was setting a CD case in front of him. He took the razor off of Taylor and stamped on it, whilst she set to pulling the biro apart. Danny squeezed the ink out, using the razor to spread it out, and then went to take the prints of the dead body.

He laid the sample prints out, next to the knife and handed Taylor a small magnifying glass. She frowned and peered at the prints. After a few minutes, she pointed at one on the knife. "That one doesn't match."

Danny took the microscope off her and compared the prints for himself. "Miss Godiva, grab your camera – we've got a foreign print." He walked over to the monitor and held the print up to the camera.

"That's right, hold that," said Stella, "Good job, you two." She walked over to the computer and loaded it in. Taylor and Danny waited impatiently as they watched her. Finally, "Great… got a hit."

"Nice, said Danny. "Who is it?"

"Roger Hagler," Stella told them.

"Great, said Taylor. "Know where we can find him?"

Stella nodded. "Downstairs. He's Hunter Hudson's bodyguard."


	22. Word Of The Day - Improvise

**Chapter 21: I'm gonna have to go with dead-boy on this one.**

Taylor was sitting on the bed watching Danny wash his face in the bathroom. Jerry had been right – the room was getting pretty toasty. She had disposed of her sweater, and was extremely grateful that she had decided to wear shorts. She had resorted to clipping her hair back with a pen, but she was still hot. Danny had also lost his shirt, and was walking around in just a wife-beater and his jeans – if it got any hotter, Taylor was pretty certain they would end up walking around in their underwear.

Next to her, Danny's phone started ringing.

"Yo, detective, you alright?" Jerry called.

"Yeah, I'm good, thanks," said Danny as he put his glasses back on and walked back into the bedroom.

"I think your phone's ringing," said Jerry.

"Yeah, I know," Danny told him, as he took it off of Taylor, who was holding it out for him.

"You not gonna answer it?"

"It's my brother. Got enough problems for one day."

"You don't get on with him?" asked Taylor, trying to strike up conversation.

"We used to," Danny answered, shortly.

Taylor sighed, "Sorry, I don't want to pry."

Danny frowned, "So you say your dad was in the Navy?"

"Yeah, no jokes, thanks," she added with a small smile.

"And your mother is Italian?" Danny cocked his head, looking at Taylor as she nodded affirmatively.. "You kinda look Italian – what with the dark hair and eyes."

"I get told all the time I look like my mother," Taylor told him.

"Can you speak Italian?" Danny asked her, curious.

"Yeah, but not around my dad," Taylor replied. She lay back on the bed and stared up at the pale grey ceiling.

"Your dad doesn't like you talking in Italian?" Danny asked in surprise.

Taylor shrugged. "He met my mother when he was stationed out in Sicily, and like every family who lived in her village at the time, they had connections to the mob. Well, that's dad's story, anyway. Mamma says she was a poor farmer's daughter and a handsome knight came and rescued her. I don't real know what the truth it. I suspect it's somewhere in between the two. I do know all her family is dead now, and when she left, they were on good terms, but my dad says that when she speaks Italian it reminds him of who she was. So, my mom taught me, but she never let me speak it around my dad. Which wasn't that hard considering he was away for most of the year, anyway."

"Sounds rough."

"Not really. Thanks to Maddy, I can speak some Spanish too, although I understand it better than I can speak it. Her mother was from Cuba." Taylor froze and glanced at her watch. It was already after 1. She swore and grabbed her cell from her pocket, calling the hospital. A minute later, after a short conversation, she hung up, threw the phone behind her on the bed, and flung herself backwards.

"Something wrong?" Danny asked her, coming to sit next to her.

"I finally managed to get Maddy to agree to stay at mine, but because I'm stuck in here, and couldn't pick her up, apparently her no-good abusive boyfriend picked her up instead."

Danny looked down at her, and placed a hand on her thigh, "C'mon. Let's process Hunter's clothes – there's nothing you can do until you get out of her, so take your mind off it."

. . .

"Hey Danny, I'm back," came Stella's voice through the monitor. "What have you got?"

"We think we've found some trace," Danny told her. "It looks smeared. Like it could have been deposited in a scuffle."

"Ok, then we're gonna test it," Stella told them.

Danny looked at Taylor, "With what?"

"Look around," Stella told them, "Improvise."

"The word of the day – improvise," Danny muttered to Taylor as he helped her to her feet. "You wanna go find what you can from the supplies."

Taylor nodded, and went back to the shelves. She was about to grab a few items when she noticed the fridge. Feeling hungry, she opened it. And instantly lost her appetite. Inside it, inside a jar, was an ear. Suppressing the urge to vomit, she picked it up and carried it in for Danny.

"Guess what Taylor found?" he asked Stella, taking the jar off her and holding it up for Stella to see.

"What? What'd ya find?" She peered at the screen. "Is that an ear?"

"Yeah. Belonged to Hunter's brother, Joshua. Twenty years ago he was taken from the house in the middle of the night. Hunter was sleeping five feet away. Kidnappers sent back the ear as proof of life. Parent's paid the ransom, but the kid was still killed. Few years later, the parents died in a plane crash. Left him all alone. Maybe the trace on his clothes will tell us something."

He left the ear with Taylor, who was holding it at arm's length with a creeped out expression on her face. Minutes later, Danny returned, his arms full of various chemicals and items. Taylor stood transfixed as he began tearing at fabric, sticking it to a piece of glass he cut to size with another razor blade, and dabbing the trace on it, before sitting it in a cup of chemicals and waiting for it to soak up. She actually had no idea what he was doing, and for some reason, didn't want to ask.

Finally, the 'experiment' was complete – not that Taylor could tell how Danny knew that. Danny pulled the fabric strips out of the chemicals and lined it up with a pad of legal paper. "Alright," Danny shouted over to Stella, who had been patiently waiting at her laptop. "I've got seven lines on the notepad for the unknown, and ten lines for the solvent."

"That means our ratio is 0.7," Stella called back, "That's our RF value."

"The solvent is isopropyl alcohol."

Stella typed away on her computer, "Okay, the mystery stain is, nicotine."

"You managed to find that out by dunking the trace in a random chemical?" asked Taylor in disbelief. "That's incredible."

"Don't ya just wish you'd done a chemistry degree?" Danny asked, although looking quite proud.

Taylor shook her head. "No thank you. I'll leave that to people like you."

"Alright, so, who do we like so far that smokes?" Danny called over to Stella.

"Dr Penn."

. . .

Another couple of hours had passed, and Taylor was lying on the bed with her camisole rolled up as far as she could decently get it, in order to try and stay cool. Next to her lay Danny, both of whom were trying not to move too much. Not only had the temperature risen another couple of degrees, the lights were beginning to flicker too.

Danny's phone had been ringing on and off, and he still had yet to answer it. Taylor wasn't going to press him any further – it wasn't her business whether or not he spoke to his brother. She had tried ringing Maddy a few times, but it always went straight to the answer phone - something, Taylor was semi-convinced was Pete's doing.

The body was also beginning to smell. Then again, Taylor and Danny were also getting sweaty, and not smelling too brilliant either.

Taylor's phone rang, and she leapt up, over Danny, (ignoring his protests as she lay over him) and grabbed it, hoping it was Maddy. It wasn't. It was her editor. She sighed and flicked her phone open, "Hi Alex."

"_Taylor, you know I don't push you for your article right?_"

Taylor slumped back onto the bed, lying back down next to Danny, "Yes?"

"_It's 4, Taylor. I know you like cutting it short, but you do remember that I wanted to proof-read it today, and that I have my daughter's ballet recital later this evening?_"

Taylor shut her eyes and took a deep breath, "About that, Alex. I, uh, I've been trapped in a panic room for the past six hours."

"_And you're telling me this, because?_"

"Because my computer's not with me."

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. "_And when do you expect to be out of this panic room?_" Alex asked, sounding incredibly annoyed.

"Um… another seven or so hours, if I'm lucky." The phone went silent. Taylor took it away from her ear and looked at it – the battery had gone dead. "Oh, no," she groaned, dropping it on the bed beside her.

"You alright?" Danny asked her.

"Yeah," Taylor sighed. "Not so sure about my job, though." The lights were flickering again.

Danny sighed and got to his feet, walking over to the body and sitting down besides it.

"Hey," said Stella, appearing on the monitor. "How are you guys holding out?"

Taylor gave a non-committal shrug from the bed.

"Well, I've got a body that's degrading, and blood that's starting to clot," said Danny from his position on the floor, sticking a gloved hand in the blood.

"Well, maybe what he was taking wasn't an anti-depressant," Stella suggested, referring to the clotting blood.

"Well, maybe if he was off his meds, he killed himself," said Danny. Although her eyes were closed, Taylor felt the room go cold – Hunter had turned up. "Jerry, I don't know what you did about the air in here, but keep it like that," said Danny, taking in a deep breath.

"It wasn't me," said Hunter.

"Then who was it?" Danny asked, thinking it was Jerry who replied.

"I didn't say anything," said Jerry peering into the monitor.

"Are you guys alright in there?" Stella asked.

"I think that being trapped in here with this crazy suicide victim is turning me a little crazy," Danny muttered.

"It wasn't me," repeated Hunter.

"You just told me that, Jerry," said Danny, getting slightly aggravated.

"Danny," said Stella, "Jerry hasn't said anything."

"It was Hunter, Danny," Taylor explained. "He's trying to tell you he didn't commit suicide." She had rolled over onto her stomach and was finding the concept that Danny was hearing voices slightly amusing.

Danny shook his head, as though trying to dislodge something inside. "I have been in here far too long," he muttered, before taking his glasses of and rubbing his face.

. . .

There was a small pop at the door, and Danny and Taylor turned around, simultaneously to see Jerry peering through an hole, no bigger than an inch in diameter. "Hello, can you see me?" Jerry called through the hole.

"Yeah, you look beautiful," said Danny, "Now get me outta here."

Jerry smiled, "A couple more of these, and then we will be able to start cutting you a new door."

"A couple more!" Taylor exclaimed, far from happy. It had taken hours just to cut that one small hole.

"Hey guys, stay with me," Stella said, again appearing at the monitor. "We're getting closer, alright. Remember that blue trace we found when we first arrived? Send it through."

Danny got to his feet and grabbed a q-tip, wrapped it in a sheet of paper and sent it through the small hole, "I'm sending it through; here it comes."

"Got it."

Taylor got up and stretched, making her way over to the monitor, just in time to see Flack arrive. "Making progress?" Flack asked Danny.

"Yeah, crime stopper," Danny replied. "Do me a favour, take a break and run to Ray's, grab me a slice – extra pepperoni. Bring it back," he told the detective. "Just fold it up and slide it right through. Alright?"

"Oh, no," said Taylor, as her stomach let out a rather loud grumble. "Forget about the slice and grab a box. We'll wait for you to pass it through, slice by slice, right, Danny?"

Danny nodded, "Oh yeah."

"That's no way to treat good pizza, you two," he told them with a grin. He turned to Stella. "I checked on Hagler and Dr Penn. Alibis check out." He pointed to Stella's laptop monitor. "What have you got there?"

"Surfactant and hypochloride," Stella told him.

"And for those of us with just a high school diploma?" Flack asked her, blankly.

Stella gave him a smile. "Soap and bleach – laundry detergent."

As Stella and Flack walked away from the panic room door, Taylor turned to Danny. "I take it that means we're not getting pizza?"


	23. Another Believer

**Chapter 22: **

Yet more hours had passed, and Taylor and Danny were bored. They had exhausted _I Spy_. Danny had won, mainly because he was using the chemical names of the chemicals, rather than just, 'bleach', like Taylor was using.

Danny had since moved from the bed and was pacing agitatedly up and down. Stella had told them that they had found the housekeeper's uniform halfway through a wash cycle. When Jerry had cut the power to the panic room. it had also cut the power to the rest of the apartment and stopped the washing machine. She and Flack had taken the housekeeper in for questioning. Danny stopped and peered at something on the floor.

"What have you got?" Taylor asked him, curiously. She'd had nothing better to do than watch him pace back and forth.

"Blood," he told her. "Pass me my phone, will you?" Taylor rolled over and grabbed his Razr and threw it to him. He flicked it open. "Hey, my phone's dying – I got half a bar," he said quickly, not giving the other person a chance to speak. "…Nice, nice, nice. But I'm looking at what seems to be a secondary blood donor. If the housekeeper doesn't have a cut on her body, she might have a partner." He hung up just as his phone died on him.

"What was that?" Taylor asked, frowning.

"Stella said the housekeeper is under arrest, but this blood drop here hasn't come from the vic, which means it came from the killer. And if Linda doesn't have a scratch on her, that means it someone else helped her."

"You're listening to Hunter?" Taylor asked, a small grin forming.

Danny rolled his eyes. "No, I'm listening to the evidence."

"Uh-huh," she smiled at him. "I think Hunter Hudson committed suicide," she said, loudly. The room went cold, and Hunter appeared in the corner.

"It wasn't me."

Danny jumped and looked towards the direction the voice was coming from, and shook his head violently. He hurried over to the monitor. "Jerry?"

"Yo!"

"Do me a favour and get me outta here," Danny begged.

"I'm trying, pal," Jerry responded.

"C'mon. My partner's got a suspect in custody right now," he added, walking towards the bathroom in frustration. "It's going down, and I'm stuck in here, man."

"Yeah, it won't be long now, I promise," Jerry assured him.

Taylor was stood between Danny and the door, still smiling about him hearing the ghost, when the door popped open behind her. Both she and Danny spun around to see Jerry walking in through the doorway. "Thank you, Jerry!" Taylor exclaimed, happily.

"What are you doing, man?" Danny cried, startling Taylor. Taylor glanced back at him, then back to Jerry. She hadn't noticed it before, but Jerry was holding a gun and it was now pointing at her and Danny. "What are you doing?" repeated Danny.

"I want you to call your partner and tell her to let Linda go," Jerry instructed Danny, switching the gun between him and Taylor.

Taylor was frozen to the spot, staring at the barrel of the gun.

"It's you?" Danny was shouting in disbelief. "It was you, huh?"

"Stop moving!" Jerry shouted back. "Stop moving!"

"You could open this door the whole time?" Danny cried. He was pacing back and forth, which, had Taylor been able to concentrate, would have thought was stupid, considering Jerry had a gun. Instead she was stood still, frozen to the spot, and not in any state to be thinking about anything else.

"Stop moving! Stop!" Jerry yelled.

Danny pointed to a bandage on Jerry's arm (again, Taylor hadn't noticed it), "How did you get that cut?" he demanded. "Did he fight back? He fought back, didn't he?"

"Let me tell you something," said Jerry. "This whack job has been wanting to kill himself for years. Years! Come time, he couldn't do it." He pointed the gun at Danny and took a step forward. "Stop moving!"

"Take it easy!" Taylor managed to stumble out.

Jerry ignored her and threw his phone at Danny. "Pick up the phone! Call your partner!"

Danny looked at Jerry, the gun, and Taylor, "Alright!"

From outside, Stella appeared, gun drawn and aimed at Jerry. "Partner's right here!" she yelled.

Taylor barely had time to process her presence before Jerry had moved, grabbed Taylor, and was pointing the gun at her head, keeping her between him, and Danny and Stella.

"Freeze!" Flack yelled, only milliseconds behind Stella.

The next happened so quickly that for Taylor it was pretty much a blur – both metaphorically, and physically. "Now, Stella!" yelled Danny. Danny lunged for one of the cups of chemicals and threw it at Jerry. Taylor barely managed to shut her eyes in time as the liquid went flying through the air at her. As it made contact with Jerry – and her – he threw her to the side, and she went flying. As Taylor was thrown, Stella fired at Jerry, hitting him in the arm, causing him to drop his gun and fall to the floor himself. The three detectives went straight for him.

While Jerry was cuffed, Flack darted over to Taylor, helping her into a sitting position, "You alright?" he asked her, seeing her clutching at her eye.

Taylor shook her head,. "It burns," she moaned.

. . .

Taylor was in the back of the ambulance, finally starting to be able to see again. She was wearing an eye-patch over her left eye, and was actually listening to instructions that she should continue to wash her eye out for the next twelve hours with the solution the paramedic had given her. As soon as the medic told her she could, she leapt out of the bus and walked straight into Danny.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, eyeing the eye-patch.

"I will be, thanks," she told him.

"You need a ride home?" he offered.

"No, thanks. I'm going to the paper," she explained. "And I'm going to try and salvage my job."

"Let me give you a ride," he insisted, leading her to his car before she had the chance to object. "I called my brother," he told her as they headed to her destination.

"And is it the bad news you're expecting?" Taylor asked, turning her head completely so she could see him.

"I dunno," Danny shrugged. "I'm going to meet him for drinks in a bit."

He pulled up outside the building, "I'll wait here for you – make sure you get home alright."

Taylor shook her head. "Thanks, Danny, but I may be a while. You don't have to wait."

"I know I don't," he told her. "But I'm going to. Besides, knowing you, you'll get kidnapped by a bunch of pirates thinking you are their long lost first mate, or something," he grinned.

Taylor smiled her thanks and darted up into the building. Alex was there, reading some papers – she knew he would be – he practically lived at the office since his divorce. "What the hell happened to you?" he asked, looking up at her as she entered.

"I was stuck in a panic room with a cadaver, and then the guy that killed him pulled a gun on me," Taylor quickly explained.

Alex looked dubious. "And your eye ended up in an eye-patch, how?"

"Some random chemical I have never heard of, courtesy of the CSI who I was locked in the panic room with," Taylor shrugged.

Alex settled back into his chair. "You still missed your deadline, and by all rights, I should fire you, if not put you on probation, for that-"

"Alex, I was trapped in a room," Taylor interrupted, pleading.

"Not even the fact you have just won an award for this paper should have stopped me from doing that."

Taylor cocked her head at him, "An award?" she repeated in surprise.

"For the three-edition spread on the Henry Darius case."

Taylor's mouth dropped open in shock. She had written the columns not long after Darius' preliminary trials had been held – after she'd gained Mac's consent, of course. "I won an award?" she asked again, still unable to believe it.

"Yes, and despite that, I should still have you suspended, especially after that poor excuse of being trapped in a panic room. However, I received a phone call from a Mr Messer."

Taylor frowned, "Danny called?"

"Yes," nodded Alex. "He explained how you were shadowing him for a little inside knowledge for your column, but he managed to lock you both in a panic room, and therefore it was actually his fault and not your that you couldn't hand in your column in time. However, in future, I wish you'd let me know when you are working with the police, in any way. As it stands, I managed to find an unpublished piece you had given me a while back, and ran that. Now, I want your column in to me by four tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, go home and sort that eye out."

Taylor gave him a nod and a small smile, before leaving, still revelling in the fact she had won an award, and that Danny had lied for her.

"How did it go?" Danny asked her, as she came out of the building. He was stood leaning against his car, waiting for her.

Taylor ran up to him, and threw her arms around him, planting a big kiss on his cheek, "I love you so much," she told him. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"DANIEL MESSER?!"

With her arms still around his neck, Taylor and Danny turned their heads to find a leggy redhead glaring at them. "Cindy?"

Taylor dropped her arms and jumped away.

"I knew there was someone else!" squealed Cindy. "I knew it! Well, it's over!" she practically screamed. Cindy walked up to Danny and slapped him, before storming off.

"Oh my God!" Taylor exclaimed. "I am so sorry, Danny. Do you want me to go after her, tell her she has it wrong?"

Danny shrugged, rubbing his face. "Nah, don't worry. She talked too much anyway."

"But, Danny…"

"Nah, seriously. She was half-right anyway." Before Taylor could ask him who he was referring to, he changed the subject. "There was someone else in that room, wasn't there?" he asked her quietly, looking at the floor, "Besides you, me and a body, I mean."

"Yeah," she agreed quietly.

"Hunter."

Taylor nodded.

Danny stared intently at her, then gave her a small nod. "Come on, let's get you back. I have to meet Louie, soon."

Taylor smiled. "No, don't worry. I live around the corner. You go, or you'll be late."

Danny smiled at her and got in his car. Taylor watched him as he drove off, and then turned around, coming face to face with a white-clad ghost of Hunter, now minus the gaping neck wound. "Thank you."

"No, thank you. I now have another CSI on my side," Taylor told him gratefully.

Hunter nodded. "There is a plan underway."

Taylor frowned, "Come again?"

"The Powers That Be have a plan. You won't like it, but it must be done. Try not to get too upset. Everything happens for a reason, and you will have somebody on your side."

Before Taylor could ask him what he was talking about, he disappeared, leaving her staring at a lamp post.


	24. Over-Dressed For The Subway

**Chapter 23: Over-Dressed For The Subway**

Taylor had just gotten back from a meeting with Alex, and flopped down on the couch, pulling out her cell phone. "Hey, Lindsay."

_"Hi, Taylor. What's up?"_

"How much have you managed to get out and see the city?"

_"Well, in all honesty, not much – all I have seen has been on cases. Why?"_ Lindsay asked her.

"Well, I have a friend in the Arts section in our paper, and he got free tickets to see Don Giovanni, but he can't make it so he gave them me. Are you interested?" Taylor asked her.

_"Have you asked Maddy?"_

Although Taylor had successfully managed to convince Maddy to come and stay at hers again, after she had explained the reason she didn't get her from the hospital was because she had been trapped in a room with Danny, when Taylor had gone into the Crime Lab to help a ghost – it was the sister – Pete had come around and convinced Maddy that he was a changed man. So Maddy had gone by the time Taylor had come back.

"Maddy and Pete are busy this evening," Taylor responded, shortly.

"_Oh, well, sure, but I'm on call, so I may have to leave – I may never turn up,_" Lindsay said.

"Lindsay, with the ghosts popping up left right and centre, I never know when I'm on call," Taylor joked. She regretted it instantly.

"_What time, and what should I wear?_" Lindsay asked, ignoring the statement.

Taylor let out an inward sigh. "8pm, and dress nice. Dress and heels, type of thing."

. . .

"You looked like you understand it?" Lindsay asked, turning to face her as the house lights came up for the interval.

"My mother's from Sicily," Taylor explained. "But then again, I don't think you need to understand the language to understand the opera."

"I never used to think that was the case, and I always though Julia Roberts was lying in Pretty Woman, but it's true," Lindsay agreed. The two of them got up and headed for the bar, both opting for a coke.

"Your dress is really nice," Taylor told Lindsay – green really suited her. "It sounds like a line that a guy should be using, but it really brings out your eyes. It's a shame it's wasted on me."

Lindsay laughed. "I only have the one dress, and it probably won't get worn for a long time now. I don't manage to get out much."

"Well, speaking of getting out," said Taylor. "I won an award for the articles I wrote about Darius."

"Congratulations!" exclaimed Lindsay, happy for her friend.

"Thank you," Taylor smiled. "The paper is holding a party, well, more of a ball, for me. Which is kind of embarrassing, but on the same note, it's a good excuse to party. It's going to be a big event, according to Alex – he's my editor. He gave it over to Sasha in PR, and that girl can plan a party. From what I can gather, there will be a few important people – like the chief of police and the commissioner – I'm making the state of crime look good…" Taylor laughed, "I'm sorry, I'm running away with myself. The point is, would you like to come?"

"I would love to," Lindsay agreed with a grin.

"Don't worry about the dress or even your hair and make-up. My colleague Gary from the fashion section has a few designer dresses we can borrow."

Lindsay's mouth dropped open. "Are you kidding?"

Taylor shook her head. "And if we're lucky, he's going to talk to his ex, who works in Tiffany's, and see if he will let him borrow some jewellery for the evening too."

Lindsay leant over and gave her a hug. "It doesn't seem it with the job I do, but I am a girly girl at heart. You have just fulfilled one of my dreams."

"Yeah," chuckled Taylor. "Maddy tells me that all the time. I have some great connections. You should wait until the football season kicks off," she told her, as the lights dimmed. Lindsay grinned.

They were half an hour into the performance when Lindsay's phone went off. She silenced it quickly, reddening from the stares of the other people in their balcony, and leant over to Taylor. "I'm not even checking who that's from. I know the answer already," she whispered, "Thank you so much for inviting me. I'll give you a call later." She disappeared quickly, leaving Taylor to watch the end by herself.

Except, ten minutes after Lindsay had left, she was replaced by a filthy looking ghost who looked like a college student. Taylor sighed. "You could have appeared ten minutes ago when Lindsay was still here – saved me a cab fare," she whispered, ignoring the strange looks which were being sent to her from the others near her.

"Help me."

Taking one last glimpse at the stage, Taylor got up, and left.

. . .

Taylor was walking to the Crime Lab when the ghost appeared again, this time showing her a map of the subway lines. It pointed to a stop, said "help me," and then disappeared. Taylor sighed. Things would be much simpler if they just told her where they were and who killed them, instead of showing her random things accompanied by the most unhelpful phrases.

She was close to the subway stop and headed in that direction. By the time she got there, the area was cordoned off. However, she arrived only a few minutes after Lindsay, who was currently showing her badge to an officer so she could enter the crime scene. "Lindsay!"

Lindsay stopped and turned around. "What are you doing here?"

"A ghost," Taylor sighed.

"Taylor…"

"Come on, Lindsay. You know as well as I do that I don't mix too well with dead bodies. And besides," she added. "I was enjoying the opera – I'm hardly going to walk out of it unless I had to."

Lindsay sighed and turned to the officer. "She's with me."

The officer nodded and held the tape up for her to duck under. She followed Lindsay onto the platform and down onto the tracks. To say it was freezing down there was an understatement. When Taylor had left her apartment, she had gone straight to a taxi and then straight into the opera house, and even then it had still been pleasant – she hadn't even bothered with a coat, unlike Lindsay who was currently wearing one.

She followed Lindsay a few steps behind, trying to keep her balance on the stones in her heels, to where Danny and Mac were bent over a body. The same one who's spirit had been to visit her.

Danny got to his feet the moment he spotted Lindsay. "Well, hello Miss Monroe," he greeted Lindsay with a smile on his face. "Wow, you clean up nice. You been to the mayor's party also?"

Taylor glanced over at Mac who, unlike Danny, had actually spotted her. He gave her a look which matched the one she was giving him – that both she and him were perfectly aware of the looks that Danny and Lindsay were giving each other.

"I was at the opera," Lindsay told him with a smile.

"I am hanging out with all the wrong people, you know that?" he said to Mac, before noticing Taylor stood to one side. He looked her up and down. "You're another one that should wear a dress more often. What were you doing? Party with the stars?"

Taylor smiled at him. "I was also at the opera. Next time I get tickets, you can have one, if you like?"

"Nah, not my thing," he frowned, "So, why are you here?" He glanced around, looking for some evidence of something else down there. Taylor caught his look and nodded.

"So this is our subway surfer?" said Lindsay, crouching down besides the body, not noticing the silent conversation Taylor and Danny were holding.

Mac nodded. "As far as I can tell, he didn't fall from the top of the subway car. There are no injuries consistent with a fall from that height at that speed."

"No, he definitely didn't fall," agreed Taylor. Mac and Lindsay looked over at her. "His ghost appeared. Why would he appear if it was an accident?"

Danny nodded, whilst Lindsay and Mac looked at each other – both still not accepting the fact that Taylor could see ghosts.

"What about the bruising?" Lindsay continued. "It looks like it was caused by a significant impact – it wouldn't have happened if the body was dragged here and dumped."

"The scapula and the ribs aren't broken. The clavicle didn't collapse, which means he didn't bounce, flip, or ricochet; nothing," Mac informed her. Taylor frowned. It wasn't pretty to imagine someone falling from a moving train. "When he landed," Mac continued, "He stayed put. All inconsistent with a fall from a moving train."

"So, he was subway surfing, but he didn't die doing it," frowned Lindsay.

"Well, we're too far away from the station for him to have fallen from the platform, and surely the body would have been… cut up… or something, if it was dragged," offered Taylor, feeling slightly ill, yet exceedingly grateful she wasn't encountering the body in several pieces.

Danny nodded. "Push, fell, thrown, whatever – this guy came off the train in front of mine. So someone on that train must have seen something."

Mac looked at his two CSIs. "I'll start with the body. You two start with the person who watches everyone get off and on the train." He stood up and turned to face Taylor. "I assume," he said after a long pause, "You think you can help us with this?"

Taylor nodded.

Mac sighed. "Alright. This kid is only young. I owe it to his parents to find out what happened to him. You're going to come with me." He frowned. "You remember what you can and cannot do?"

"I stand back and let you work, without touching anything," Taylor recited. Sometimes Mac made her feel like a small child, and yet, she was still anxious to please him, even though she didn't really have to.

Mac nodded. "Very well."


	25. Two Ghosts For The Price Of One

**Chapter 24: Two Ghosts For The Price Of One**

Taylor was waiting in the morgue, still in her dress, waiting for someone to appear. Finally, Mac – now changed out of his tuxedo – and Sid arrived.

"And to what honour do I owe a beauty like in a dress like that, down here?" Sid asked her. "Or are you to see our younger coroner?"

Taylor smiled, "I was at the opera, and maybe later."

"She's helping out on a case," Mac told Sid.

"Ah, well, in that case, come over here." He ushered the two of them over to the table the body was lying on, and pulled back the sheet. He grabbed a pair of tweezers and started removing something from the victim's head wound. "Wood splinter from your vic's forehead," he said, handing the piece over to Mac. "And there's more where this came from. The splinters entered the skin at a sideways angle. My guess is with a wooden stick, or a club." He held an imaginary club and mimicked smacking it over the body's head. "Pow! Blow was fatal."

Taylor blanched. "I really didn't need a replay, Sid," she muttered.

"He died instantly?" asked Mac.

Sid shook his head. "No, it could have taken a few hours. He suffered significant swelling to the frontal lobe then flat-lined. Here, let's roll him." He and Mac turned the body over to reveal scratch marks on his back. "The scratches are scabbed over and a couple of days old."

"Looks like a special someone left her mark," smirked Taylor.

"Sounds like experience," said Sid, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Sid!" exclaimed Taylor in mock outrage.

Mac sent a disapproving look at the coroner, who, in turn, cleared his throat, and continued with his findings. "This story isn't over." He held up the vic's hand to show a gaping wound. Taylor could feel her stomach churning again – she could see light through the hole. "At first glance, it looked like a compound fracture. I pulled this from his hand."

Mac took the item Sid offered him. "Sharks tooth. Coney Island trinket, or real?"

"I'm not sure," shrugged Sid. "But it took a whole lot of force to drive it through his hand. And that's just the first course of our seafood buffet. Wanna go fishing?"

Taylor was now as white as she could possibly go. "Do I really want to know?" she asked.

Instead of getting an answer, Sid pointed to a screen behind, with an x-ray on it. Right where the stomach was, were several tiny fishes. Taylor glanced back down at the vic, just in time to see Sid's hand go diving into the stomach and pull out a fish. Taylor felt her stomach churn again, as her face turned from white to green.

"Until they're cleaned up, it's going to be hard to determine species. There's a lot of superficial damage from the stomach acids," said Mac, taking the fish off him.

Sid grabbed a ladle and began spooning the stomach contents into a dish. "I'll send this toxic stew over to Adam to analyse. I estimate the fish were ingested less than 45minutes prior to you vic's death. They were alive when he swallowed them, but they didn't last very long."

"Neither did he," said Mac.

Taylor took one last look at the milky looking liquid Sid was waving around, and hitched up her dress before bolting out of the morgue to the bathroom.

"Neither did she," quipped Sid.

. . .

"The powers that be have a plan," she mumbled to herself as she washed her face. "Of course they have a plan. I just don't understand why it has to involve me looking at body parts." She looked up at the ceiling. "I don't like this, you know?" she shouted to the empty room. She threw her paper towel into the trash can and turned around, to find another ghost staring at her.

Unlike the last one, Randy, this one was probably a good ten years older. He was wearing a suit, and had marks around his neck – he had been hung. "Help me," he rasped.

Taylor frowned. Was this going to be another serial killer? The ghost held up a paper cup of coffee, and disappeared. Taylor sighed, and headed back to the morgue, hoping to catch Mac. He wasn't there, but Stella was.

"Hey Taylor, nice dress," she complimented her.

"I was at the opera with Lindsay when a ghost decided to pay a visit," Taylor explained. She let out a yawn. "Is Mac around? I have another ghost for him."

Stella shook her head. "He went upstairs a few minutes ago – you just missed him."

"Sorry for the delay. QT and I were busy necking," Sid said, as he walked into the room before Taylor had a chance to disappear.

"Come again?" asked Stella, in horror.

"Necking – looking at his neck. You don't think I'd kiss a corpse, do you?" Sid asked her with a slightly amused, and slightly horrified, tone of voice.

"No, no. Of course not," said Stella hurriedly.

Taylor had been about to leave, but at that comment, stopped and did a double take. "I'm sorry? That's disgusting."

"I agree," said Sid.

"As long as we got that straight," muttered Taylor.

"So, Sid, cause of death?" asked Stella as Sid pulled back the sheet from Stella's victim.

Taylor stopped and glanced over, "A second case?!" she exclaimed in disbelief.

Sid looked over and gave her a puzzled look. "This is New York, dear. We don't just deal with one body a night."

"I know, but…" She trailed off – perhaps it would be better to let Sid assume that she was that naïve.

"Hey, Sid?"

The three of them looked over to the door, where Marty was stood. "You have a phone call."

Sid nodded. "Do you want to take over the COD for me?"

Marty nodded and replaced Sid, who quickly left. "Ghost?" Marty asked Taylor as he pulled on some gloves.

"Two of them," muttered Taylor. "Separate cases."

"Really?"

"Do you know, then?" asked Stella, in surprise.

Marty looked over at Taylor, and then at Stella. "Yeah," he told her, shortly. "Cause of death, asphyxiation. However, not from hanging out of a forty story window. Petechiae in both eyes, but haemorrhaging in the ligature on the neck."

"And for the person who doesn't work in a crime lab?" Taylor asked wearily.

"That seems a little debateable these days," said Stella.

"Tell me about it," said Marty. "You're here more than I am."

"Well, if you stopped bunking off to watch sports, you'd fare a bit better," muttered Taylor.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," said Stella, as Marty sent Taylor a glare. "So his heart stopped pumping blood before he was hung," she said, to both explain to Taylor, and to change the subject.

"Strange thing is, he was strangled at some point, prior to his death," continued Marty, after a final glare at Taylor. "See the bruising around his neck?" he asked, pointing. "The noose didn't make these marks – these are fingernail marks and dug into the neck. Lucky for us, the killer had something chalky underneath the nails."

"Right, let's run a mass spec on that; see what our killer had his hands on, besides QT Hammer's neck," Stella said, nodding.

"There's something green in his throat," Marty told them, opening QT's mouth.

"Do I really wanna look?" muttered Taylor.

"Evidence knows no bounds," said Marty, handing her a torch. "Hold that, yeah, perfect, perfect."

"Green fibres," said Stella, examining the item as Marty held it up for her.

"My guess is the killer suffocated him with something green. Pillow, towel, handkerchief."

"Coffee," Taylor corrected them.

"Coffee?"

Taylor nodded, "QT came to visit, and he had coffee."

"Alright," said Stella, "Lets run a tox. This case just went from suicide to murder."

She disappeared to out of the morgue, leaving Taylor, Marty, and a dead body. Marty cocked his eyebrow at her. "Life is so much easier when you have someone who believes you," she smiled.

"Bunking off?" Marty asked her, slowly.

Taylor arched her eyebrows back at him. "I dare you to try and deny it." Marty stared at her. "What?" asked Taylor suspiciously. The next thing she knew, Marty had charged around from the other side of the table, locked her against him with one arm, and was using his free one to tickle her. Taylor, who was extremely ticklish, squealed loudly.

"Ahem!"

Marty and Taylor froze, and found Sid stood in the doorway watching them. Marty dropped Taylor, and she hurriedly straightened her dress, whilst trying to stop laughing. "I um… I should… erm, yeah. I'm going to go find Mac," she stammered, before dashing out of the door.

Sid smiled at Marty, "You and the journalist, huh?"

Marty shrugged, "I don't know," he responded, watching Taylor's retreating figure.


	26. Interviewing Suspects

**Chapter 25: Interviewing Suspects**

Taylor left the morgue and was on her way up the stairs when she bumped into Danny. "You ever gonna get out of that dress?" he asked her.

"I have been in the morgue all night," Taylor yawned. "I'm going to go…" she trailed off as the stairwell dropped a couple of degrees.

Danny stopped and turned around to look in the direction she was staring. "Is he here?"

Taylor turned to look at him. "You can't feel the cold?"

Danny shook his head. "You have the same expression on your face as you do when you've, well, seen a ghost."

"He's over there," said Taylor, pointing at the ghost. "He's holding a subway map and pointing to a spot on it."

"So, you're telling me that there's something on that car we missed?"

Taylor shrugged, "I don't know. But it's important to him."

"You do realise how crazy this is, don't you? Montana spent the entire night telling me I was crazy," he muttered.

"Every time a ghost appears, I think I'm crazy," Taylor sighed. "But apparently, the Powers That Be, have a plan for me."

"The Powers That Be?" Danny repeated in confusion.

"Not a clue," she told him with a shrug. "I should apparently be expecting something I won't be expecting. And I won't like it."

Danny screwed his face up. "Was that supposed to make sense?"

"Exactly," she sighed.

"Well, come Drew. You can come to back to the train with me and Monroe," Danny told her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

Taylor glanced up at him. "Do I need to point out that I'm still in a dress?"

Danny shrugged. "Your point being?"

"Never mind," Taylor told him, shaking her head. "Come on, let's go."

. . .

"I got blood and a load of footprints up here. How you doin'?" Danny was standing on the ladder of the subway car, shining his torch over the roof. Lindsay was in the car, examining that, and Taylor was standing on the platform. She was freezing, despite borrowing Danny's CSI jacket, as she waited in case Randy decided to appear and give them some other information.

"Typical New York City subway car," Lindsay shouted back out to Danny. "A million fingerprints and a smorgasbord of trace."

"I got evidence of two surfers up here," Danny told them as he climbed down from off the top of the subway car. "And it looks like they both made it down from the roof." He made his way inside. "It looks like Mac was right, Monroe – they headed down and back inside the train."

Lindsay shone her light on something Taylor couldn't see from here she was. "I've got medium velocity blood splatter. Looks like we may have found our primary crime scene."

"Alright, then all we gotta do is find our secondary surfer."

"Can I suggest something?" asked Taylor.

"Is this coming from your ghost?" Lindsay asked her, scepticism lining her voice.

"No, this is coming from a once college student," Taylor sighed. "I mean, the victim is a college student, right? Well, most students don't go out by themselves," she shrugged. "Why don't you ask his roommate who his friends are – who he went out with?"

Danny looked at her and grinned. "Well, well, well, Drew. You're turning into one little investigator there."

. . .

Thirty minutes later, and still wearing her dress (which was earning her a plenitude of interesting looks); Taylor was outside the dorm room that had belonged to Randy Williams with Danny and Lindsay. Danny knocked loudly on the door.

"Okay," a female shouted from within. Danny knocked again. "Chill out!" The door opened and girl wearing only a small t-shirt and a pair of panties, was stood in the doorway, giving Danny an appreciative once over. What Taylor found somewhat amusing, was the irritated look Lindsay had.

Lindsay cleared her throat, and Danny snapped back into life, leaving Taylor to try and hide her smile with her hand. "We're looking for Perry Lohmann," said Danny. "Randy Williams' roommate," he added as he flashed his badge.

"What's happened?" the girl asked him.

Lindsay smiled at her. "That's what we're here to find out."

"You mind if we come in? Thank you," said Danny, not giving her a chance to answer. "Perry Lohmann, wake up." he said loudly, making his way over to a bed where Perry lay, tied up. "Subway surfer, we gotta talk." Perry untied his right arm. "You're a lucky boy," smirked Danny, flicking the skimpy underwear which was being used to tie him up.

"Can I use the bathroom," Perry groaned, "I'm a little hung over."

"If you're quick," Danny told him.

"You can have a seat," Lindsay told the girl, who sat down on the other bed,

Danny lifted up a piece of pizza that was lying on the floor, pulling a face. "I like what you did with the place."

Taylor moved out of the way to let Perry enter the bathroom she was stood in front of. He gave her a shifty look, and then suddenly took off. Lindsay was after him in a second, followed closely by Taylor and Danny. The three of them ducked underneath a phone cord as they chased after Perry. Just ahead of her, Lindsay grabbed a hold of his shirt, but Perry managed to twist himself out of it, leaving Lindsay with the shirt. Not missing a beat, Lindsay continued after him – until he launched a water cooler container at her.

She dodged out of the way, and Taylor launched herself at him, sending him to the floor. As she spun out of the way Danny leapt onto him and pinned his arms behind him. "Don't move," he ordered the wriggling body.

"What the hell did I do?" Perry cried.

Danny looked up at the Lindsay and Taylor. "Damn it, you women put me to shame."

. . .

"I already told you. I ran because I did something wrong," said Perry. The four of them had returned to Perry's bedroom and were questioning him – or rather, Danny and Lindsay were, while Taylor was nursing the elbow she had banged. "Sometimes when I drink, I do stupid things. Things I don't remember."

"Well you remember how Randy Williams ended up dead?" Danny asked.

Perry looked down at the floor. "I still can't believe he's dead. I was just with him, we went to party… He can't be dead."

He bent over and cradled his head in his hands. As he did, something caught Taylor's eye. "Those are some interesting scratches on your back, Perry. Randy Williams had the same scratches."

Lindsay looked over at the scratches. "Must have made you kind of angry that he was sleeping with you girlfriend."

"Actually, I'm Randy's girlfriend," muttered Amber. "Randy and I have been going out since high school. I didn't want to hurt him. Perry and I… it just happened." She looked down at the floor.

"So where were you and Randy partying?" Danny asked, returning his attention to the friend.

"I don't know. A bunch of places, I guess," Perry lifted his head from his hands. "I was trashed. I only remember bits and pieces."

"Start with the bits," Danny told him.

"We… we were at some club. On Broadway."

"Broadway is the longest street in the world, kiddo," Danny pointed out.

"There were girls dancing. And we had a problem with a bouncer, and that's all I remember," Perry shrugged helplessly.

In all honesty, Taylor could sympathise. She had woken up many a time after a heavy night out, unable to remember much, but without a hangover. On the plus side, she normally had Maddy to fill her in on the night's events, as Maddy usually remembered everything, but always wanted someone to put her out of her misery. Perry seemed to have the worst of both worlds.

"Well, that narrows it down," Lindsay told him dryly. "How about some more bits? You said you had a problem with a bouncer?"

"We were way out of line and we pissed him off. He and Randy really got into it. Randy was hot. He wanted another shot at the guy. We waited outside until the bar closed."

"Then you confronted the bouncer?" led Danny

"We followed him into the train station. They had words - that's it!" Perry told him, "The train came; we got on, and went to the back."

"You see the bouncer on the train?"

Perry shook his head. "Not that I remember. Look, we were clubbing, got trashed, got stupid, headed home – the usual. I left Randy on the train, went to another club," his voice broke. "Now he's dead."

Taylor walked over to Danny and pointed to a pair of shoes she had spotted – they were filthy, like Randy's had been. Danny crouched down and examined the soles of them. "You remember surfing on the train with Randy?"

Perry shrugged. "Maybe, I dunno." He sighed. "We do it sometimes. We were hammered."

"Well, do you remember killing Randy Williams, and throwing his body on the tracks?" Danny asked, a little forcefully, as he got to his feet.

"Look, I've got nothing else to say," Perry returned, just as forcefully.

Danny frowned and turned to leave, but something caught his eye. Taylor watched him as he bent back down and picked up a paddle with Greek letters on it. "You like being punished, Perry? Cos that's what we do. Except we don't tie you to the bed and spank you with some pledge panel. We throw you in jail." Perry looked petrified. "So, you won't mind if I borrow this? Right? See if Randy Williams didn't get a punishment he didn't deserve."

. . .

Taylor yawned as she trudged up the steps to the crime lab. She pushed open the door and found herself face to face with QT Hammer, who was holding his cup of coffee again. "Help me."

"Coffee." Said Taylor, as he disappeared. "Yeah, I could do with a coffee right now."

"Talking to yourself?" Flack appeared to her right, smirking at her. "That's the first sign of madness, you know. Then again, talking to ghost has got to be way up there in list of signs."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

"Witty comeback," he smirked, leaning against the wall. "Or did you leave them in your other dress."

"No, you're confusing that with my tolerance for you," she snapped back.

"Someone's a little grumpy," Flack said, tauntingly.

"Someone hasn't been to bed yet," she told him through gritted teeth.

Flack held up his hands, "Whoa, I don't want to hear about your sex life."

"No, because jealousy is really not a pretty shade on you," Taylor informed her, narrowing her eyes.

"Jealous? Me?" Flack scoffed. "Of you? Pah."

Taylor smiled, "Face it; you're jealous I have a life."

"She says, all dolled up. You were clearly out, and had to interrupt your evening to come here."

"Sooooo… you're now willing to admit there are ghosts?" she asked him.

"Hell no!" Flack exclaimed. "But I am willing to admit I think you're crazy."

Taylor let out and infuriated groan. "No, _you_ drive me crazy."

"Ah, Taylor, here you are," said Stella as she came over and joined them. She looked between the two of them, a small smile on her face. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No!" said both Flack and Taylor at the same time.

Stella looked between the two of them once more, "Mac says you should go up and see him. However, he's currently fishing around in stomach contents." She let out a laugh, "Sorry, no pun intended there." Taylor groaned – she unlike Flack, knew exactly what Stella was talking about. "So, I'm going to offer you a lifeline. We have a suspect. Want to join us?""

"Us?" asked Flack, scowling.

"Ah, Flack. Of course us."

Taylor looked at Flack, thought about the alternative, and nodded – if she saw a dish of stomach contents, she was pretty certain she would be seeing her own.

. . .

"Mr Reiter, you want to put the weights down, please?" Flack, Stella and Taylor were standing in the middle of a gym, watching their suspect lift a 50lb weight.

"When I finished my set," he grunted, "48."

"Mr Reiter, we need to talk to you about the losses you took in the market," Stella told him.

"50." He placed the weight down on the floor.

"Right now, Mr Reiter," Stella ordered.

Reiter ignored her and clapped his hands, sending clouds of dust out in the air. Taylor glanced up at Flack –he had a small smile on his face. She turned her attention back to Reiter, only, stood next to him was QT. Taylor frowned, ignoring whatever it was Reiter was saying to the woman. "Help me," said QT, holding up the same takeaway cup of coffee.

He vanished just as the woman bent down to pick something up in front of them. Taylor glanced back at Flack – he had a small smirk on his face. She rolled her eyes as Reiter came over to them.

"What's my money got to do with you?"

"QT Hammer's dead," Flack told him shortly.

"What he do? Jump out a window?" Reiter scoffed.

"Now why would you say that?" Stella asked him.

Reiter shrugged. "I'm sure all his clients took it bad yesterday." Flack bent over and picked up and aerosol from the ground, twirling it around. Reiter watched him. "Including me."

Flack ignored him, and turned his attention to Taylor, grabbing her hand and spraying whatever the stuff was on it. Taylor snatched her hand away. Flack smirked, "Buler's Magic Grip," he read aloud. "Athletic adhesive used for rock climbing, discus throwing, and looky here," he looked up at Reiter. "Weight-lifting."

Taylor scowled at the detective, and wiped her hand on his jacket sleeve.

"What's all this about?" demanded Reiter.

"We know you paid QT Hammer a visit earlier in the day. And thanks to your powder here, we suspect you had your hands around his neck," Flack told him, after a quick glare at Taylor, who glared back.

"Look, it's not every day you lose $2.4 million in 6 hours. So I paid him a visit. We had a little client/broker heart to heart. Just the two of us. I lost my temper and my money."

"Yeah, and a vase," Stella added.

"What?" he asked indignantly. "You want me to reimburse him? I think I can find five bucks. Let me find my wallet."

"Yeah, do that," said Flack. "We're going to need your ID to file assault charges." He followed Reiter as he went to get his wallet.

Taylor turned to Stella. "I don't think he did it, Stella. QT showed up, again. He seems pretty insistent about that coffee."

Stella sighed and nodded. "Alright, we'll see what else the evidence can tell us."


	27. Good Old Fashioned Research

**Chapter 26: Good Old Fashioned Research**

"Where have you been?" Mac asked Taylor. The two of them were entering the floor of the Crime Lab at the same time.

"Don't worry, Mac, she was with me," Stella rescued her as she caught the two up.

"Well, so long as you were supervised."

Taylor managed a small smile. She wasn't surprised, but for some reason it actually bothered her that Mac didn't trust her. "I'll be in your break room," Taylor told Stella, before heading for the room. She settled down onto the couch, and let out a yawn. It was still early morning, but she hadn't been to bed yet. She also had a column due in, in six hours, and was being pestered by two ghosts from two cases. Taylor frowned. It was either a case of, try and do some work, and wait for the ghosts to bug her, or, get rid of the ghosts so she could fully focus on her column.

She was about to opt for the first option, and find a computer, when she realise that she was a journalist, and she should be doing what she did best – researching. The ghost of QT seemed pretty adamant that his death had something to do with coffee. She pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through her numbers, settling on Smith.

Smith was a colleague of hers from the paper, who worked in the finance section, mainly on the Stock Market reports, but he also had his own column. She hit dial and brought her phone to her ear.

"_Chris Smith._"

"Hi, Smith. It's Taylor Turner."

"_Hi Taylor, how's things?_" he asked her warmly.

"Good. I'm surprised you hear your phone." When he wasn't writing, the guy lived in headphones – he was always listening to something. He claimed it was the stock reports, but Taylor was pretty certain she had heard Celine Dion before.

"_Vibrate, Taylor._"

Taylor laughed, "Look, I was hoping you could help me with something?"

"_Sure. What's up?_"

"This is going to sound strange, but how is coffee doing in the stock market?"

"_Um, okay. Not the question I was expecting. Well, not well enough that I would recommend you buying a lot of shares. But coffee is a constant, so they'll pick up._"

"Oh," sighed Taylor, as she slumped back into the couch in disappointment.

"_Can I ask why you want to know?_"

"I'm doing some research for an article about how the motive amongst the business class and the lower class is different," Taylor told him, quickly drumming up a reason.

"_And your example is coffee?_" he asked in surprise.

Taylor froze. "No, I, uh… a stock broker."

"_Well, what's your thesis?_"

"That the lower classes do it for money."

"_I don't know exactly where you're going, but money would be a big motive for a stock broker._"

Taylor leant forward. "What do you mean?"

"_Well, aside from the obvious of angry clients if their broker lost them money, there's also the fact that the under broker could be a threat,_" Smith told her.

"Explain," pressed Taylor.

"_Well under the City Exchange By-Laws, if a broker dies, his under broker inherits his book, effectively inheriting his money,_" Smith explained.

"Smith, I owe you one. Thank you." She said her goodbyes and hung up, before hurrying out of the room to find a computer – Smith was going to email her a copy of the By-Laws for her.

. . .

She found Stella with Sheldon in one of the Audio Visual Labs. Taylor was about to go in, when she caught what Stella was saying.

"I checked that office high and low. I didn't find a paper cup."

Taylor smiled – it was a nice feeling to know that Stella was beginning to listen. She could tell that Stella didn't completely believe, but she believed enough that she would listen.

"Let's fast forward the image," Sheldon was saying.

"He came out of QT's office without it."

"Probably hid the cup on his person and threw the cup away in the bathroom when he was supposed to be throwing up," Sheldon suggested.

"Spying on them?"

Taylor whirled around and found Flack watching her. "Nope, just about to break your case," she told him, smugly.

Flack rolled his eyes, "Don't tell me – a ghost."

Taylor shook her head, "Good old fashioned research.

"More talking to yourself, then?"

"Nope, to Chris Smith," Taylor retorted lightly.

"And he would be who?"

"The man who writes the Stocks, Shares and Finance column in my paper," Taylor replied.

"And talking to him is going to break the case, how?" Flack asked, once again rolling his eyes at her. Taylor smiled at him and handed him the papers she had printed out. "What's this?" he asked, flicking through them.

"That would be the City Exchange By-Laws. In them, it says that should a broker die, his under broker is entitled to his book – his clients."

Flack glanced from the Taylor, to the papers, and back to Taylor again. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, walked into the AV lab, and over to Sheldon and Stella. "Well, this isn't going to get taken away by the cleaning crew."

Taylor followed him in.

"What have you got there?" Stella asked, looking at the papers.

"City Exchange By-Laws." Stella cocked her head. "Turns out our little Nancy Drew was doing what she does best. Seems the under broker told a big fib. When QT Hammer went out the window, his under broker Bobby Martin inherited his book."

Stella turned to Taylor and smiled. "QT gave you that?"

Taylor shook her head, "I called a friend from the paper. Don't worry – I didn't give away any information to the case. I was asking him about coffee, actually." She laughed, "I think the next time I see him, he's going to try and convince me to invest in something, though."

"You were right about the coffee," Stella told her. "Only not in the way we were expecting it."

"Our killer used it to smuggle chloroform into the office without us seeing," Sheldon explained.

"Okay, so we don't have the paper cup, but we have the motive," declared Stella. "Gentlemen," she said, addressing Flack and Sheldon, "We have to find that cup."

. . .

Taylor was back in the break room. There was nothing she could do on the QT case unless he appeared, and now she was going to focus on the Randy Williams case. Or rather, Randy appeared and gave her no choice in the matter. "Help me." He was holding his map again, pointing to a spot.

Taylor sighed, "Look, they have exhausted that car – there's nothing there, Randy," she told the ghost. "You are going to have to give me something else to work with." The map was replaced by a tooth. "The shark tooth?"

"Help me."

Taylor bit her tongue and pulled out her phone, flicking through it to Al Briscoe – the sports writer. Normally, Al would seem like a strange person to go to, but what a lot of people didn't know about Al, was that he knew a lot of random facts. It was thanks to him that Taylor knew the reason Coca-Cola was called that was because it used to have cocaine in it until it was made illegal, and that there are, on average, 158 sesame seeds on a Big Mac bun.

"_Taylor? What's up, sweetheart?_" he greeted her cheerfully.

"Sharks."

"_Sharks?_"

"Yeah, as in the ones that swim in the sea," Taylor quickly clarified. "If I was to have a shark's tooth, how likely would it be that it came from the real thing, or, rather, what are the chances it would be some trinket from Coney Island."

"_You mean, what are the chances that a shark was caught around here?_" he asked her, sounding puzzled.

"Yeah," Taylor agreed.

"_In all honesty, quite slim. However, my uncle caught one, probably a good decade ago,_" Al told her.

"Here?"

"_Just outta the mouth of the Hudson. He's always bragging about how him and his friend, Chuck White, caught a Great White with six other guys._"

Chuck White? Danny had said that was the guy who he and Lindsay had been to see before they had gone back to the subway car. An enormous grin spread across Taylor's face, "Al, I could kiss you."

All laughed, "_I don't think my wife would appreciate it, but thanks. So, why do you want to know?_"

"Research on natural deaths in the city," Taylor offered.

Al took the bait. "_Ah, ok. Glad I could help_."

"Hey, Al, I have one last question for you."

"_Shoot._"

"I don't suppose you have any evidence of this, do you?"

"_Funny you should ask. I've just pulled a picture of him and his catch out of my closet._"

"Can you email me a copy?" Taylor asked him hopefully.

"_Sure. I'll do that now_." Al promised her

"Thanks, Al. I owe you one."

"_How about next time I have a party, you don't leave quite so early?_"

Taylor agreed and hung up, heading back to the computer she had used earlier. Sure enough, by the time she got there, Al had sent her a copy of the photograph. She printed the picture out and left the room, bumping almost instantly into Danny. "Danny!"

"What's up, Drew?"

Taylor rolled her eyes at the use of the nickname but handed him the photograph anyway. "Any of those men look familiar?"

Danny took another look at the photograph. "That's Chuck White." He stopped and turned to face Taylor. "Where did you get this from?"

"Al Briscoe."

"Al Briscoe? The sports guy?"

Taylor nodded. "Yeah. Turns out, one of the guys with Chuck is Al's uncle."

Danny turned back in the direction he was heading, and saw Mac. "Get anything else from the splinters, boss?" he called after him.

"Yeah, anti-freeze."

"Anti-freeze?" He gave Taylor a quick nod of the head, and the two of them hurried to catch up with him. "You might want to take a look at what Taylor found."

Mac looked at the picture and then at Taylor. "Where did you get this?"

"Contact at the paper," Taylor quickly explained.

Mac stared at her, then smiled. "Good job." He grabbed his coat and hurried out.

"What's the rush?" Danny asked.

"I have a train to catch," Mac called over his shoulder.

. . .

Taylor hit the send button and leant back in her chair, letting out a sigh. She had gone home after both Chuck White and Bobby Martin had been arrested and charged for murder. It actually felt good that she had managed to help by herself, rather than with the help of ghosts. And if it wasn't for the fact that CSIs had to deal with death on a daily basis… and the fact she had an arts degree, rather than a science degree, she could almost consider a change of profession.

Almost.

However, as it was, she loved her job, and the award she was going to receive that weekend was proof that not only was she good at it, but others thought so too. She got to her feet and headed to the kitchen to get herself some food, when the ghost of QT appeared.

"Thank you," he told her.

"You're welcome."

"You really help, you know that?" he said, earnestly.

Taylor frowned, "The CSIs do a brilliant job without me."

"Yes, but you give us our final voice."

Taylor bit her lip. "I just wish that you weren't alone whilst I try to help you – that you have someone there to make it easier for you."

"Do you mean that?" he asked her, somewhat surprised.

Taylor nodded. The ghost of QT disappeared to be replaced with Randy.

"Thank you, also."

"You're also welcome," Taylor told him.

"You past the first part of the test."

"What test?" Taylor demanded.

"The Powers That Be are pleased," was Randy's response.

"Hang on, you can't keep coming here, leaving me cryptic messages about some higher power, without explaining a thing or two."

The ghost frowned. "There is a plan. It has been set in motion from before you were born. It is underway now. What is going to happen, was going to happen. It will all be explained to you in due course." Randy disappeared.

"Is that is?" Taylor shouted at the ceiling. "Can't you just give me something a little more substantial to go on here. I'm talking to dead people, for crying out loud."

Unsurprisingly, she didn't get an answer.


	28. Dresses Fit For Princesses

**Chapter 27: Dresses Fit For Princesses**

Taylor, Maddy, Lindsay and Stella got out of Stella's car and crossed the road to enter the building which housed the New York Daily. Taylor led them through the maze of corridors to Gary's office. It was a large room – or, it would have been, had it not been full to the brim of racks of clothes, and boxes of shoes – which overlooked the street below.

Taylor ushered them in and unearthed the couch (which was buried below a mountain of clothes) for the other three women to sit on. "Unfortunately, this room is always like this – he didn't actually bring all of these clothes in especially."

"Ladies!" Gary exclaimed from the doorway, before walking over and kissing each woman on the cheek as Taylor introduced him to Stella and Lindsay. "You are all beautiful women," he told them. "And beautiful women don't deserve to wait to go to the ball. You first, my dear," he grabbed Lindsay, pulling her to her feet. "Black and Gold." He went to a rack and pulled a gown off of it

"That's beautiful," Lindsay gasped, taking it off him and running her fingers over the tulle netting which covered the sequined skirt below.

"Now, normally, I don't like giving a girl something as sparkly as this, but when they have eyes like yours, I know that the dress won't steal the attention away from them – only compliment them. Now, you're going to have to wear heels, to stop the dress drowning you, and the straight neckline will look divine on you."

"We're not your readers," grinned Taylor. "You don't need to sell us the dress."

"I know, but it will make you feel more special," Gary said, walking over to the stack of boxes. "I take it you're a six?" he asked. Lindsay nodded, and he pulled out a pair of heeled sandals, with just the one sparkly strap. "You need something like these with that skirt." He took the dress back off her and hung it up on an empty rack. "You can try it on, once your hair and make-up is done."

Lindsay smiled, her eyes sparkling like a little girl on Christmas morning.

"Maddy, darling," said Gary, turning his attention to the blonde. "When are you going to realise that you look so much better as a brunette? Let the world admire that Cuban in you."

Maddy smiled. "Thank you, Gary, but Pete prefers me as a blonde."

Gary, who didn't know about Pete, shrugged and turned to a rack. "This one, my darling," he told her, plucking a floaty number in several shades of blue. "I know how playful you are, and this has just enough sparkle to it too."

"Gary, it's lovely, but I'm more of a hot pink kind of girl," said Maddy as she dubiously held the number up against her.

"It's an award ceremony, Maddy. It's not your prom with the end game of losing your virginity," Gary chided her.

Maddy pulled a face. "I lost my virginity long before prom," she corrected him, breaking into a grin. "Prom was fun, not messy."

"Well consider this your graduation in front of your parents," Gary said with a frown.

"Oh, I had fun at graduation too," Maddy told him.

"Maddy!" Taylor exclaimed. "You promised me you would behave."

"I did behave," Maddy smiled innocently. "I used protection."

"Okay," Gary interrupted them. "Maddy, I don't have a hot pink dress in my collection. Please trust me when I say this will look fabulous next to your skin colouring, and in addition, the sweetheart neckline will make you look demure and graceful."

"You're the expert," sighed Maddy as he took the dress off her and hung it next to Lindsay's.

"I also remembered you love for stilettos," he pulled out another pair of sandals and put them with the dress. Gary turned his attention to Stella. "My dear, your curls are fabulous. I am so happy to see a woman who loves them and doesn't spend hours hiding them with the straighteners." He looked pointedly Taylor. "For you, I think Grecian and purple. Elegance demands elegance."

Stella smiled. "I already feel spoiled and I haven't even seen the dress."

"Well let's not keep you waiting." Gary smiled and plucked another gown from the rack. "A symmetrical draping from the fitted bodice to opposite waist will create a look of sleek elegance, while the jewelled bands that cross the bodice sparkle, drawing the eye down the clean lines of this glittering dress and over that fabulous figure of yours."

"Even the way you describe it sends shivers down my spine," murmured Stella, fingering the fabric.

"No, it will be you who sends the shivers down the men's spines," Gary assured her.

"Are you sure you're not straight?" Maddy chuckled.

"And now for the guest of honour at tonight's event. Tonight you are star of the show and you shall thus dress like one." He turned and pulled one last dress out.

Taylor let out a gasp, as did the three other women. "Gary, I can't wear that. It must cost a fortune."

Gary smiled, "I wouldn't expect my star in anything else. This, Taylor," he held the gown up, "is for you. Strapless, ruched bust line and fitted dropped waistline. This divine little number will reveal your lovely figure with its sexy sweetheart neckline and mid back design."

Taylor fingered the intricate embroidered detail which ran across the gown's bodice. "Gary, this is beautiful. If it were white, I would want it as my wedding dress."

"Well, it's a good job its grey, isn't it?" Said Maddy.

"It's called titanium," said Gary, defensively.

"Isn't that just a fancy way of saying it's grey?" Maddy asked him.

Gary frowned at her. "Do you still want to wear that dress I picked out for you?"

Maddy wrapped her arms around him. "Of course I do, darling. If you want to call it titanium, it's titanium."

Gary turned to Stella. "Aren't you glad you don't have to work with her?"

Stella smiled. "She reminds me of someone I used to work with – all attitude."

"Well, my darlings, we can't have you going to the ball without your hair done."

"Huh?" asked Stella.

"Sorry," said Taylor sheepishly, "I thought I told you we were going to get hair and make-up done as well."

"You told me, if that makes you feel any better?" said Lindsay – her eyes were still sparkling excitedly.

"Follow me, ladies." Gary led them out of his office and down the corridor to another office. This one, Taylor noted, had been set up like a salon. She wondered if Smith, from the finance section actually knew what Gary had done to his office. Probably not. Gary led each of the women to their own private cubicle, where a hair artist was waiting – straighteners and curling irons at the ready. Taylor settle back into her chair and waited for her stylist to work his magic.

. . .

"Wow." Taylor turned to her best friend and smiled. She was all dressed up, including a small tiara settled on a mass of curls. Gary had insisted that she wear her hair down and curly – something her stylist had also agree with. "Gary was right; you do suit platinum, or whatever colour it was."

"You look like a princess," said Stella.

Taylor turned to look at the other three women. Maddy actually pulled off her number, her hair straight, sleek, and pinned up. Stella certainly didn't look her age, and had Frankie been able to make it that evening, he would certainly been impressed. As for Lindsay, black and gold were most definitely her colour. Perhaps a certain other person there tonight would actually notice her. Although, mused Taylor, he had just been dumped by a girlfriend. Frankly, Taylor thought she paled in comparison to the others.

"Your limo is here, ladies," said Gary, appearing at the doorway.

"There's a limo, as well?" Lindsay exclaimed in excitement. "You're really getting the star treatment, aren't you, Taylor?"

"Taylor here, has just bought a huge amount of publicity to the paper which money can't buy," Gary told the younger CSI proudly. Taylor smiled and followed him out to the awaiting limousine.

"I feel like it's my prom night all over," said Maddy.

"Well, I didn't have a date then, so I guess it's pretty similar," Taylor pondered thoughtfully.

"I thought you asked Marty," said Maddy, slyly – she knew Taylor hadn't told Stella or Lindsay this.

"Marty? As in Marty Pino? Our coroner?" asked Stella.

Taylor blushed. "Well, I asked Mac, Danny, Sheldon and Flack, as well."

"Yeah, but they weren't asked as the intention of being your date, were they?" Maddy piped up, earning a death glare from her best friend.

"I didn't ask Marty as my date," objected Taylor.

"I thought you were going to?" Maddy continued, regardless of the stares she was getting.

"Hang on, you like Marty?" asked Lindsay in surprise.

"I don't know. We live together," Taylor shrugged.

"You live with Marty?" Stella asked. "How long has that been the case?"

"About two or three weeks after we arrested Darius," Lindsay told her.

"That was months ago! Why am I just hearing about it now?" Stella demanded.

"Whoa, hold up and rewind!" interrupted Maddy, her hands in the air. The three women turned to look at her. "Did you chicken out of asking him out again?"

"You were going to ask him out?" asked Stella, still looking a little surprised.

"Yeah, she was," Maddy told her before Taylor could answer – Taylor sent her another glare.

"Oh, I always thought that … hmmm, I guess I should stop working on that one," she muttered to herself.

"No, I wasn't going to ask him out, Stella," Taylor interjected, still glaring at Maddy. "I wanted him to come, and I do like him, I feel really comfortable around him. I don't want to spoil that, though, and I don't think he's ready for the same kind of relationship I am… besides, he's never given any indication as to wanting anything more."

"He's a guy, of course he has thought about something more," said Maddy, rolling her eyes.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Not the same kind of more that I'm after, ho-bag."

"Ho-bag?" questioned Lindsay with a giggle.

"Sophomore year of high school – she was ho-bag, I was…" Taylor mumbled the last bit.

"Nancy Drew!" exclaimed Maddy, loudly.

Stella and Lindsay burst out laughing.

"Don't tell Danny or Flack that, please." Taylor begged.

"I don't know, that's too good not to," chuckled Stella.

"Come on," she pleaded. "You wouldn't be wearing that dress if it weren't for me."

"Don't worry," Lindsay assured her. "Your secret is safe with us."

* * *

_Axellia's Note: If you want to see the dresses, they're up on my website now!_


	29. And It Started So Well

**Chapter 28: And It Started So Well**

Sheldon was having a whale of a time. He was sat at the large, round table with Mac, Danny, Marty and Flack, all of whom – well, not really Mac – were on their way to being… tipsy. They'd only been there for thirty minutes, but the place had an open bar, and when they had found that out, it had been a trip straight there to fill up their glasses. Currently, they were sat around chatting about sports – how the Yankees were doing that season.

"So where's the woman of the hour?" asked Flack, suddenly changing the subject. "This is her party, isn't it?"

"And why are you so anxious to know?" Danny asked him.

Flack rolled his eyes. "Don't even go there, Messer."

"They're getting all dolled up," said Marty. "Tay said something about designer dresses."

Flack groaned. "Great, they're going to be hours."

"Seriously, Don. Why are you anxious to have Drew here?"

"I'm hungry," Flack responded dryly. "And they're not going to serve dinner until she turns up."

"I think you're in luck," said Sheldon, pointing to the doorway. He had just spotted their female co-workers, the guest of honour, and Maddy. For the most part, the jaws of the men dropped to the table. The women all looked like the proverbial million dollars. Sheldon glanced over at his co-workers – they were all staring appreciatively – it was times like these that he wished he could read minds. It would most definitely have amused him.

Taylor spotted them and headed across the room towards them. Except when she got to the middle of the dance floor, the room erupted into a round of applause. Taylor grinned sheepishly, and held up a hand in thanks.

"Taylor! There you are," Alex, her editor headed over towards her. "There are so many people I want you to meet." He grabbed her by the hand and whisked her away before she could say anything to the others, only giving them a helpless look over her shoulder.

Maddy laughed and followed Lindsay and Stella to the table. "Hi, Marty," she greeted her friend's roommate, sitting down next to him.

"What's up, Maddy. You're not looking too bad, this evening," he told her, eyeing her up in an appreciative, yet obvious manner.

Maddy licked her lips, returning the look. "You're not looking too bad yourself, hot-stuff."

"Where's that boyfriend of yours," he asked her suspiciously.

"He couldn't make it," she told him, before turning her attention to Danny, who was ogling over Lindsay. "Am I right in assuming that you're Danny?"

Danny looked over at her. "That's me."

"And you're Flack?" she asked the detective, who was staring at something behind her.

"Flack?" Danny nudged him in the ribs.

"Huh, yeah, hi," he said, smiling at Maddy.

"You were at the hospital, weren't you?" she asked him, quietly.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Are you alright?"

Maddy nodded. "I'm fine – it was an accident anyway."

Flack pursed his lips, but chose not to say anything.

Oblivious, Maddy leant over the table towards Danny and Flack. "So, as Taylor's best friend, I feel it is my duty to tell you that since the age of fifteen, Taylor's nickname has been Nancy Drew," she informed them in a conspiratorial whisper.

Danny and Flack looked at each other and grinned. "That is the best ammunition I have ever had," Danny told her.

"Taylor is going to kill you," Lindsay muttered, leaning over.

"I know," grinned Maddy.

Danny, who had been staring at Lindsay with awe since she joined them, finally decided to pay her a compliment. "Montana, you look… wow."

"Smooth, Messer," muttered Flack, as Lindsay smiled at him and turned her attention to Sheldon.

. . .

Taylor smiled politely at the Mayor, hoping that he would let her get back to the others. Much as it was flattering that someone as important as the mayor wanted to talk to her, she was actually bored. And more importantly, she was hungry. Thankfully, she was saved by Alex. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but the kitchens are ready to serve the dinner."

Taylor smiled gratefully at him, excused herself from the group and headed over to the table where the others were sat. She sat down – there had been a slight case of musical chairs since she had been gone – in between Maddy and Flack.

"You were gone ages," complained Maddy.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Fine you go talk to the Mayor next time. Just be thankful I managed to convince them to let me sit with you."

"Why wouldn't you – it's your party."

"Exactly," Taylor muttered as the first course was laid in front of them - spicy stuffed golden mushrooms. (Extra large premium mushrooms stuffed with sautéed crab, mozzarella cheese, and coated with a spicy sesame seed breading before finally being fried). Taylor let out a moan of pleasure as she fed one into her mouth – she was starving. Flack glanced over at her and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Don't look like that," laughed Maddy, catching his look. "You've just spent the last half hour complaining about how hungry you are."

Taylor stifled a laugh and returned her attention to the mushrooms. She really didn't want to eat too much – there were six more course to come, but they _were_ delicious.

"So, what exactly is the program of events?" Stella asked her from across the table.

"Not a clue," said Taylor, as she took a mouthful of wine. "All I know is that I have to give a speech after dinner, which I am thrilled about," she told her dryly.

The mushrooms were soon replaced with a soup – Spring Medley Chicken. It was just as good as the mushrooms, and Taylor and Flack were the first to finish. By the time it had gotten to the fifth course (they'd had a mixed baby green salad, garlic cheese bread, braised pork medallions in a creamy salsa red wine sauce), only Flack and Taylor were still eating. However, Flack won the eating competition – Taylor simply had no room to fit the chocolate mousse in.

"They really do love you, don't they," sighed Stella in contentment.

Taylor leant back and groaned. "Maybe a little too much," she muttered, rubbing her belly.

Maddy laughed. "Algunas cosas no cambian."

Taylor rolled her eyes, "Some things do, Mads."

Maddy leant over. "Él tiene gusto de usted."

Taylor glared at her. "Che cazzo stai dicendo?"

"Great," muttered Flack. "I feel like I need a dictionary with me in the lab, and here I feel like I need a translator."

"Well, Taylor is talking in Italian, and Maddy in Spanish," Danny leant over and told him.

"I gathered that," Flack muttered, as he watched the two women talk to each other in their own languages.

"I'm not exactly sure about Maddy, but Taylor is insulting someone."

Flack scowled as Taylor switched seats with Maddy and started talking to Marty. Maddy turned her attention to her right and looked at Flack, who was both scowling, and looking confused. "Baile conmigo."

"Huh?" he asked, blankly.

"Dance with me," Maddy repeated in English. Flack shrugged and allowed Maddy to lead him to the dance floor. "You're not bad," Maddy told him after a while.

"You can thank my grandmother that. She imprinted on us that all good men should be able to dance."

"You learnt to dance?" Maddy asked in disbelief.

"When I wasn't playing basketball, yeah," Flack nodded.

. . .

"Maddy and Flack look cosy," Marty observed.

Taylor turned and watched the two – a pain twanged in her stomach.

"Are you alright?" Marty asked her, watching her movements.

Taylor smiled. "Yeah, I think I just ate too much."

"You look really hot, you know?" he added with a grin.

Taylor laughed. "I don't think hot was the word Gary was looking for, but thank you. Can I ask you something?" Taylor asked as the others left the table.

"Sure."

"In all the times that you've been visited by ghosts, have they ever mentioned The Powers That Be?" Taylor asked him quietly, conscious of all the movement around them.

Marty frowned and shook his head. "Not that I can remember. Why?"

"The name keeps cropping up, and I get the feeling that what they have planned is not going to be good." She sighed. "I was hoping that you would know something about them."

"Why are you two looking so sombre?" laughed Maddy as she dragged Flack back to them. "It's a party!" She grabbed Marty. "Your turn."

Taylor watched Flack as he sat down next to her. "Is she always like that?" he asked her, watching her energy with amazement.

"You should be thankful she's not single – she's a nightmare when she's looking for a boyfriend," Taylor told him.

Flack turned his attention back to the black haired woman sat next to him. "She's still with that boyfriend then?"

Taylor nodded sadly. "She thinks she loves him, and from what I can gather, he practically worships the ground she walks on. But he hit her, Flack. And I'm scared he'll do it again."

Flack looked at her, unsure as to what to say. Instead, he reached over and grabbed her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

. . .

Maddy let out a squeal that Taylor could hear from the other side of the dance floor. Taylor had been chatting with Sheldon and Al, while Maddy had been dancing with Danny, when their song came on. When they were eighteen, the two of them had gone to Majorca for an 'end-of-high school' celebration, and the song of the week had been Los Del Rio's Macarena – incredibly cheesy by all accounts, but they still knew the dance to it.

Maddy almost flew across the room to pull Taylor onto the dance floor, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Without Taylor even realising, Maddy had gone and grabbed Lindsay and Stella too, lining them up beside her, teaching them the dance. It didn't take long for them to catch on, and soon the whole room was watching four women, dressed to the nines, laughing hysterically as they took over the dance floor.

One song changed into another, and the four women didn't look like they wanted to go anywhere – even when, to Lindsay's delight, the music changed to country – all four of them stayed out there, (with Lindsay teaching them the moves).

Danny glanced at Flack and Marty. "What happened to the women we know, and who are those impostors?"

Marty laughed, "I haven't seen Taylor have so much fun in a long time."

"Do they even realise that they're the only people out there?" Flack asked, glancing around the room.

Danny shrugged. "They probably drank that much, they haven't even noticed. The DJ's loving them, though." Danny, Flack, and Marty's eyes suddenly widened in surprise. Even Danny's mouth fell open. "Mac?!" exclaimed Danny in disbelief. Stella, who for the last eight songs had been waving madly at their boss, had finally convinced him to join them. He had no rhythm in him at all, but he actually looked like he was enjoying himself.

As the music changed to the Timewarp, even Hawkes went out and joined them. As he went out, several others from around the room made their way to the dance floor. The boys watched in both disbelief and amusement.

Laughing loudly, Taylor walked over to them. "Come on, boring boys – dance!" The three of them looked at each other, causing Taylor to laugh harder.

"Taylor?"

Taylor turned around to find Alex, once again, waiting for her. "Hey boss. What can I do for you on this fine and dandy evening?"

Alex smiled, "I see someone is enjoying themselves. It's time for the mayor to present the award to you."

Taylor frowned. "The mayor is presenting it?"

Alex nodded. "According to NCR he was happy to do so."

Taylor turned back to the guys and smiled at them. "You've been saved. This time!"

. . .

Taylor stood on the podium holding tightly to the golden, pen-shaped, award, looking out over the room. "Well, first of all, thank you. Five years ago, when I started at the New York Daily I certainly didn't think that I would be stood here receiving this award. It's been a thrilling time for me, and I certainly enjoyed writing this as much as it seems you guys enjoyed reading it. However, I think a large portion of this award belongs to Detective Mac Taylor and his team at the Crime Lab." She pointed over to the table where a spotlight picked out Mac. She was about to continue when the light picked out a beautiful little black girl standing just behind him, clutching tightly to a teddy bear. "I… um…" Taylor stared intently at the child. And then it hit her – she was translucent, and she was dripping wet.

Taylor dropped the award, bringing her hand to her mouth. Dead bodies, blood and gore, were one thing… but a child? From all of the ghosts she'd encountered, the youngest had been about eighteen. But this one didn't look any older than five – and that was pushing it.

Ignoring everyone who was beginning to whisper and point, Taylor fled from the stage, tears burning at her eyes as she ran out of the first door she came across.


	30. A Whole New Level Of Sick

**Chapter 29: A Whole New Level Of Sick**

Taylor crouched over, panting in the alleyway behind the hotel the party was being held in, allowing the tears to fall down her face. In the past months, it had _never _occurred to her that one day, the next time a ghost appeared, it could be a child.

"Here you are," cried Maddy as she came over and joined her friend. "What was that about?"

Taylor looked up and faced her friend. "It was a child, Maddy. A little girl. She was standing next to Mac, all soaking wet," Taylor blurted out.

"Hablad más lentamente, por favour."

Taylor took a breath. "There was a little girl in there," she repeated, much slower.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Maddy asked again, still confused.

"There was a little girl in there, Maddy."

"Creo que no."

"There _was._ A ghost. Of a little girl," Taylor insisted.

Maddy looked down at her friend with a look of pity. "Taylor, there are no such things as ghosts."

"Yes there _are_!" Taylor cried, adamantly, standing upright. "They come to me for help. And this one was a child."

Maddy sighed. "How much have you had to drink?"

Taylor's eyes narrowed. "This isn't about alcohol, Maddy."

"Is everything all right?" Lindsay came out and joined the two women.

"Lindsay, there was a child," Taylor told her, squeezing her hands into fists to try to stop the shaking. Lindsay glanced behind her at Maddy, who was miming drinking. "I am not drunk," objected Taylor. She sighed and leant back against the wall. "You think I'm crazy. I know you do," she muttered. "But this isn't about me. This is about a little girl."

"Taylor, are you okay? What happened in there?" Danny and Marty came outside and joined them. Taylor hitched up her skirt and dashed over to them. "Taylor, what happened?" Marty asked her again, wiping away the tears that were streaking down her cheeks.

"It's a child, Marty. A _child_," Taylor told him, desperate for him to believe her.

Marty looked at her, and then wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"Did the ghost tell you anything?" Danny asked her softly.

Taylor shook her head. "She didn't look any older than five, Danny. Who kills a five year old?"

Danny sighed and looked down at his feet. "Alright, I'm going to the precinct – hang around and see if anything gets called in."

Taylor nodded, gratefully.

"And I'm going to take you home," Marty told her.

"But-" she started to object.

"No buts," said Marty. "You're doing nothing in that frock, and you can't do anything until we find the… the girl."

. . .

"Will you stop pacing." It wasn't a request.

Taylor had changed out of her dress and into some black combats and a grey camisole sat down heavily on the couch next to Marty. Within minutes, she was back on her feet. "I can't just sit here."

Marty sighed and pulled her down next to him. "Danny said he would call if anything came up." As if on cue, Marty's cell rang.

"Danny?" she asked him as he answered it.

He shook his head and mouthed _Sid_ at her. He listened to what Sid was saying, and then hung up. "They need me to go in." He rubbed his face. "Do you want me to call someone and get them to come around?"

"I don't need a babysitter, Marty," Taylor told him, grumpily.

"I know, I just…" he sighed. "Never mind." He leant over, gave her a kiss on the cheek and got to his feet. "I'll call you later." Taylor sat staring at the door, long after he had gone.

. . .

It was just after 4am when Taylor awoke with the strangest feeling that she was being watched. She leant over and switched a lamp on and checked her cell phone. Seeing no missed calls, she sighed and dropped the phone down on the couch.

"Stop me."

Taylor's head shot up and found herself staring at a tall, African American male, with slightly greying hair – probably in his late forties. "Stop you?"

"Stop me," the ghost repeated.

Taylor stared at him. He didn't seem like a normal ghost – there didn't seem to be any… wounds to him. He disappeared and she got to her feet, running her fingers through her hair. She grabbed her keys and was about to leave when the same ghost appeared in the doorway.

"Stay away!" it shouted venomously at her, before raising its arm and swiping her across the face, sending her flying.

Taylor looked up at the empty doorway, from her position on the floor, fear washing over her. Since when could a ghost hurt her? She got to her feet and ran out of the building all the way to the crime lab, checking over her shoulder the entire way.

"What the hell happened to you?" asked Flack as she dashed off the elevator. Taylor looked up at him and shook her head. "Taylor? Who hit you?" he repeated, walking after her.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she told him, dismissing his question with a shake of her head as she tried to walk past him.

He grabbed her arm and led her to the break room, before sitting her down, and pulling out an icepack out of the freezer to press against her cheek. "Try me."

"A ghost," she offered quietly.

Flack was silent for a very long time before he eventually spoke, "Taylor, ghosts can't hit people."

Taylor shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze. "That's what I thought."

Flack sighed. "Look, I can't stay. Dispatched just called. They've found a body in the Hudson."

Taylor's head shot up. "A little girl?"

"I don't know, but Danny and Stella are already there."

"I'm coming with you," Taylor informed him, dropping the ice pack on the coffee table and getting to her feet.

Flack got up next to her. "I don't have the authority to-"

"Since when has that ever been an issue?" Taylor asked him, cutting him off.

Flack frowned. "You should be in bed."

"Don't tell me what I should and shouldn't be doing, Flack."

"Well maybe somebody should," Flack finally snapped.

"Don't even go there," she growled at him, getting to her feet. She was a good four inches shorter than him, but that didn't put her off.

Flack glared back at her, then his glare softened. "You looked nice tonight."

Well, that completely threw her. "And you… huh?" she asked, staring blankly at him.

"It's a shame your evening was ruined." He turned and left, leaving her stood gaping after him. And then it hit her. She dashed after him. "Nice try," she told him. "But I'm still coming."

Flack looked at her, as if he was wrestling with himself to say something, but instead sighed and nodded.

. . .

By the time they arrived at the scene, the sun was beginning to rise, and Danny was already in the water, shouting directions to the men in charge of the cranes. Flack disappeared, going to talk to the witness and collect his statements, leaving Taylor with Stella.

"It was a nice party," Stella told her, as they waited for the body to be hoisted out of the water. "But what happened during your speech?" Taylor pointed at the body of the little girl which was slowly being winched down onto dry land. "Oh," said Stella softly, wincing as she saw the body.

Taylor turned away, only to be greeted by the ghost of the little girl again. She had never seen a ghost look so scared and lost before – it made her heart break. "We have to find him, Stelle," she whispered. The sooner they did, the sooner the little girl's spirit could move on.

. . .

Taylor was sat in a meeting room at the Crime Lab waiting for Stella and Danny to return from the morgue. She had decided that she couldn't face seeing that little girl on the autopsy table, and both of the CSIs had agreed it was probably for the best.

Except she wasn't alone. The little girl was sat on the chair next to her, clutching tightly to her teddy bear and sucking her thumb.

"How are you holding up? Stella asked her, as she, Danny and Lindsay entered the room, causing the ghost to disappear.

Taylor managed a small smile. "I'll be fine."

Stella sighed sympathetically. "Look, Taylor, this report isn't pretty. You don't have to be here."

Taylor shook her head. "I'm staying," she told her quietly.

"Alright, well, Lindsay is joining us on this case, so I'm going to have to fill her in. If you don't want to stay, you don't have to," Stella assured her, taking the seat next to her. Taylor gave her a grateful nod. "So far we don't know who the girl is. According to Marty, she wasn't in the water for much more than an hour. TOD was-"

"Midnight," said Taylor – that was when she had started her speech.

"Around midnight," agreed Stella. "COD was strangulation, by hand." She sighed, "Marty did a rape test. It came back positive." Lindsay gasped, whilst Taylor fought with the wave of nausea which was washing over her. "He found some fluids, which were sent to DNA – I'm going to see Adam now, and get the results."

Taylor shut her eyes and listened to the scrape of Stella's chair as she got up and left. She opened her eyes when she felt someone place their hand on her arm – it was Lindsay. "Look, how about later we go for those stiff drinks we were supposed to have a while back?"

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Danny.

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "It's a girly thing, again, Danny."

"Didn't bother me last time. It's not going to bother me this time, Montana."

"The. Name. Is. Lindsay. Messer," she said very slowly, through gritted teeth.

Taylor bit back a smile as Danny smirked. She'd heard this exchange many a time, and it still amused her. "Sounds like a plan," Taylor repeated.

"Great. 9 o'clock, again? Same place?" Danny suggested.

Before Lindsay could object to Danny's presence at the bar later, Stella re-entered the room looking very sombre, yet her eyes were full of anger. She flung a folder down on the table.

"What's up, Stelle?" Danny asked.

"The DNA came back. Seven alleles in common with the vic."

Danny was angry, Lindsay was upset, and Taylor – she was confused. "What does that mean?" she asked, her eyes on Stella.

"It means that the bastard that killed her was related – her own father." Taylor gaped at her. "The good news," continued Stella. "If you can call it good news, is that the father is in the system for a sexual assault charge – we have an address."

Taylor felt sick – a whole new level of sick, that she'd yet to have experienced from seeing blood and gore.


	31. Mama Severina

**Chapter 30: Mama Severina**

While Danny and Lindsay went to process the clothes the little girl had been wearing, Taylor joined Flack and Stella on a trip to Harlem and the last known address of their suspect Pierre Leveau. Taylor followed the two detectives into a dark building and waited with them for someone to answer the door the sixth floor apartment they were standing outside of. The door opened and they were greeted by clouds of heavily scented smoke, and an anxious black woman. "Hello?"

Flack raised his badge. "Mrs Leveau?"

The woman nodded.

"Could we come in for a moment?" Stella asked her gently.

Taylor could see the fear grip the woman as she stood back and allowed the three of them into the room. It was dark. The curtains were still drawn and the only light was coming from the few candles which littered the room. In a corner, by the window, sat rocking in a chair, was a much older woman. She looked to be about seventy, at least, but there was something about her which convinced Taylor that she was actually a lot older than that.

"Mrs Leveau," started Stella. "We found a little girl today. Do you recognise her?" Stella held up a picture of the child and with one look, the woman let out a scream of anguish and collapsed on the floor, sobbing.

Taylor dashed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water while Stella helped the woman onto the couch. After handing Mrs Leveau the water, she perched on the end of a chair, next to the old woman, watching Stella comfort the woman. She shifted uncomfortably, feeling the intense stare from the old woman, but didn't turn.

"Mrs Leveau, I'm really sorry about your loss," Stella told the distraught woman.

"My baby," she wailed at them.

Stella sighed. "Mrs Leveau, we really need to ask you some questions."

Mrs Leveau sniffed, but nodded.

"How old was your daughter?" Flack asked her.

"Five."

Stella cleared her throat, clearly agitated, but trying desperately to keep her cool. "Mrs Leveau, she was pulled out of the Hudson a few hours ago. How come you didn't call the police?"

"Because it had to be done,"Mrs Leveau responded.

"Excuse me?" said Flack in disbelief. Taylor was certain the expression on his face was virtually identical to her own.

Mrs Leveau stared up at him. "She was a devil-child. She needed to be cleansed."

Taylor felt her stomach lurch.

"Devil-child?" Stella repeated, clearly struggling to keep her temper.

"She was the devil-child. She had Satan inside her and she needed to redeem her sins. God didn't want her to walk this earth no more," she continued to wail.

"Sins? She was five years old!" Taylor cried incredulously.

Stella shot her a warning look, then turned her attention back to Mrs Leveau. "What do you mean, she had to redeem her sins?"

"The holy men – they did try, but she was too evil. They tried to wash her sins away, but she sank, like a witch that she was."

"Mrs Leveau," Flack started, very slowly. "Are you admitting to killing your daughter?"

"No," she sobbed, "God did take her. She was unholy."

"I've heard enough," said Stella in disgust. "We're going to continue this back at the precinct."

Flack read the woman her rights and led her from the room with Stella. Taylor was about to follow when the old woman grabbed her wrist. "You see them, Child."

Taylor turned around, snatching her arm back. "I beg your pardon?"

"The spirits. You see them."

Taylor stared at her in disbelief. "How do you…?"

"Your aura tells me a lot." The woman patted the chair next to her. "Your aura is like a rainbow – it's telling me a multitude of things, Child."

"Who are you?" Taylorasked suspiciously, sitting down where the woman had indicated.

"I am many things. The term you'd be most familiar with, is Witch Doctor. But you may call me Mama Severina," she smiled.

"A witch doctor?" Taylor repeated, sceptically.

Mama Severina nodded. "Yes, Child. I can see the scepticism in your aura, and yet you are a seer."

"Come again?" Taylor said, staring blankly.

"You speak with the spirits, Child. Few are blessed with that gift. Your aura speaks volumes. There are flames around your heart, indicating a great personal power, that you are an avatar of some kind – red for determination and strength, orange for courage, and yellow for an early spiritual development. Around you, your aura is a strong clear blue – that's good," she assured Taylor, seeing her startled expression. "It represents spiritual devotion, seeking truth. It's the colour of communication, and most importantly, the shade tells me that you are a person who is close to finding their purpose in life. And your blue is speckled with purple – you have found something in life that is greater than you."

Taylor sighed, "I'm not sure you'd call it a gift."

"You help the spirits during their most troublesome times. There are few in the world that have your gift. There are few in the world who have an aura as colourful as yours." She reached into her pocket and pulled something out, handing it to Taylor.

Taylor took the item. It was a silver dime with a hole in the middle, attached to a red ribbon. "What's this?" she asked, turning it over in her hand.

"Good gris-gris. It is no longer the good spirits who know about you now, Child." Taylor's hand flew up to her cheek – it was still quite tender. "That's right Child," Mama Severina nodded. "And as you've already noticed, the evil spirits don't need to be from the dead to hurt you. But I sense a change a-coming. Remember, everything happens for a reason."

Taylor frowned. "So I keep getting told. What change?"

"I'm sorry, Child, but I do not know. I can only feel the winds of change." She shut her eyes and lifted her head, as though she was feeling a breeze against her face. "Change is a-coming," she repeated. "As is danger. Not just for you, but those you are close to. Your aura tells me of a conflict – love."

Taylor let out a long, drawn out sigh. "Mama Severina, with all due respect, I'm haunted by the dead – love gets a second seat when you're interrupted by the bloody image of a person."

With her eyes still shut, Mama Severina smiled. "Take care, Child. Don't fight your feelings – love only makes you stronger."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Love makes you stronger?" she repeated. But she didn't get an answer – Mama Severina was asleep.

. . .

Taylor was back at the lab. She was sat a computer, whilst Danny was analysing the trace he and Lindsay had found on Marie's (the little girl) clothes. Since she had been back, she had been visited again by Marie, and she assumed she would until her father had been brought to justice. As the girl didn't tell her anything, or give her any clues, she had decided to research cults, sacrifices, and anything else Google could match.

Stella and Flack were busy interviewing Mrs Leveau, and from the looks of things, it was going to take a while. They had called in a psychologist to observe her, and so far, the verdict was that she was too crazy to stand trial.

"Come on, let's call it a night," said Danny suddenly, ripping his gloves off.

"I'm fine," Taylor told him, stubbornly.

"So am I, but if we don't finish now, we won't be able to go out for those drinks," Danny pointed out.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "I thought we told you it was a girly night."

"And I told you I was fine with that."

"Fine," she agreed, even though she had every intention of not going.

Danny smirked at her. "See, that wasn't so hard."

Taylor pulled off her gloves and walked out of the room. "See you later," she told him. As she left the Crime Lab her bag started ringing. She pulled out her cell phone – it was Lindsay.

"_You still on for that drink?_"

"I don't know," Taylor responded as she made her way down the steps. "I'm pretty beat."

"_Please?_" Lindsay begged._ "I'll even get the first few rounds._"

"I'm not sure, Lindsay. All I can think about is this case."

"_Ah, come on, just a few. You need something to take you mind off it. Besides, otherwise I'm stuck with Danny and his smirking all evening._"

"Wow, that's all the convincing I need," Taylor moaned.

"_Is that a yes?_"

"I guess," she agreed. "But I don't want a late night."

"_Deal. Can you be ready for 8?_"

"That'd be fine. Where?"

"_Squares. Danny said 9, so we get an hour to drink a suitable amount to make him a little less painful._"

Taylor laughed. "This is going to be a big night, isn't it?"

"_See you in an hour!_" Lindsay responded.


	32. No Such Thing As Too Much Tequila

**Chapter 31: There's No Such Thing As Too Much Tequila**

Taylor stepped into her apartment and headed straight for her bedroom. Maybe a night out was exactly what she needed – she could drink herself into a state of not remembering – a couple of shots of tequila should be enough.

She headed to her closet and pulled out her outfit of choice: long black boots, black skirt, and a turquoise, black and white patterned halter-neck, laying it out on the bed. She had a quick shower and got dried and dressed. She was done with her hair and make-up in record time, and grabbing her purse and a jacket, she was back out of the door and hailing a taxi in just over half an hour.

Taylor paid the driver and went inside the bar, and not spotting Lindsay, she headed straight to the bar. Lindsay arrived just as the barman came over. "Hey, what do you want?" she asked her.

"A bottle of Budweiser, please," Lindsay told her and the barman.

"And I'll have a Smirnoff Ice, please," Taylor paid for the drinks and the two headed for a booth in the back. "Anyone would think we were trying to hide from Danny."

"Chance would be a fine thing," grumbled Lindsay.

"Is there something I should know about?" Taylor asked her, raising her eyebrows suggestively as she took a mouthful of drink.

"Not very stiff, is it?"

Taylor nearly choked on her drink. "What? Danny?"

Lindsay, who had just taken a large mouthful, ended up spraying a large part of it over the floor. "I meant the drink!"

The two looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Is this the direction the night's heading? Because at this rate, we are going to be hopelessly drunk by the time Danny gets here, and he's not going to know what hit him," said Taylor, wiping away a tear that was streaking down her face.

"I think that's the intention," gasped Lindsay, who was in a similar state. "So how are you dealing with this case?"

Taylor quickly sobered up. "In all honesty, not too good. It was a child, Lindsay. I still can't get past that. And her mother was so blasé about killing her own daughter – like the girl deserved it."

"Cases with children are officially the worst," Lindsay agreed. "But I don't get why you're working it, Taylor. It's not your job."

"Not my paid one," Taylor muttered, taking a swig of her drink. Lindsay sighed. "Don't worry about it, Linds. I know you don't believe, and that's alright. It's a strange thing to get your head around, and I don't want to end up arguing with you like I do Flack."

"What's the deal with you and Flack then?" asked Lindsay, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, please," scoffed Taylor. "There's as much chance of something happening between us two, as there is between you and Danny."

Lindsay went red and looked away. "So what is the deal with you and Flack? Why don't you like him?"

"Oh, no you don't," cried Taylor. "I saw that look! You're not getting out of this one. You like Danny!" she accused, using the bottle neck to point at Lindsay.

"No!" she objected. "He's as annoying as hell, and if he calls me Montana one more time, I swear I'm going to stick him in my trunk, drive him there and abandon him." She sighed, picking at the label on her bottle. "But, I will say he's a little easy on the eye."

Taylor laughed. "I knew it. You can cut the sexual tension between you with a knife. Actually, forget that, you could beat it with a large stick. But I will give you that, he is good looking."

Lindsay nodded. "The problem is he knows it."

"Oh, I saw him working the lab assistants earlier." Taylor took another large mouthful of her drink. "Although, if you think about it, your whole team looks like they stepped off the front page of GQ magazine. Hell, you're a bit of a looker yourself, Lindsay."

Lindsay clinked her bottle against Taylor's. "You're not so bad yourself." The two fell about laughing again.

"So, you and Danny, eh?" Taylor said, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Erm, no," Lindsay scoffed. "He winds me up something chronic."

"He's a male," Taylor shrugged. "His mental age never got past fourteen. You know, boys pick on girls they like."

"Don't be stupid. He's a grown man," Lindsay retorted, pulling a face.

"A grown man who calls you Montana," Taylor said, dryly.

"I kind of like it, actually. But," added Lindsay, as Taylor burst out laughing again. "Don't tell him that!"

Taylor shook her head. "Okay, hold that thought. I'm going to the bar."

"I haven't finished this one yet," Lindsay pointed out. "Neither have you."

Taylor grabbed her bottle and finished off the remaining half. "Now I have, and I expect yours finished when I return," she told Lindsay, who was gaping at her. She returned a short while later carrying a tray with several shots, limes, and a few more bottles each.

"What on earth have you got there?" Lindsay asked, eyeing the tray warily.

"Two shots of tequila, two Alabama Slammers, and you have a bottle of Bud, and I have two Smirnoff Ices."

"Taylor, I have work tomorrow," Lindsay told her, pulling a face.

"I know, that's why I only bought you one beer," Taylor said, setting the bottles down on the table. "But just remember, you were the one who was adamant that we were going out tonight.

"Taylor!" Lindsay exclaimed.

"Lindsay, I have had one really hard day, and I intend on getting so drunk that it's not going to haunt my dreams tonight. And I know full well that you don't have to be in until 2, tomorrow. Besides, Danny will be here in half an hour, and you aren't nearly drunk enough."

Lindsay glanced at her watch and downed the two shots before Taylor had even taken them off the tray. After screwing up her face, and sucking on the lime, she downed the remains of her first beer. "You have some catching up to do."

Taylor rubbed her hands together mischievously. "We have to go out with Maddy sometime – she'll love your drinking abilities." And then she did her own shots.

As Taylor was busy pulling a face at the tequila, Lindsay gave her a coy smile. "What is the deal with you and Flack."

Taylor pulled a face. "Let's just say we have a few creative issues when it comes to ghosts."

"So do we," Lindsay pointed out.

"Yeah, but… I don't know," Taylor shrugged. "We just can't seem to be in a room without arguing."

"Well, you know, boys pick on girls they like," Lindsay informed her with a grin.

"Touché," laughed Taylor. "So where's your eye candy?" she asked, changing the subject.

Lindsay glanced at her watch. "Maybe he's not coming."

"Is that disappointment I hear?" Taylor asked.

"Disappointment about what?"

Taylor looked up to find Danny standing over them, she turned to look at Lindsay and the two of them burst out laughing again. "That you hadn't arrived here yet," said Taylor, whilst Lindsay said, "That you weren't bringing someone else with you."

The two looked at each other, and on their way to being quite drunk, laughed a little harder. "That you hadn't got here yet," said Lindsay.

"That you didn't bring a friend along," said Taylor at the same time. The two laughed even harder. Taylor leant over the table, sending a shot glass flying in the process, and clamped her hand over Lindsay's mouth. "That you weren't here yet, and you hadn't bought someone else along for us to torment." Lindsay spluttered from underneath Taylor's hand, making Taylor remove it and slump back into the booth chair.

Danny was looking at the two women with a mixture of bewilderment, amusement, and horror. "Shove up, Montana, and let me sit down."

As Danny pushed Lindsay over, Taylor stopped laughing long enough to pout at him and say. "Aw, is there a reason why you won't sit next to me?"

"Yeah," smirked Danny. "The fact that Lindsay seems a little more sober than you do." He leant over and picked the shot glass off the floor and placed it on the table, as if to prove a point. "So, you were getting upset 'cause you didn't think I'd show?"

"Where's your drink?" asked Lindsay. "Or… you called me Lindsay!"

Danny shrugged. "That's some quick observation skills you've got going. The barman is gonna bring it over. Although I asked him to repeat the round you just had. He may take a while by the looks of things. Explains the look on his face when I asked."

"Aw, bless. But we'll let you do the shots, so you can catch up," Taylor assured him.

"And going back to the unanswered question, you guys were getting upset I wasn't going to show?"

"No," said Taylor, noticing Lindsay's cheeks getting redder. "I was getting upset."

Danny smirked again. "Is there something you want to tell me, Drew?"

"Your drinks are here," she told him nonchalantly, indicating the barman who was just reaching the table.

Danny looked at the drinks in front of him. "This was one round?"

"She's like a goldfish," Lindsay nodded.

"Did you know goldfish don't actually drink alcohol… or anything, really, as they're fish," Taylor paused with a frown. "And, actually, even if they did, they wouldn't drink much considering they're so small."

Lindsay and Danny stared at her, and Lindsay started laughing again. "Let me at those shots," groaned Danny, grabbing the two tequilas and drinking them, without the lime, and then polished off the other two shots. He turned to Lindsay who was clutching at her sides, "So, if Taylor is wanting me, does that mean you were wanting someone else here?"

Lindsay's laughing turned to coughing, and again Taylor jumped in. "No, that was me too."

"You were wanting me, and someone else?" he asked incredulously.

Taylor looked at Lindsay, mouth flapping open and shut. "She's not exactly sober enough to be thinking straight, is she," Lindsay bailed her out.

Danny looked between the two women, then shrugged. "Whatever," he said, grabbing a beer. "I guess it's a good thing I asked a friend to come along later, then."

"Good," said Taylor. "Because I didn't want to end up spending the evening feeling like a spare leg." She leaned over, grabbed Danny's face with both hands and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Come on, Lindsay, let's go dance." She grabbed one of her bottles, downed the entire contents, and headed off to the small, almost empty, dance floor, without even waiting.

She was joined by Lindsay, a few minutes later, "Danny thinks you're crazy, by the way," she was told, as the two danced to the funky RnB music that was playing. "And less of the spare leg comments."

Taylor just smiled, and the two remained on the dance floor for a few songs. "Do you think we left Danny alone too long?" asked Lindsay, as another song kicked in.

"Missing him already?" Taylor teased.

"No, just concerned we left our purses with him."

Taylor pulled a face. "Okay, I guess, but we're dragging him up here later!" she shouted back over the music.

"You think he can dance?"

"I don't know, but we'll either be pleasantly surprised, or very amused," she told her, as they headed back. "I'm going to the bathroom first, I'll see you there," she wiggled her eyebrows again, and dodged Lindsay's swipe as she veered off in the other direction.

She manoeuvred her way back a few minutes later. Danny was sat facing her, trapped on the inside of the booth by Lindsay who was laughing at something he'd said, whilst opposite Danny, with his back to her, was Danny's 'friend'.

"Oh, please don't be," she muttered, seeing a familiar head of hair. It was. "Flack," she offered, by way of greeting, as she sat down.

"Taylor?" he returned, before looking over at Danny, who shrugged.

"What? I asked if you wanted to come for a few drinks with some guys from work."

"I thought you meant Mac, or Stella. You know, someone who actually worked with us?" Flack told him.

"You expected Mac and Stella here?" asked Lindsay in surprise.

"Let's play a game," declared Taylor, moving off the topic.

"What game?" asked Lindsay, suspiciously.

"Something simple to start with," said Taylor. "I know, we each say two things, one true, one false, you know that one?"

The three nodded. "What's the catch?" asked Danny.

"For every person that guesses which statement is true, the person who said it must do a shot. And each person who guesses the false statement, they've got to do a shot too."

"I don't know," said Flack, warily.

"You chicken?" Danny taunted him.

Flack glared at him, before wafting his arm. "Whatever."

"Great," said Taylor, "I'll go get some alcohol." She bounded off to the bar and returned a short time later with a full bottle of tequila, and a pot full of limes.

"How much are you expecting us to drink?" exclaimed Lindsay.

"Did you just buy a bottle of tequila?" asked Flack, staring at the bottle in disbelief.

Taylor shrugged. "It depends how good at the game you are, as to how much you drink, and I made a deal with Kyle."

"Who's Kyle?" Lindsay asked suspiciously.

"Oh, he's the barman," Taylor responded lightly.

"Oh yeah?" leered Danny.

"Danny Messer, for that assumption you have to drink a penalty shot," she told him, pouring out a generous shot and pushing it his direction. "No, the deal was, I'd pay him for what we drank after we drank it," she explained as Danny took the shot.

"How did you manage that?" asked Lindsay.

Taylor smiled. "My little secret. So who's going first?"


	33. Or Maybe You Can Drink Too Much Tequila

_05/06/2006_

**Chapter 32: Or Maybe You Can Drink Too Much Tequila **

"I will," declared Danny, taking the bottle and pouring out three shots. "I am allergic to penicillin, or, I could have been a baseball pro."

"The penicillin one," said Lindsay, after taking a moment to study Danny.

Taylor scoffed. "A baseball pro. Everyone _could_ have been a baseball pro. I agree with Lindsay."

"Are you kidding?" Flack asked the two women incredulously. "You two haven't spent enough time with him. The amount of times I've heard about how he was headed to the big leagues."

"Drink up ladies," said Danny, grabbing one of the glasses, followed quickly by a lime. The other two did the same, all of them pulling the a similar face afterwards.

"You were seriously set to go professional?" Taylor asked in disbelief.

"Until the scouts realised he had no aim," laughed Flack.

He was rewarded by a slice of lime in his face for sharing that piece of information. "How's that for no aim?"

"Alright, my go," said Lindsay, taking her turn to pour the shots. "Number one, I used to work as a cowgirl during the summer months when I was in high school, and college. Number two, I have a tattoo."

"Cowgirl," Danny, Flack and Taylor all agreed unanimously. The three of them looked expectantly at Lindsay.

She shrugged. "Way to pick the stereotype. Drink up," she laughed as the three of them pulled faces at the taste of the alcohol.

"My go," said Taylor, refilling the glasses. "When I was seven, I sneaked onto the USS Nimitz so I could spend time with my dad, they didn't find me until we had already left the port, and I had to be flown back to dry land, or I never learnt how to drive."

"I've never seen you drive," mused Lindsay. "I'm going to go with that one."

"That's a good point, Montana," agreed Danny. "I'll take option two, too."

Flack shrugged. "You always seem to be running around."

Taylor nodded, and then pushed the glasses away from her. "It was the first one."

"You managed to sneak onto a navy vessel?" asked Lindsay in disbelief.

"Yup," Taylor nodded proudly. "I hid in my dad's bunk. He found me when he went to bed, and by that time, we were a good thirty miles from shore. Mamma was furious when I eventually got back, and I was grounded for a month, but I didn't care, because I got to fly in a helicopter. Your go, detective," she said, pushing the bottle towards Flack.

He took the bottle of her and poured another round of shots. "My best friend when I was little, was my pet cat, Charlie, or, I acted in some cold flu medicine commercials when I was a kid." He looked at Taylor, waiting for her to guess first.

Taylor stared at him and frowned. "Cat."

Lindsay gave a small giggle. "The first case I worked on with you was at the zoo, in the tiger cage. All you did was sneeze. The second one."

Danny joined her in the sniggering. "I heard you tell Mac you had allergies." He laughed harder, "You were a model?"

"Unfair advantage," complained Taylor. "Can I change my guess?"

"Like hell you can," said Flack, sending a glass in her direction. "If I have to drink this stuff, then you damn well will to," he told her, drinking both shots before grabbing a lime.

Taylor took hers and downed it. She leaned back in the chair. "I think I am now drunk."

"Now drunk?" scoffed Danny. "You were drunk when I got here."

"Maybe so, but I carried on drinking," she retorted over Flack and Lindsay's laughter. "Let's play another game."

"I don't know if I can take more tequila," Lindsay moaned.

"Nah, no more tequila," agreed Danny.

"No, just Truth or Dare. One go each," she looked between them. "Who wants to go first?"

"Spin the bottle!" cried Lindsay, as she both knocked and placed a bottle onto its side.

"Works for me," Danny agreed.

"Who spins first?" asked Flack, rolling his eyes.

Taylor shrugged. "Who did the most shots?" The others looked at her obviously with no clue. "I guess we're all a bit drunk."

"I'll go first," said Flack, spinning the bottle. The top lay pointing at Danny. "Truth or Dare?" Flack asked him.

Danny thought about it for a minute. "Dare. Let's get this ball moving."

Flack grinned. "Alright, I dare you to walk up to a woman in this bar, and give her a kiss. A proper one, mind."

Danny glared at Flack then shrugged. He turned to Lindsay and planted his lips on hers.

"Danny, he said give her a kiss, not get a room," Taylor laughed a minute later when they were still kissing, after she had pulled out her phone and got an unnoticed picture of their activity.

Danny broke away, sat back in his seat and licked his lips, before reaching for his beer. "Couldn't be bothered getting up," he told them after he had had a drink, ignoring Lindsay, who was staring at him with a pink face.

"Danny, just spin the bottle," said Taylor, rolling her eyes at him.

Danny shot her a look and reached for the bottle, giving it a sharp twist. It spun around a dozen times before it came to a rest pointing at Lindsay. "Truth," she said, quickly.

"What did you think of the kiss?" he asked, taking another mouthful of beer, and continuing to look straight ahead, without looking the slightest bit phased.

"I, I, um, it was, um, I…"

"And," he interrupted. "What would you say to a possible repeat performance?"

Taylor glanced at the others. Flack was the only one who would look at her, the other two avoiding making any eye contact. He shrugged at her.

"PrettydamngoodandIsupposeare peatwouln'tbecompletetorture," she told him as quickly as possible.

"Huh?" asked Flack. Even Taylor barely caught that.

"I am not repeating myself," said Lindsay. Her face was now completely red.

"No need," smirked Danny. He leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Lindsay managed to do what Taylor thought was impossible and turned an even deeper red.

"Flack, let me spin the bottle and spare Lindsay," muttered Taylor in his ear. He nodded his response and Taylor spun the bottle. It landed on Danny. "Messer, give me a dare." She said, making him focus his attention back on the game.

"That's not how it works," Danny pointed out. "You ask me."

"I'm changing the rules," Taylor shrugged.

Danny held his hands up. "Fine. Go get us some more beers from the bar, without paying for them."

"Danny, that is the lamest excuse for a dare that I have ever heard." Taylor objected.

"Alright then, spin the bottle again. The next person it lands on you have to give a lap dance in the middle of the club. For a whole song," Danny said, his expression suggesting that she wouldn't do it.

"You know, I'm sure it would be more embarrassing for me to do it by myself," Taylor pointed out.

"Maybe," smirked Danny. "But it would be more entertaining for me, to watch you and one of these guys dancing around, than it would just you. Or are you chicken?"

"You're pretty confident it won't land on you."

"Well, if it does, I'll be entertained by you giving me a lap dance. Why you getting so worried about it? You gonna back out?"

Taylor smirked at him before spinning the bottle. It spun for ages before finally settling on someone; Lindsay. "Come on, my sexy lady," said Taylor, holding out her hand.

. . .

Danny licked his lips – Taylor and Lindsay were putting on a really good show. The majority of the bar had stopped to watch.

"They seem to be enjoying themselves a little too much," Flack muttered.

Danny shrugged. "Looks fine from where I'm sitting."

"Where the hell did Taylor learn those moves?"

Danny raised an eyebrow at his friend, which Flack caught as he turned his head back to the table in front of him. "Give it a rest, Messer. You're the one that kissed Lindsay."

"Yup," he agreed, smugly. "And I'd do it again too."

"Just ask her out, Messer. Save the lab and let them finish the pool they've got going on you two."

"There's a pool?"

"Yeah, it's up several hundred. Even Drew's in on it."

Danny nodded slowly. "Interesting. And nice going on the dare."

"Well someone had to make you make a move," Flack pointed out.

Danny shook his head. "I'm doing nothing serious when she's drunk."

Flack grinned. "She's got you, hasn't she?"

"Hook, line, and sinker. Tell anyone, and the next person you will be talking to will be Taylor, when you're dead."

Flack groaned. "Don't tell me you believe her too?"

Danny grew serious. "I'm not sure if she actually sees the ghosts, but I've felt one, Don."

Flack rolled his eyes, "Whatever."

. . .

"Nice moves you've got there, Drew." After the lap dance, Lindsay and Taylor had stayed out on the dance floor for a couple of songs, and had only just returned to them.

"Gee, thanks, Messer." Danny's response was to smirk at her. As Taylor glared at him, he winked at her.

Then he finished his beer, stretched out his arms, and somewhat obviously, wrapped his arm around Lindsay. "Your go, Lindsay," he declared, as though what he was doing was the most normal thing in the world.

Flushing, though not in any hurry to remove his arm, Lindsay reached out and quickly spun the bottle. It landed on Flack. "Truth."

Lindsay glanced between Flack and Taylor. Although the drinking had calmed the atmosphere somewhat, there was still a bit of noticeable tension between the two. "So what's the deal with you and Taylor? Why do you have issues?"

"I'm afraid you guys are going to have to hear the answer to that outside." The four looked up to see one of the barmen standing next to the table. "The bar closed half an hour ago, and we need you to settle up the tequila bill, so we can go home."

Taylor looked around. The place was empty apart from them. Even the tables were clean and any that had chairs next to them now had them stacked on top of them. They hadn't even noticed the lights had come up, and the music had stopped. Taylor shrugged and poured one last round of shots, then looked at the bottle. There was a quarter left. Laughing, she grabbed her credit card and followed the barman to the bar to settle up, leaving him a hefty tip.

She went back to the table. "One last shot for the road," she declared, pointing to the glasses. The four took the one last shot and pulled themselves out from the booth.

"Wait!" cried Danny, spotting one bottle that sat on the table, still with its drink in it. "There is a perfectly good bottle of Smirnoff Ice about to go to waste."

"I can't drink anymore," mumbled Lindsay.

Taylor leaned across and grabbed it, before tipping her head back and downing it in a matter of seconds. She banged the bottle on the table, and then put her jacket on and heading towards the door. She turned around as she reached it, to witness Danny, who still had his arm around Lindsay, stumble into a table and send the two chairs on it flying.

The four of them stared at each other, before running out of the door. They got to the end of the block, stopped, and burst out laughing. "Come on Lindsay, let's get you home," declared Taylor, as she slowly stopped laughing. "See you bright and early tomorrow, guys." She linked her arm through Lindsay's, and the two started walking away, bumping into each other the way that only drunken people do.

"Hold up!" cried Danny, stumbling after them. "You ladies can't walk home alone."

"Danny, we are purfecterly capable of walking home by ourselves," said Lindsay, firmly.

"Yes, we are strong, independent ladies who are capable of looking after ourselves," Taylor confirmed as the two of them stumbled into a wall.

"Yeah, looks like it," muttered Flack, as he joined them.

Lindsay leant against the wall. "I don't think I can walk home."

"Guess we're getting a cab then," Flack wandered over to the road and flagged down a passing yellow cab. He hopped in the back and scooted over.

Taylor and Danny helped Lindsay over, stumbling with her as they tried to support her between them. Taylor got in the car first, followed by Lindsay and then Danny. It was a tight squeeze, but they managed it. Lindsay leant over and gave the driver her address, before leaning over Danny and winding the window down. Finally, they reached Lindsay's apartment. "Wait here," said Danny, "I'll get her upstairs and inside and then I'll be back." He got out of the car, and helped Lindsay.

Taylor moved over, shut the door and wound the window up. She leant back, and slipped on the leather, so she was lying down.

"Is she okay back there?" asked the driver, glaring at them in the mirror. "Because if she pukes you're payin'."

"I'm fine," sang Taylor. "I don't throw up on alcohol."

Flack rolled his eyes, trying to look disapprovingly at her, whilst, at the same time, trying not to laugh at her. He decided to compromise by pulling her over to him and into a semi-sitting position. An interesting feat considering he was also very drunk.

"Nope, not ready for sitting yet," she told him, and lay back down, using his legs as a pillow. Flack glanced out the window. When he looked back, she was fast asleep, or at least had passed out. He glanced back out of the other window and noticed Danny running over.

Danny opened the door. "You guys go." Flack raised an eyebrow at him. "She's puking her guts up. I'm gonna make sure she gets into bed without drowning in her own vomit. The last thing I want is to get called out here tomorrow morning and have a lecture off Mac. The head will be pounding already without that one." He shut the door and ran back into the building.

Flack glanced down at his lap. "Hey, Taylor!" He prodded her. "Yo! Taylor! You alive?"

"Mt. Hope," she mumbled.

"Mt. Hope?" Flack laughed. "You ain't in California anymore."

"Where you going pal?" the taxi driver asked impatiently.

Flack studied the woman sprawled across him. His place was closer, and he was certain that he, like Danny, shouldn't leave her alone. "Mine, by the looks of things," he told him, giving him his address.

Ten minutes later, they had pulled up outside his. He fished out a bunch of notes and handed them over to the driver, before grabbing Taylor's purse, getting out of the car, then picking her up and carrying her. Not without banging his head on the car door first.

He carried her in the building and into the elevator, extremely grateful it was working for once, before managing to get her into his apartment. He stumbled into the bedroom, almost dropping her on the bed. He sat down next to her and rubbed his eyes. He looked over at the clock. It was just after two. Despite the fact he'd actually enjoyed himself, he was going to feel like crap tomorrow. And, with the amount of alcohol he'd had, he probably wouldn't even remember it. Tequila always had that effect on him.

He pulled off his shoes and tie, then turned to Taylor and pulled of her boots. He had flung them on the floor, in the general direction of his, when Taylor's eyes fluttered open. She smiled at him. "You never answered the question," she told him, trying hard to stop him spinning.

"What question?" he asked her, confused.

"The one Lindsay asked. Why do you have issues with me? I mean, it's not like I choose to see ghosts, and I know you think I'm crazy, but that's no reason to be so mea-" Taylor's eyes shot open as Flack's lips pressed on hers.


	34. The Morning After The Night Before

_06/06/2006_

**Chapter 33: The Morning After The Night Before**

Taylor awoke the following morning, lying on her stomach, head buried under the pillow, to the piercing sound of the phone ringing. She reached out and fumbled around on the bedside table, trying to place her hand on the landline, without bothering to open her eyes. "Y'ello," she groaned.

There was a pause down the phone, "_Taylor?_"

"Mac?" Taylor raised her other arm out from under the pillow and glanced at her watch. It was just after 5am. "What are you doing calling at this god forsaken hour? Is anything wrong?"

There was a long pause again. "_The vic from your case. We pulled another girl from the Hudson – same MO._"

"Let me get a shower and I'll be straight in."

"_Alright._" There was another pause. "_Will you tell Flack too_."

Taylor frowned, why should she call him? Surely that was Mac's job? Or at least Dispatch's? "Yeah, sure," she muttered, before hanging up the phone.

Instead of getting up, she flopped her head back on the pillow. She'd been in bed for something around three hours and she was still tired. As she shut her eyes, she became aware of the fact that she was still in the top she went out in last night. At least she had the privilege of an en-suite bathroom and wouldn't have to face the potential embarrassment of facing her flatmate on the way to the bathroom.

And then she was aware of something else. A third hand. Which, as she stirred, pulled her closer to the body behind her. Pretty certain she hadn't grown a Siamese twin during the night, she slowly turned her head. And screamed.

Flack's eye shot wide open, and his hand flew off Taylor, and over his ears. "What the hell are you doing in my bed?" he yelled, as he jumped out of it.

"Your bed? It's my bed?" Taylor yelled back, trying to leave the bed. Unfortunately, she got her feet caught up in the sheets and fell backwards off the bed, landing heavily on her back. "Umph!" was the sound that escaped her mouth as she landed. "Okay, my bed is higher than this. It hurts more when you fall out of it," she moaned. Her eyes were clamped tightly shut.

"What the hell are you doing in my bed?" Flack repeated.

Taylor looked up and saw him on his bed glaring down at her. Taylor looked at him, then at her bare legs, which were half on, half off the bed, tangled up in the bed sheets. "What the hell _am_ I doing in your bed?"

"I just asked you that."

"Now we all know why you decided to become a detective. Good at detecting things, aren't you?" Taylor snarked back at him.

Flack groaned then fell back on his bed. "I have a hangover from hell. The last thing I need is you getting sarcastic."

"You have a hangover?" Taylor asked in surprise. "Really? I feel fine."

"Bull," Flack responded, bluntly.

"No, really. I don't get hangovers. I just don't get much sleep." She tried to pull herself to her feet, but, still not being quite the level of sober needed, and being well and truly tied up in the bed sheets, she lost her balance and fell back on the floor. "Okay… I'm still drunk. Hey, Flack, wanna give me a hand here?" she called.

"Not really," came back his muffled reply. He had stuck a pillow over his head, hoping the feathers would numb the pounding in his head. It wasn't working.

"Fine. I'll stay on your floor, and try and come up with a suitable response for your girlfriend as to why I'm tied up in your sheets on your floor."

"I don't have a girlfriend," Flack corrected her, his voice still muffled.

"Fine, boyfriend. Same difference," Taylor shrugged.

"Trust me when I say, I'd notice the difference."

Taylor snorted. "Judging from last night, you wouldn't notice anything."

"Taylor, shut the hell up. I don't need another headache at the moment," he complained, still from under his pillow.

"You're really grumpy when you're hungover," Taylor pointed out, matter-of-factly.

"How the hell did you manage to drink so much and remain so damn perky."

"I told you, I don't get hangovers. Jesus, not only are you grumpy, your short term memory stops working too." Flack's response was to mutter a long stream of expletives into his pillow. "Charming." Taylor shut her eyes again. "You know, other than the fact I desperately need to brush my teeth because it feels like I didn't last night and something crawled into my mouth and died, it's actually quite comfortable here. I never took you for a carpet man. Thought you'd have wooden floors, but you proved," Taylor stopped and opened her eyes.

Flack had clamped one of his hands around her calf, and was tugging at the bed sheet. "What the hell did you do last night? Wrap yourself in a cocoon?" he demanded.

Taylor shrugged. "As if I remember anything. Your hands are cold."

"Yeah, well, by the looks of things, someone stole all the covers."

"I have the whole butterfly thing going on. You know, emerging beautiful. You gotta admit, I don't look too bad in the morning. Especially after the amount we drank last night. I remember everything up until the tequila shots. From the bottle I got from the bar. Oh my god, I managed to get a bottle from behind the bar. Ugh, I walked behind it and grabbed it too. Bribed the barman by giving him my number. Well, at least he won't be calling me. I bet we caused some damage in-"

"Taylor!" yelled Flack, and then wincing at his own voice. "Do you need to talk so much? It's bugging the hell outta me."

"What is your obsession with hell?" she asked him, watching him struggle to detangle her.

"Right now, I feel like I'm in it. My head is killing me. And if I use anything other than hell, right now, I'm going to end up using the same words at some granny later today."

Taylor laughed. "You keep with your obsession then. You know, perhaps an animal crawled into your head and died."

"Damn it," he cursed. "I wish I didn't have a headache. Then I could tune you out like I normally do."

Taylor's mouth fell open. "You know how to make a girl feel special. Have you been taking tips from Danny? Because he," she trailed off, a grin slowly spreading across her face. "Flack, pass me my phone!"

"I am trying to untangle you!" he told her, through gritted teeth.

"Please! Trust me, you'll like this!"

He sighed. "Where is it?" He got up and started walked around to Taylor's side of the bed, in a line that was anything but straight.

"I don't know," Taylor glanced around the room. Being on the floor, she couldn't see much, but she could tell the room looked like a bomb went off. "I knew I was messy, but Flack, this room is a tip and why the hell are you wearing just your boxers?" she squealed as she looked over at him. How had she not noticed that body before? _No_! That wasn't the right thing to be thinking. How had she not noticed he was wearing very little earlier? Better.

Flack glanced down at himself smirked at her. "What? Never seen a guy in his underwear before?"

"Not with a body," she froze.

"No, go on," he urged, smirking again.

Taylor pointed at him, her mouth open to say something, but he'd got her there. "Have you found my cell yet?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"Do you see anything in my hands?" he asked, waving them at her.

"Oh, now who's getting sarcastic?" Taylor asked, rolling her eyes.

"Looks like you're rubbing off on me then," Flack retorted.

"I don't know," Taylor shrugged. "Looks more like your clothes got rubbed off."

Flack looked around the room. "Judging from this mess, I'd say torn off."

The two looked at each other. "Alright, we're are about to step onto very dangerous territory here. How about you just pass me your phone?"

Flack nodded in agreement, reached down and grabbed his pants and pulled his cellphone from out of the pocket, tossing it to Taylor. "Knock yourself out."

"I was going for your land line, but this will work." She typed her number in and hit dial. From the other side of the room, Britney Spears started blasting out _(You Drive Me) Crazy._

"Hang up," Flack groaned, as he stumbled over to the other side of the room, grabbed the phone and collapsed on the bed. "Britney Spears?"

Taylor hung up. "Just toss it over here." She caught the phone and began looking through it for something. Finding what she was after, she burst out laughing. "I knew I didn't imagine it! Catch." She flung her phone at Flack who caught it and stared in disbelief.

"How can I not remember this?" he asked, cracking up. "Wait 'til I see Danny." It was the picture she'd taken the night before of Lindsay and Danny. "Do you think they'll remember what happened?"

"Flack, I hate to state the obvious, but we don't remember what happened."

"I don't think anything happened!" Flack quickly told her.

"I wasn't talking about that. Clearly nothing happened. We're still wearing our underwear, and I'm still tangled up in your sheets," she hinted.

Flack returned to trying to untangle the sheets. "Look," he said. "I think it might be for the best if we don't mention this to anyone."

"What? Me being tied to your bed?" Taylor asked, her eyes wide. "Are you kidding me? I have one up on Danny at the moment. I want it to stay like that."

"Good." He looked at Taylor who was biting her lip. "What?"

"I… I don't think we have any choice in the matter," she realised.

"What are you talking about?" Flack asked, warily.

"Um, Mac rang and told me that we had to get in as soon as possible."

"Did you tell him you were here?"

"I didn't have to. He rang your phone," she told him, pointing to the one on his bedside table.

"Mac wouldn't say anything?" he asked doubtfully.

Taylor shrugged. "You're asking me? You've known him longer."

"No, he wouldn't. There you go." Finally she was free.

"I do think we would be better keeping on his good side, though. Which means we should get to the hospital as soon as. Where's your shower?" She got to her feet and looked around for her skirt

Flack shook his head. "Ha, I'm getting in it first."

"And they say chivalry is dead. Just hurry up," Taylor moaned.

Flack stopped and glared at her. "You're telling me to hurry up in my own shower?"

"God, is your hangover affecting your hearing as well?" Taylor asked in frustration. Flack glared at her and stormed off. Taylor turned her attention to the room, picking up the clothing, and making the bed, in the process of gathering up a few of her things.

She headed out of the bedroom and across the open planned living room and dining room, stopping to look at the various photographs as she went. Flack as a kid, with his family, a work photo with the CSIs, although Lindsay wasn't in it. There was another woman there, who had her arm wrapped around Danny. It must have been taken a fair while ago as Flack had longer hair.

The dining table was piled with laundry, ready to be ironed. Next to that pile was a pile of chemistry and biology books. Taylor picked up one of the chemistry text books and leafed through it. It contained stuff she'd covered in college. She picked up another book. It was a forensic textbook, and in it words and procedures had been underlined, with notes next to it in what Taylor recognised as Flack's neat writing.

She smiled and headed into the kitchen. He was taking ages, and she was bored, so, spotting the coffee maker, turned it on. Personally, she only drank it when she needed to stay awake, but Flack struck her as a person who wouldn't be able to function normally without coffee, let alone hungover.

Thinking about that, she rooted through his cupboards and found a box of aspirin. She left it on the side next to a mug she had plucked from the draining board. Then she turned her attention to the fridge. Steak, bacon, sausages, eggs, underneath containers of leftover cooked pasta, rice, and various other things. And then there was the fruit and vegetables. He had enough there to feed a family of rabbits for a very long time. And enough beer to re-sink the Titanic.

She pulled out the orange juice and shut the door. Taking a glass of it into the other room she settled down in front of the television and started flicking through the channels. She had managed to channel surf for about three minutes when Flack walked in, only wearing a towel. "Do you ever wear clothes in your own house?" she asked him.

"Anything interesting on?" he asked instead, nodding at the television.

"Not really. And I'm going in the shower now," Taylor told him, turning it off.

Flack grabbed a towel off his table and flung it at her. "You'll need this."

Taylor smiled and headed into the bathroom. She took off her watch and jumped in. She stared at all his shower products and smiled. He had more lined up across his bath than she did at all. And that was when she included her make-up. She grabbed a bottle and had a quick shower – the hot water lasted long enough to pick the shower gel up.

As she got out and wrapped herself up in the towel, she looked at his sink, and at his toothbrush. Ignoring the fact he had just used it, she borrowed it anyway – anything was better than the morning-after taste of stale tequila and lime.

Washed and redressed in the same clothes, she left the shower to find that he was dressed in a clean blue shirt and dark blue suit, and was stood in front of a mirror fastening his tie. Which was orange. She chuckled and went to the table, plucking out a silver and blue one. "Are you colour blind, or is that just the beer goggles?"

Flack pulled a face at her and switched the ties. "Thanks for the coffee, by the way."

"Feel guilty for using up all the hot water then?" she asked him, taking control of tying the tie.

"No. Not really. Are you wearing the same clothes to work?" he asked, after giving her appearance the once over.

"Flack, I have no other clothes here. But the only other option is to borrow some of your clothes and everything would hang off me."

"Whatever. And call me Don," he added.

"Ah, so a night in your bed, and we're on first name terms," she noted with a grin.

"Yeah, still not had enough coffee yet." He grabbed his jacket and put it on. "Are you ready?" He picked up his badge, gun and wallet, and made to go for his car keys.

"Don't even think about it," Taylor told him slowly.

"What?"

"Do you want me to get a breath analyser out?" she asked, her hands making her way to her hips.

"Do you have one?" he asked, jerking his head about slightly.

"Not the point, Flack. You are still over the limit and there is no way I am letting you in a car."

Flack glared at her. "So how are we going to get there?"

"You have these two things attached to you called legs," she told him, pointing to her own. "Let's try using them today."

"I thought Mac wanted us as soon as possible?"

"Yeah, but it's already after six thirty, _because_ someone took forever in the bathroom. What's an extra twenty minutes gonna do. Besides, it's better to get there alive and late, than getting there and ending up on a morgue slab," she pointed out.

"And what about getting back?"

Taylor threw her arms up in the air. "I live a couple of blocks from the lab. I will personally drive you home after work, Flack."

"I thought I told you to call me Don?" he asked with a frown.

"I'll make a deal with you. I'll call you Don when you're not being a jerk. Now hurry up." She ushered him out of his apartment and out of the building. "If I can manage to walk in these heels, you can walk fine."

"Taylor, the headache is still here and you are not doing anything to relieve it." Taylor nodded and walked up to a street vendor selling hot dogs. "I don't think they'll help this early in the morning."

Taylor just pulled a face at him and bought a bottle of water. She thrust the bottle at him and carried on walking. "You should try and drink a bottle for every unit you've drank. Get started, it may take a while," she told him, before tucking into the hot dog.

They walked in silence for a while. "Who on earth wants to eat hot dogs at this time in a morning?" Flack muttered.


	35. When The Sick Get Sicker

_06/06/2006_

**Chapter 34: When The Sick Get Sicker**

"You smell."

"Excuse me?" Taylor turned her head to find Danny looking over her shoulder. They had eventually gotten to the river (Flack was acting like a bear with a sore head for the entire walk) in time for them to witness another little girl being pulled from the water. Like Marie, this one appeared to have suffered the same fate, and she looked about the same age. Now, Taylor was back at the lab, waiting for Stella to return from the autopsy.

"You smell," he repeated.

"Gee, thanks, Danny," Taylor grumbled, glaring at him.

"No, I mean normally you don't smell of anything except some faint hint of shampoo. But now you smell. Of something," he added, thoughtfully.

"Something?" Taylor pressed.

"Yeah," he told her, his face screwed up in thought. "A scent." His expression suddenly changed to one of recognition and something bordering on pleasure. "You smell of Flack."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Keep dreaming Messer."

She was saved from further questioning by Stella entering the room. She sighed as she sat down. "Exactly the same MO. And I've just come from DNA. Leveau's DNA was found, as were the same five donors, like before, and one of them also has seven alleles in common with the vic."

"Is he in the system?" Danny asked, looking thoroughly disgusted.

"No," sighed Stella. "Jane ran all the samples and only Leveau is." She dropped his rap sheet on the table.

Taylor rubbed her eyes – she felt so helpless – and stared at the picture. Leveau was the same ghost who had hit her, and asked her to stop him. She gasped.

"Are you're alright?" Stella asked her.

"He's dead," Taylor told her.

"I'm sorry?" Stella said, frowning.

"His ghost," Taylor explained, pointing at the photograph. "He came to visit me yesterday."

"Taylor, his semen was only a few hours old. He can't possibly be dead," Stella told her gently.

Taylor frowned. Maybe they weren't the same person. She hadn't had much sleep, after all. She shrugged. "Maybe I'm wrong."

"Have your ghosts given us anything new to go on?" Danny asked.

Taylor sighed and shook her head. "They're so young. They're scared. I don't even think they know what's happening to them."

Stella laid a hand on her shoulder. "Up until now, we've solved case after case without the help of a ghost. We'll do it with this one if we need to."

. . .

911 – CAN YOU MEET FOR COFFEE ASAP. Taylor read the text and replied, telling Lindsay she'd meet her in Starbucks in ten minutes. Lindsay was already there, nursing her head in her hands. "What's up?" Taylor asked as she sat down.

Lindsay rested her head against the table. "Somebody shoot me now," she groaned into the table. She lifted her head slightly. "How is it you're fine when you've had less sleep, your own bed, and more alcohol?"

Taylor rubbed her forehead, guiltily . "About that. Only some of it's true."

Lindsay's head shot up. She winced at the pain. "Wait. I got out of the taxi before you, which means I got to bed before you. You definitely had more alcohol than me, and as you're still in last night's clothes, that leaves the bed option. Danny passed out on my couch, so that means, unless you hooked up with some random, you ended up at Flack's."

Taylor looked away. "It's times like this when it gets annoying that all my friends, these days, are CSIs."

"What happened?" Lindsay demanded.

"I don't know. I only vaguely remember being in the taxi. Nothing after that, until I woke up this morning," she told her with a shrug.

Lindsay groaned, "I don't remember much else, myself."

"Did you and Danny-"

"No," she replied, shortly.

"It's just that you and him looked pretty-"

"Pretty what?" Lindsay asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Coupley, for lack of a better word," Taylor offered.

Lindsay frowned. "What do you mean, 'coupley'?"

Taylor frowned back at her. "Don't you remember him wrapping his arm around you?"

Lindsay's mouth dropped open. "No!"

Taylor bit back a smile and fished her cell phone out, finding the picture of Danny and Lindsay, before handing it over.

Lindsay squinted at it, and then she realized what she was looking at. "Oh my god," she squealed. "I don't remember this! Has Danny said anything to you?"

"Nope. Why? Wasn't anything mentioned this morning?" Taylor asked her.

Lindsay shook her head. "No, he was gone by the time I got up."

"So how do you know he spent the night?" Taylor asked him.

"There was a pillow and a folded blanket on the couch, and a note."

"Oh," Taylor frowned. "Well, perhaps he doesn't remember either, then."

Lindsay slumped her head back on the table, letting out a muffled groan.

Taylor patted her on the head. "Just be grateful you didn't wake up in the same bed as him. Trust me, that's awkward."

Lindsay's head was back up in a shot. "You woke up in his bed? With him?"

Taylor looked away, blushing. "Yeah."

"I thought you didn't like him," Lindsay accused.

"I don't _not_ like him. He just drives me mad. I either want to bang _his_ head against a wall, or mine!"

Lindsay laughed, "I know that feeling." She groaned. "I should get going. I'm going to be late."

"I'm going to stay and finish my coffee," Taylor told her, as Lindsay left. As soon as she was gone, the two ghosts of the little girls appeared, staring sadly at her. Taylor sighed. "Oh, sweeties, I wish you could help me more," she told them feeling utterly helpless.

The two ghost girls looked at each other in fright, and disappeared, only to be replaced with Leveau. "Stop me."

Taylor frowned. "But I thought you were alive."

Leveau nodded, "Stop me."

Forgetting about her coffee, Taylor got up and left. Except Leveau was stood in front of her. "I'm trying," she told him.

"Stay away!" he roared, pushing her, so she went flying backwards into an empty table. Starbucks fell silent.

"What the hell are you doing, Drew?" Flack asked her, appearing out of nowhere and offering her a hand.

Taylor took it, gingerly pulling herself to her feet, "I fell," she muttered. She was not in the mood for another argument about ghosts. "What are you doing here?"

"It's an unwritten rule that every coffee pot in a police precinct must house terrible coffee. Which I can live with normally, however, hungover – it's not good."

Taylor smiled, "I'll agree with you on that."

"Are you going back to the lab?"

Taylor nodded, "I have an idea."

"Give me five minutes, and I'll walk back with you."

. . .

_You're So Vain_ came blasting out of Taylor's pocket. "Have you changed your ringtone?" asked Flack, as they walked back.

"Nope. I assigned different ringtones for different people. This is Danny's," Taylor explained.

Flack burst out laughing. Then stopped suddenly. "That Britney song was assigned to me? I drive you crazy?"

"Actually, it's called _You Drive Me Crazy_. And yes you do. But there isn't a song called You Drive Me So Crazy I Want To Bang My Head Against A Wall," she pointed out.

"I drive you crazy?" he repeated.

Taylor glanced over at him, trying to read the emotions which were crossing his face, "Yeah. Do you have any idea how infuriating you can be?" She flipped her phone open and answered it. "Danny?"

"_Where are you?_"

"Walking into the Crime Lab."

"_You know you thought Leveau was dead?_"

"He's schizophrenic," Taylor offered.

"_Yeah. How did you know?_"

"I guessed." The doors to the elevator opened and Danny walked out. They both hung up their phones.

"Ah, Flack. Just the person. I think we have an ID on the little girl."

Flack nodded, "Where are we going?"

"Harlem, again. Marie's mother mentioned something about her daughter having an evil friend."

"Can I come?" Taylor asked suddenly.

Danny looked at her. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, Drew. You're not taking this case to well."

"Danny, I'm sorry, but do you expect anyone to take this case well?" Taylor asked in disbelief. "Seriously. It was sick and wrong when it was just one child, but two – Unless I consume another bottle of tequila tonight, I'm not going to sleep until this guy is stopped, and I'm pretty sure you're not. I feel helpless enough as it is, but I can't stand around doing nothing."

Danny nodded, "Fine."

. . .

Taylor was leaning against the hood of the car, watching several children play in the street. Flack and Danny had gone into the building to talk to the woman they suspected to be the second girl's mother. She sighed, and held back a sob. Any of these children could be next.

As she thought it, she didn't realise the full potential of how right she could be, until she noticed someone else watching the children. It was Leveau. Her hands flew to her cell phone. "Flack!" she whispered urgently.

"_Taylor? Now is not a good time. The woman is about to_-"

"Flack, Leveau is outside. Now."

Flack swore, "Taylor, don't you dare move from where you are."

"I, uh, I don't think I'm going to have much choice in the matter," she said. Leveau had spotted her and was running over.

"_Taylor-_"

Taylor dropped the phone, fumbling with the keys as she ran around to the door, trying to get it open. Just as she succeeded, Leveau was at her side, slamming the door shut, and pushing her against it.

"Can I help you?" he hissed at her.

"I'm a journalist with the New York Daily," she whimpered, trying not to cry. "I'm writing about the lack of play areas around here."

"Now why don't I believe you?"

"It's the truth," she cried, trying to push him off her.

"You're a liar," he spat at her. "You're an evil liar, and you need to be cleansed of your sins."

Taylor started to scream but he clamped his hand over her mouth, using his other hand to grab her hair and start pulling her away from the car. Kicking and hitting was doing no good – the man seemed oblivious to pain. And then the strangest thing happened. Another Leveau appeared. This one leapt on the other one, knocking Taylor free. Taylor lay on the pavement, momentarily stunned before jumping to her feet and running to the car.

Whilst the two Leveau's fought with each other, Taylor jumped into the car and shut the door, locking it behind her.

The ghost disappeared and Leveau got back on his feet, charging at the car. He punched the glass, several times, until, oblivious to the blood and the pain, his fist went through it and grabbed Taylor. Taylor struggled against him, and then he went flying again. Not stopping to see that it was actually Danny and Flack tackling him, she moved to the other side of the car, got out and ran, ignoring the shouts behind her.

She ran as fast as she could for several blocks, until she stumbled across and empty public garden. She ran into it and fell to the grass, sobbing hysterically.

. . .

"Taylor!"

Taylor ignored the shouts, staring at the dime Mama Severina had given her – she'd found it in her pocket when she had been looking in her pocket for a handkerchief.

"Taylor! There you are!"

Taylor looked up and found Danny stood in the garden gateway looking very relieved. He pulled out his phone, "I got her." He hung up and walked over to her. "Are you alright?"

"Not really," she told him, shaking her head.

Danny sat down next to the shivering journalist and pulled his jacket off, wrapping it around her. "You're shivering."

"I'm not cold," she muttered, shaking her head.

"No," Danny agreed. "You're in shock. You should go home. Marty's there, waiting for you."

Taylor shook her head, "I can't. I need to know why." She looked up at him. "Let me watch the interview."

Even though it wasn't a request, Danny nodded. "It might not give you any answers, you know."

"Going home definitely won't give me any answer, though," Taylor pointed out.

"You're right," Danny sighed, helping her to her feet.

. . .

"Mr Leveau, this is Abigail Brown, and this is your daughter, Marie. I should hope you recognise them, considering you raped and murdered them," Flack said, trying to remain calm as Danny placed pictures of the two girls on the table.

Leveau said nothing.

"You can remain quiet all you want," said Danny. "But the fact of the matter is, there is enough DNA evidence that you're going to get the needle and burn in hell for what you did."

"I will not go to hell." Leveau told them, finally breaking the silence he had held since being arrested. "I will be welcomed into heaven by God."

Flack slammed his fists on the table. "No! You won't! God won't be there to save you when you're stood on the mouth of Hell. What you did was an unforgivable act."

"I was merely fulfilling God's wishes," Leveau calmly told him.

Taylor was stood on the other side of the mirror watching this, feeling sick. If she hadn't thrown up the second she had entered the Crime Lab, she most certainly would have been doing then. As it was, she was sat down watching the interview, feeling far too weak to be able to do anything. She wasn't violent, but at that moment in time, she wanted ten minutes alone with him.

"The children were evil," Leveau continued. "The spawn of Satan."

"They were six years old. They had barely grasped the concept of right and wrong!" Danny shouted. Taylor could see both of the detectives visibly wrestling with themselves not to leap over the table and hurt him.

"Mr Leveau," said Flack. "We have DNA evidence of five other people who helped you commit those crimes."

Leveau started at them. "They are also God's workers."

The room Taylor was standing in grew cold. She turned around expecting the two girls, but instead found Leveau. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I came to apologise," he told her.

Taylor snorted. "Two innocent children are not going to be able to grow up and have the life they deserve because of you."

Leveau shook his head. "That's not me in there. That is the monster which did those acts. He was slowly killing me as I tried to stop him. I fought him for seven years, as I slowly became sicker and sicker. I tried to kill him, take the medicine – but he was too strong. I failed. That monster is all that is left." Leveau started to sob, "I will never be able to see my daughter again, because I wasn't strong enough."

Taylor watched him before taking a deep breath. "What's going to happen to you?"

"I'm going to what you know as purgatory. It is no less than what I deserve. He will go to Hell."

Taylor turned her back on him. It was hard to feel pity for the man who had the same face as the man who was being interviewed by Flack and Danny.

"I just wanted to say sorry. It won't bring them back, but it's the best I could do." The room got warmer as the ghost disappeared.

In front of her, Danny and Flack were gathering their things together. As they were about to leave, Flack stopped and turned around. "Here's the thing, Leveau, you won't make it to that needle. You'll be dead a long time before that. Prison doesn't take too kindly to paedophiles." Behind Taylor, the door opened, and Flack walked in. "How are you doing?"

Taylor sighed. "This guy makes me want to give up my belief in God. I don't understand how someone can do that and then declare it was the will of God."

"What he was doing wasn't the will of God," Flack pointed out.

"I know that," Taylor nodded, miserably.

Flack sighed. "You look exhausted. Let me take you home." Taylor nodded. "Just wait there. I need to grab my jacket." He smiled at her and left, leaving Taylor to watch Leveau be escorted from the interview room.

She turned around to wait in the corridor, only to be greeted by the ghosts of the two girls. The stood staring at her, scared smiles on their faces, holding each other's hands.

"I'm sorry," Taylor whispered, "I couldn't protect you." She sighed, "I really do wish there was someone with you right now, so you don't have to be alone."

Marie walked up to Taylor, sucking her thumb, and clutching tightly to the bear in her other hand, and wrapped her arm around her legs. It was the strangest feeling, to be hugged by a ghost – almost like a balloon was pressing against her. She wiped away the tears as the ghost vanished and left the room.

She didn't have to wait long for Flack to appear. The two took the elevator in silence, Taylor leaning against the wall – she was completely exhausted, in every sense of the word. The doors pinged open and Flack wrapped an arm around her, leading her out. As Taylor let out a sigh, her gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Will you be alright tonight? If you don't want to be alone-"

"Taylor!"

Taylor pulled away and found Marty heading towards her.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, giving her a hug. "Stella filled me in on everything. I took the night off, and I'm taking you home. We'll grab a takeaway and you can have a nice hot bath," he told her. "Cheers, mate," he said to Flack, before leading Taylor away. Taylor looked back at him over her shoulder, and gave him a sad smile, before allowing Marty to lead her out of the building.


	36. Wrong Place, Right Time

_06/06/2006_

_Spoilers for 2:14; Stuck On You_

**Chapter 35: Wrong Place, Right Time**

Taylor was not a happy bunny. It had been exactly two weeks and a day since Leveau had been arrested and every night she had lay awake in bed because every time she tried to sleep her dreams were plagued with images of the two girls. She knew Marty knew that she hadn't been sleeping – whenever he got home from work, she was up, channel surfing god-awful television that played nothing more than paid advertising at stupid hours in the morning – but he never said anything. He just picked out a DVD and joined her.

The popularity of her column had risen again, (it was the only reason Alex had forgiven her for running out of the party) thanks to a four page spread on religion based crimes, and her award was sat on top of the television.

The ghosts had been kind and she had only visited the lab twice in the fifteen days because of ghosts. They had both been over the age of forty, and straight forward enough. She had actually been to the lab daily, however. Partly because she was breathing over Flack's shoulder (much to his utmost annoyance) as the other rapists had been arrested, and partly because she was spending time with the CSIs.

They were fast becoming good friends, especially Lindsay and Stella. The latter of which was becoming a surrogate mother/sister figure and was still taking the time to explain procedures to her (more likely out of pity than anything else, but Taylor didn't mind) and was also helping to help her deal with a case involving children.

Sheldon had turned out to be incredibly well read, and if neither Lindsay nor Stella were about, he would talk to her about books and plays they had seen. Even Danny seemed to take pity on her, teasing her relentlessly, although it never bothered her so much as when Flack did it. Even Mac would welcome her to his office to talk statistics – it was a large part of why her column was doing so well. And even though she still knew very little about them, they were slowly becoming more than friends. They were becoming like family.

Her mother was still calling her daily, and had actually gotten worse when it came to Taylor's personal life. After Marty had answered the phone, and received the third degree, her mother was beyond upset that her daughter was living with a man she wasn't married to, claiming it was ruining her chances, and if it weren't for the fact she hated flying, she would have been on the next plane out there.

She had had a letter from her father, as well as a phone call, but his ship was moored off the coast of Iran and communication wasn't easy. In fact, the letter and call were more than she'd had in a few months, so she actually quite lucky in some respects.

Maddy was… well, she didn't know. Maddy hadn't returned her phone calls, and when she had gotten through, it was Pete who had answered. It was just another stress to add to the pile. She'd been around to see her a couple of times, but Maddy had been really busy, having just started a new job in a at an elementary school (she was a supply teacher). Which was why she was spending so much time at the Crime Lab

At that current moment, she was standing in a very large and spacious loft in Tribeca gazing at various pieces of artwork, whilst trying to enjoy a party she was really not in the mood for. Omar, from the Arts section had called and insisted she go to the "gallery" with him, only to back out at the last minute himself – when Taylor had already arrived. The only reason Taylor was still there was because Stella and Frankie had been there. And now she was feeling like a spare leg.

"One thousand individual pictures working as one. It's almost as beautify as you are," Frankie was saying to Stella. Taylor took a large mouthful of wine.

"You're sweet," Stella smiled at him. "You're also very sneaky, Frankie. When you said we were going to go to a gallery show I assumed we'd be in a gallery – not somebody's loft."

"This is the art scene, Stella. Not the crime lab. Scientific rules don't apply."

As Taylor took another large mouthful – it was amazing how much wine made her feel better - the three of them were joined by another man.

"That's not entirely true," the man told Stella. "The algorithm that allowed me to put these mosaics together is mathematical." He held out his hand to Taylor. "I'm James Golden, not your typical artist."

"Oh!" Stella exclaimed. "It's your work. Wow!"

"Congratulations," Taylor told him.

"Thank you. James Golden originals, courtesy of Carlo Franchetti." He pointed up some stairs to a man who was busy whispering into a woman's ear. "Your host, and my benefactor, Carlo Franchetti." James disappeared to mingle with other guests, leaving Taylor with Stella and Frankie.

As Frankie began complimenting Stella again, Taylor finished her glass and left them, looking for the bathroom. Which was valid, in part. Plus, she wanted to give them some privacy as she felt like she was disturbing their date. She headed up the stairs and began peering in the various rooms. They were all bedrooms, except for the last one. That one lead onto the roof. She turned around to go back in, when she was stopped by a scream.

She dashed up onto the roof and skidded to a stop, dropping her glass.

. . .

"I should have known you'd be here, Drew. And it's not even surprising that you're dressed to the nines, either."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "I didn't want to be here, Flack. I got tricked into it, and have spent the best part of the evening feeling like a spare leg."

"No date?" Flack asked carefully.

Taylor sighed, "I was supposed to be here with a colleague. Only he cancelled on me." She turned her back to him, staring out at the twinkling lights of the city which were beginning to dim in the brightening light.

"It was you that found them?" he asked.

Taylor nodded. "Just another dead body to add to the list," she sighed. "I didn't see it happen. I heard a scream, saw that," she pointed at a body impaled against the wall. "And called it in."

"What have we got, Flack?" came Mac's voice.

Flack turned around to greet the supervising CSI. "Morning, Mac. I'll give you three guesses as to who found the body."

"I've already seen Stella, Flack," Mac told him.

Flack stepped to one side to reveal Taylor, who was leant against the side of the building.

"Taylor?" Mac said in surprise.

Flack nodded. "She saw nothing, though. Now, I've spoken with half the guests. My guys are following up with the rest. Word is Carlo's parties are a regular event. Our victim's name is Mirabella and this is her first party, because no-one knows her."

Mac looked at the victim. "Mirabella's anonymity doesn't exclude her as a target. Neither does Carlo's popularity, though. The question is, which one is the intended victim."

"I'll get on that now," Flack told him. "Carlo's getting into surgery. When he gets out, I'll be waiting." He gave Taylor one last look, then left.

"Taylor?" Mac called, heading over to the journalist.

"Hi, Mac," she greeted him, turning around.

"You should go home."

Taylor nodded, surprising Mac.

"You're not going to fight me?" he asked her, frowning.

"Nope," she shook her head at him, "I didn't see a ghost, and frankly, I have no intention of hanging around a dead body unless I have to."

"Oh, okay," he said slowly.

"You don't need me to make any more statements?" she asked as she started to leave.

"No, I know where you live," Mac assured her. "And I'm sure you'll be around later."

Taylor nodded and left.

. . .

She was awoken only a few hours after she had arrived at her apartment by her cell phone going off – it was Omar. "_Hi, Taylor, sorry I couldn't make it last night_."

"Don't worry. It ended early, anyway," she told him yawning.

"_Yeah, I heard about that. Are you alright?_"

"Yeah, I'm fine. What's up?"

There was a pause. "_Actually, I was hoping you could do me a favour?_"

"Sure," Taylor shrugged. "Provided it isn't attending another art exhibition.

"_Your friend, Frankie Mala. Could you get me his number for me?_"

"Um, I guess that shouldn't be a problem. Why?" she asked him, curiously.

"_I've seen a few pieces of his and I want to write an article on him._"

Taylor shrugged again, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "No worries. I'll text it to you later."

"_Cheers, Taylor._"

Taylor hung up and sighed. Mac was right. She would be going to the Crime Lab.

. . .

Stella hadn't returned to the lab by the time Taylor had arrived. In fact, there was no-one she recognised, other than Adam, and as she didn't know him all that well, she headed down into the basement to the morgue. Marty was pulling a double, according to the message he had left her, so she figured that he wouldn't mind a visit.

"Your party got cut short?" he asked, as soon as he spotted her.

Taylor nodded.

"A ghost?"

"Close," she sighed. "Someone speared the host against a wall. Killed the woman he was with." She pointed to Mirabella, who was lying on the table with half an arrow still protruding from her.

"Ah," Marty nodded. "You're here for the autopsy, then?"

Taylor shook her head. "I'm not actually here to help with a case, for once. I was just in the wrong place at the right time. I'm here to see Stella."

"Oh? Really?" Marty asked in surprise.

"Strange, isn't it?" Taylor agreed.

Marty smiled, "Well, I'm glad you're here. I have some good news."

Taylor smiled back at him. "What?" she asked, curiously.

"I have been asked to go to St. Louis to speak at a seminar."

Taylor gave him a hug. "That's great. When do you go?"

"Actually, my flight is this evening," Marty admitted.

Taylor's eyes widened in surprise. "That's quick."

Marty grinned sheepishly, "Well, I was actually the solution to a last minute cancellation, but I'm not complaining."

"You're back then?"

Taylor dropped her arms from Marty and turned around. Mac was stood watching them, by the body of Mirabella. "Yeah," she told him. "I'm not staying. I've just nipped in to see Stella."

Mac nodded, "I'm here for the arrow," he said to Marty.

Marty walked over to the body and turned her on her side, "Alright, you hold the shoulders, and I'll pull." He waited for Mac to secure his hold on the body, and then wrapped his hands around the arrow. "One… two…three." Taylor winced as the arrow was pulled out with a slurpy sounding pop. "There you go," Marty said, handing the remains of the arrow over.

"Thank you, Marty." As he started to leave, Lindsay and Danny appeared in the doorway.

"Hey," Lindsay greeted Mac.

"Hey," Mac greeted back. "You guys on that music promoter?"

"Like glue," Danny told him.

Mac let out a very dry, and in Taylor's opinion, somewhat forced, laugh, before leaving.

"He doesn't think that's funny," Lindsay said, turning to Danny. "He's humouring you."

Danny smirked at her. "You don't know him like I do."

Taylor turned to Marty and smiled, sharing a look.

"Hi Taylor," said Lindsay, as she spotted her.

"Hi," Taylor returned, giving her a bright smile.

"What are you grinning at?"

"Oh," Taylor floundered. "Marty's going to St. Louis for a conference," she told them, recovering quickly.

"Why are you here," Danny asked. "Ghost?" He looked around the morgue.

"Nope, just calling in to see Stella," Taylor shrugged.

"Really?"

"I don't get it," frowned Taylor. "I've been every day for the past two weeks, but only came in because of a ghost twice. And yet I appear now, and you all think I'm here because of a ghost again."

Danny shrugged. "Can't help it, Drew. It's the image that's associated with you."

Taylor pulled a face. "Glad to know. Anyway, I'm going to go and do what I intended on doing, and then get home."

"Hey, if you're going to see Stella, could you give her this?" Marty asked, handing over a folder. Taylor took it. She gave them all a bright smile and left.


	37. Mac's Secret Life

_07/06/2006_

_Spoilers for 2x14: Stuck On You_

**Chapter 36: Mac's Secret Life**

By the time she had taken the elevator up to the thirty-eighth floor, Stella had returned to the Crime Lab, had even managed to get changed out of her slinky black cocktail dress, and was trying to plug something into her computer.

"Hey, Taylor. What brings you here?" Stella greeted her. "Are you here to help with the case."

Taylor shook her head. "No, I'm after Frankie's number, actually."

Stella smiled. "Are you trying to steal my boyfriend off me?"

Taylor smiled back. "I don't think I could, even if I wanted to. The guy has got it bad for you."

Stella's smile widened. "He has, hasn't he?"

"The friend I was supposed to be there with tonight wanted to meet him. Something about doing an article on Frankie and his work, but as he couldn't make it, I guess he wants to arrange to meet him some other time," Taylor explained. Stella pulled out her phone and found Frankie's number, handing the cell over to Taylor who quickly copied it down. "Thanks Stell."

"I've slept with a lot of women. Some wild, some crazy, some both."

Taylor and Stella turned around to find Flack.

"Excuse me?" asked Taylor.

"Taylor?" said Flack, looking just as startled as Taylor did. "I wasn't expecting you here. Carlo's words," he quickly explained. "Not mine"

"Ah," said Stella, nodding in understanding.

"You shoulda swung by the hospital to meet this guy," Flack explained. "He's a piece of work. He calls himself the new American playboy. Lives, drinks and breaths women." Taylor and Stella looked at each other. "Again, his words," Flack hurriedly added. "So with that in mind, as far as jealous ex's go – a lot of them."

"Looks like Carlo has emerged as our primary target," nodded Stella.

Flack laughed. "Five minutes into the interview, and _I_ wanted to kill him." He looked down at the names and pictures that were appearing on the computer. "What's all this?"

"Hang on," said Taylor, "I have Mirabella's autopsy report from Marty for you."

"And the results of her pubic combing," added Stella, as she leafed through the folder.

Flack leant over and read the paper. "Two foreign pubic hair samples. Now there's a party. Who were the guests?"

"The first sample is Carlo, the other was a female," Stella read aloud.

"Ok, only Carlo and Mirabella were on the patio," Flack started, then stopped. He turned to face Taylor. "And you," he added.

"Thank you for that charming assumption," Taylor glared at him. "However, I prefer to sleep with just the one person, for starters. On top of all that, I believe I was fully clothed, and Carlo hadn't gotten around to removing his pants when I found them."

"Sorry," Flack apologized, having the grace to look a little embarrassed. "So you're thinking that the hair must be transfer from one of his past girlfriends," he said to Stella, ignoring her raised eyebrow. "Which is why you're now snooping through Carlo's little black book."

Stella nodded. "The women listed here, are his reason for living. Alphabetized by first name."

Flack frowned. "Forget player – stalker's more like it."

"We've got Amanda, 21. Aubrey, age 19. Alexis, age 26. And scouting reports. This is page one of the A's. It goes all the way to Z."

Flack nodded his head slowly. "Carlo's all about the details, isn't he?"

"Flack!" exclaimed Taylor in surprise.

"Commenting, not condoning," he added hurriedly.

"Uh huh," said Stella. "Pubic hairs are not like fossils. They don't hang around forever. Which makes Carlo's day planner very interesting." She brought up a picture of a pretty black girl, decked out in running gear. "Sienna. Before the party yesterday, Carlo blocked out three hours to be with her."

"Sheep's Meadow, Central Park," Flack peered in at the screen. "She may kill me but it'll be worth it."

"Yeah," scoffed Taylor. "I doubt Mirabella felt the same way."

"Right," said Flack. "I shall go and find her for us." He left quickly.

"You seemed a little upset back there," Stella said, turning to Taylor.

Taylor frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Stella smiled coyly at her. "Never mind."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "You had better not be thinking what I think you're thinking, Stella," she muttered, before also leaving.

. . .

She had taken six steps out onto the street when her cell rang again. "I've just sent you his number," Taylor said, without even looking at the caller ID.

"_Um, Taylor, its… Mac._"

"Oh, sorry. I thought you were somebody from work… my work."

"_I was wondering if you could help me with something._"

"Sure,"Taylor agreed hesitantly. She could count all of the times Mac had asked her for a favour on one hand.

"_Can you come to the seventeenth floor?_"

"Yeah, I'm on my way."

The seventeenth floor, it turned out, housed the firing range. Taylor put on the goggles and ear muffs she was given and walked down the row to the end cubicle where Mac was housed, firing a bow and arrow.

"A bow and arrow?" she asked him, eyebrow raised questioningly. "I don't know whether to be impressed, or worried."

"Hold fire!" Mac shouted to the room. Around them, there were various clicks as the men and women in the room but their weapon's safety's on. "Your turn," Mac told her, handing her the bow. "This bow and arrow's identical to our murder weapon."

Taylor stared at him. "Mac, I've never fired one of these before. I've never even fired a gun before."

"Exactly" Mac agreed. "You're perfect to add context to the evidence."

"Which is?" Taylor asked.

"Jaguar blood."

"Jaguar blood?" Taylor repeated, blinking.

Mac nodded. "It makes me think our killer's a hunter. Yet the suspect, Sienna, works a desk all day." He handed her the bow. "Put your hand there, three fingers right here." Taylor did as he said. "Pull back."

"So, it stands to reason," said Taylor as she took aim, "That if I can use this, so can Sienna?"

Mac nodded again. "Give it your best shot."

Taylor shrugged and released the bow. It flew through the air and connected with board, just missing a bulls eye. "Whoa! That's awesome!" Taylor exclaimed. "And easy. I think Sienna could have done it."

Mac smiled. "So do I."

Taylor whirled around. "Can I have another?"

"You've proven a point," Mac told her.

"I know," Taylor responded. "But that was fun."

"If you want, but I'm going to have to go and see Lindsay."

Taylor smiled and reloaded another arrow as the other Taylor left. She was actually finding this really fun. And, Mac had asked her for help.

A few rounds later, and Taylor was interrupted by her cell phone again. "Hello?"

"_Hey Taylor, it's Omar again. Thank you for the number._"

"You're welcome."

"_I have a question for you._"

Taylor frowned, "Go ahead."

"_Is there any chance you could get me an interview with Mac Taylor?_"

"Um… why?" Taylor asked. Crime was her area... and Mac?

"_Well, Carol Williams has flown in from Chicago._"

"Who's she?" Taylor asked in confusion.

_"Jazz player._"

Taylor was even more confused. "And this concerns Mac, how?"

"_She's playing with his band at Cozy's, tonight._"

Taylor licked her lips, "Look, Omar, can I cash in on that favour you owe me for Frankie's number?"

"_Sure._"

"Don't make a big deal over Mac. He's a very private person and I really don't think he'd appreciate it."

Omar sighed, "_Only because I owe you, Taylor_."

. . .

Taylor headed back upstairs. This piece of information was something she wanted to share with Lindsay, especially after overhearing her and Danny's exchange in the morgue.

"Let me know what you get with on that," Mac's voice drifted out of one of the trace labs – Taylor was beginning to familiarize herself with the layout of the thirty-eighth floor – before the owner of the voice walked out. Taylor shot him an _I know something that you don't_ look, which clearly puzzled him, before joining Lindsay and Danny.

"He wanted to see the guitars," Lindsay was telling Danny.

Taylor smiled. It was the same Mac Taylor, then.

Danny shrugged and smiled at Taylor, before continuing. "Blood from the vic's jacket. Turns out to be female."

Lindsay also shot Taylor a smile. "That rules out Patrick."

"And Gus Drude, for now."

Lindsay looked at the q-tip she was holding, "Maybe this swab will tell us something."

Danny nodded and licked his lips, "So, you wanna go see Rough Sects?"

"Excuse me?" Taylor blurted out. Lindsay was doing a much better job of keep a neutral face than she was, "Rough sex? Danny!"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Drew," Danny smirked. "Rough Sects. It's a band. What are you doing back?"

"Nice to see you too, Messer," said Taylor, sending him a withering look. "But I'm here to chat to Lindsay."

"I get the picture," Danny said, commenting on her pointed glare, "I'll meet you downstairs in a few, Montana." He walked out of the lab before Lindsay had a chance to correct him on her name.

"I take it back," Lindsay muttered, "I don't like the nickname."

Taylor grinned wickedly, "Wanna get one up on ol" Danny boy?"

"What have you got in mind?" Lindsay asked her suspiciously.

"Guess what Mac is doing tonight."

. . .

She contemplated going home, but Taylor was curious as to what was happening with the Franchetti case, so she headed in the direction of Mac's office. Instead of finding him alone, he was with Stella and Sheldon.

"What can I do for you, Taylor?" he asked as soon as he spotted her.

"Curiosity, more than anything."

"You know what curiosity did to the cat, don't you?"

Taylor smiled, "Good job I'm not a cat, isn't I?"

Mac smiled back, "Let's see what you think, then. If Carlo owned the bow and arrow, where did he keep it?"

Taylor shrugged, "Well, the obvious place would be somewhere in his home, surely."

Stella nodded, "Forget about the black book. Anyone with access to his house could be a suspect."

"Okay," agreed Sheldon. "He's only been back from Peru for a few days, which means the same for the bow and arrow. Odds are, we're looking for someone at the party." Sheldon and Mac turned to stare at Stella.

"Right," said Stella. "Well, my prints aren't going to match. Promise," she told them, hold her hands up.

"Yeah, I believe you. It's the rest of the guests I don't trust." Mac told her.

"Thanks," said Taylor.

"Is there something you want to confess to?" Sheldon asked her with a grin.

"Yeah, it was me," said Taylor, deadpan.

Sheldon laughed, "There were a few hundred people invited to the party. Unless someone RSVP'd as murderer, how do we know who's important?"

"To answer that, we have to know where in the house the bow was first taken from," Mac told them.

"The arrow was coated with an acetone-based cleaner." It was places like this that Taylor got lost. Instead of saying anything, she just smiled and nodded.

"I'm going to pack the vapour detectors," Stella said. "Taylor, do you want something to do?"

"It depends what you have in mind," she replied, suspiciously.

. . .

"It's nothing taxing," Stella was explaining. "Basically, this image," she had one of the artworks on the computer in front of her. "Is made up of hundreds of other images. All you have to do is work out what the other images are." Taylor nodded. Seemed easy enough.

. . .

A couple of hours later, and Taylor was actually having fun. From one artwork, she had established the overall image of a woman was Sienna, made up from smaller images of her, another was another woman she didn't recognize, and she was just finishing up on the third when Mac and Stella appeared.

"Sienna, Cassie, and Mirabella," said Mac.

"Good job, Taylor," Stella told her, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Gives a whole new meaning to the term art lover," she added to Mac.

Mac nodded, "This was a crime of passion. And it had everything to do with her."

"You know who did it?" Taylor asked them.

Stella nodded, "I think we do."

"Good," she yawned, "Now, I have had very little sleep for a while now," she told them, "I'm going home."

. . .

Taylor had every intention of going to Cozy's that evening to do a little reconnaissance work. She wanted to see what Lindsay had done with the juicy little piece of information she had given her, and also, she was curious herself about Mac's musical talent. However, after she'd slipped into something a little more comfortable – her pyjamas – and sat down on the couch to watch an episode or two of Sex and the City, she had fallen fast asleep.

For the first time in a long time, she didn't awaken when Marty returned. Nor did she awaken as he packed up. And she most definitely didn't awaken when he scooped her up and tucked her up in her own bed, before he left for the airport.


	38. Losing A Friend

_08/06/2006_

**Chapter 37: Losing A Friend**

Taylor glanced at the bright green LED display on her alarm clock – 5:08 am. She couldn't sleep, and had been tossing and turning all night. Giving the room a frustrated sigh, she flung back the covers and padded out of her bedroom to the hallway to grab herself a glass of water. She stood staring out of the window above her sink as she drank, trying to work out if she should even bother trying to get back to sleep, or whether she should instead get started on her next article.

She was about to rinse her glass out and opt for the latter idea, when the temperature of the room dropped. She turned around, ready to take the third option – helping the ghost – when she stopped and dropped her glass. "Holy cow, Maddy!" she yelled at her friend.

"I'm sorry, Taylor. I let you down."

Taylor frowned, "What have you done, Mads?"

"Find him for me."

"Find who?" Taylor asked, completely confused as to why her best friend was stood in her kitchen at some unearthly hour. And then she noticed the bruising on her neck and face. "Has Pete hit you again?" she cried in alarm.

Instead of answering, Maddy disappeared.

It took Taylor exactly six seconds for the proverbial penny to drop. "No," she whispered. Forgetting about the glass, and even about getting dressed, she ran out of the kitchen and ran out of the door. She ran the distance to Maddy's apartment in just over quarter of an hour – a personal best (which, given any other circumstances would have made her smile), even though she wasn't wearing any kind of footwear. She tore up the stairs, and to Maddy's door, where she stood pounding on it.

"What the hell is all this banging about?" Her vision blurred with tears, Taylor turned her head to make out Maddy's next door neighbour, Martha, stood in her doorway. "Taylor? Is that you?"

"Martha," Taylor managed to hold back a sob. "Do you still have a spare key?"

Martha took one look at Taylor and nodded, disappearing into her apartment and returning seconds later with the key. She unlocked the door for Taylor, who went charging into the apartment. She skidded to a halt at the bathroom. Maddy was lying face down on the floor.

Taylor ran over to her, turning her over and pulling Maddy's head into her lap. It was far too late for her.

. . .

Mac, Stella and Flack arrived shortly after the uniforms and the paramedics had – Martha had called them straight away. "She won't leave the body," a medic said, walking over to the three detectives.

"Who is the apartment registered to?" Flack asked one of the uniforms.

"Madeline Almeda."

The three detectives all looked at each other before Stella tore away from them and into the doorway of the bathroom. Taylor was sat with Maddy in her arms, rocking back and forth, vicious sobs escaping her body.

"Taylor?" Stella approached the distraught journalist, who didn't seem to have heard her. "Taylor!" she repeated more firmly.

Taylor looked up at her, "She's gone, Stelle," she sobbed.

"Come on, honey. You need to let us take care of her now," she told her gently, laying her hand on Taylor's shoulders.

Taylor shook her head. "No, I'm not leaving her again."

Stella crouched down beside her and glanced up at the doorway where Mac and Flack were stood, both watching and both looking quite upset.

"Taylor," Mac came over and crouched down next to Stella, "I want you to go to the hospital with Flack."

Taylor shook her head.

"Come on, Drew," said Flack as he walked over, "Maddy wouldn't want you sat there sobbing."

"It was Pete," she managed in a strangled voice. "It was Pete, and I knew exactly what he was doing, and I didn't stop it."

Stella leant over and prised Taylor's fingers from around Maddy's arms, before she and Flack pulled Taylor to her feet.

Taylor let out another sob – her feet were in excruciating pain (not surprising, considering that she had pretty much run from one side of the island to the other without wearing any shoes) and she fell back to the floor.

Flack caught her before she hit the ground and scooped her up, taking her into the living room to the paramedics, who allowed him to place her on the stretcher. The medics went straight to work on her feet.

Flack winced as they pulled various pieces of glass out of her feet, but Taylor didn't seem to notice. She was still sobbing, and in shock. He started to walk away, to go to tell Mac and Stella he was going to take her home, but she stopped him, grabbing his hand and clutching it tightly. He sighed and squeezed it back, instead waiting for an opportunity to catch one of the CSI's eyes. He didn't have to wait long until Stella walked over. "I'm going to take her home," he told the curly haired CSI in a low voice.

Stella nodded. "I think that's for the best," she agreed, casting a pitying glance over the journalist. Her eyes trailed across to Flack's hand, where they lingered for a few moments, before she brought them up to their owner.

He shook his head gently at her.

Stella sighed. "Stay with her, Flack. Don't let her out of your sight."

"I won't," he promised.

Stella smiled sadly and went back to processing the scene, leaving him to wait for the paramedics to finish bandaging Taylor's feet.

"She's going to need some pain killer when she calms down," the medic told him. "Those feet are really going to hurt."

Flack nodded. He crouched down next to the stretcher, "Taylor?" She looked up at him with red rimmed, puffy eyes and sniffed. "You need to let go of my hand."

Taylor's eyes darted down to the hand she was clutching tightly at and stared at them. As soon as she registered what he was talking about, she dropped his hand like it was on fire.

"Now, don't be alarmed, but I'm going to pick you up." Taylor stared blankly at him. "You can't walk on those feet," he explained gently, as he scooped her up.

Thankfully for Flack, Maddy's apartment was on the second floor, so he didn't have to carry Taylor far. Not that it was a problem, considering how, despite her above average height, she was actually quite light. Then again, bringing your meal back up whenever you saw a dead body, and not getting enough sleep would do that to a person.

The car ride to Taylor's apartment was a quiet one. Flack had dealt with death far too many times than he cared to count, but in this instance, he really didn't know what to say. Instead, he allowed Taylor to sit, staring numbly out of the window, tears still streaking down her face.

The door was wide open when he got to it, from when Taylor had run out. He sat her on the ground and pulled his gun out and was about to enter.

"It's alright," Taylor mumbled, struggling to get to her feet. "I didn't lock it."

"Stay there," Flack ordered. "It's all the more reason for me to check." Taylor slid back to the floor as he disappeared into her apartment, only to return minutes later. "You're fine," he told her, scooping her up again. He carried her over to the sofa and placed her gently on it. Flack stood watching her for a moment, then disappeared into the kitchen. He'd spotted the broken glass, and the blood, as he'd checked the apartment, and went to clean it up.

He re-entered the living room a while later, complete with a glass of water and some pain killers. Although, as Taylor was now stood by her window, staring at a framed photograph, the shock clearly hadn't worn off enough for to realise she needed them. He walked over and glanced down at the picture. It was one of her and Maddy from a good few years ago – probably college. Taylor was dressed in red, a little larger than she currently was, as a devil, and Maddy in white as an angel.

"Everyone joked that it should have been the other way around," Taylor told him, her voice hoarse from the crying. "Maddy found it hilarious – she was the trouble maker. Always has been. The only reason I ever received a detention was because of her. I guess it's the right way around now," she added, choking back a sob.

Flack gently pulled the picture out of her hand and set it down on the windowsill. "Take these," he gently ordered, handing her the tablets and the water.

Taylor numbly followed his demands, and allowed him to lead her to the couch. Flack sat down next to her and wrapped his arms around her, gently stroking her hair. After a while, her breathing had slowed and he realised that she had fallen asleep.

Flack grabbed the remote and flicked the television on, but the sound off, substituting the sound for subtitles, not that he needed the subtitles as he watched vintage Yankees games on ESPN Classics. As the sun began to peak in through one of the windows, he soon fell asleep himself.

. . .

A couple of hours later he awoke with a start. He rubbed his eyes, looking around, trying to remember where he was. As it dawned on him, he glanced down, only to realise that Taylor had gone. Flack jumped to his feet and hurriedly searched the apartment. Finding it empty, he pulled his phone and hit speed dial four. "Stella… we have a problem."


	39. Home Is The Best Place You Can Be

_08/06/2006_

**Chapter 38: Home Is The Best Place You Can Be**

Danny hurried into the Crime Lab, hastily trying to suppress a yawn. He'd been awoken on his morning off by his pager and a cryptic message telling him he needed to get to the lab ASAP. Well, here he was, and he wanted a coffee, along with some answers.

He half stumbled into Mac's office – he'd been out the night before. Nothing major, but it had been a late night… late in the sense he had returned home after the sun had risen and had been in bed for about four hours when the call came in. However, when he spotted the photographs taped to Mac's glass board, he was wide awake. "Maddy?"

Mac and Stella, who had been stood with their backs to him, looking at the board, turned around. Stella nodded.

"When did this happen?"

"Sid put TOD at around 5am this morning," Mac told him.

"What happened?" Danny demanded.

Stella sighed, "Pete," she told him simply.

It wasn't that often that Danny got angry – really angry – but this was one of those occasions. Maddy was sweet, and fun, and reminded him a lot of someone else he knew. He clenched his fists together. "Has Taylor been told?"

"She was the one who found her," Stella said, nodding.

Danny shut his eyes tightly, counted to ten and turned around.

"Where are you going, Danny?" Mac's voice stopped him.

"To make sure Taylor's alright," Danny explained.

"She's with Flack, Danny," Mac continued. Danny stopped and turned around. "The best thing you can do to help is help us find Pete."

"You mean he's not in custody?" Danny asked incredulously.

Mac shook his head, "He's missing."

"What do you mean he's missing?"

Danny turned around and found Taylor standing in the doorway, face like thunder.

"Taylor-" Stella started, but stopped as her phone went off. "Flack…? No, it's alright. She's here." She hung up and returned her attention to Taylor. "Flack has nearly had a heart attack, you know?"

"I'm helping," Taylor told them, ignoring the comment.

"No, Taylor, you're not." Mac told her firmly.

"I am," she argued.

Mac stood his ground. "Taylor, even if you were on my team I wouldn't allow it. It's too personal."

"Damn straight it's personal, Mac. That's my best friend there," she told him, pointing to the crime photos on the wall behind him. "I knew exactly what was going on and I did nothing, and I'll be damned if I go home and continue to do nothing."

"Taylor, you are going to wait in the break room for Flack and then you are going to let him take you home. Which is where you will stay until we have caught him," Mac ordered.

Taylor met his gaze head on. "As you rightly pointed out, Mac, I'm not on your team, and you can't order me to keep out."

"No," Mac agreed. "But I can have you arrested for not doing."

Taylor narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't."

"I wouldn't like to, but I would," Mac informed her. "And I will."

Stella walked over to her and wrapped her arms around her. "Home is the best place you can be right now, Taylor," she told her softly.

Taylor's anger broke and the tears began to fall, "I can't be at home, Stell."

"Taylor, you have to understand – we're not doing this to be cruel. If we let you in on this, especially in the state you are now, if anything goes wrong, Pete won't be put away." Stella looked up and saw Flack running over to the office, looking thoroughly relieved. "Now, let Flack take you home, and stay there."

"Don't make me handcuff you to the bed, Drew." Flack told her, taking her off Stella.

Any other time and Danny would have had a comment or two to make about that. Not today. "We'll get him, Taylor. I promise."

Taylor nodded dejectedly and allowed the tall detective to lead her out of the building and to his car.

The journey back to Taylor's was the same as it had been the first time around – both sitting in silence. "Come on," sad Flack, gently, leading her to her bedroom. "Get into bed. I'll go fix you something to eat."

Taylor shook her head, "I'm not hungry."

"Just get into bed, Taylor," Flack sighed.

Unable to fathom out a retaliating argument, Taylor nodded and changed back into the pyjamas she had, barely an hour ago, changed out of, and crawled into her bed and under the purple and silver bedspread. Flack disappeared, banging around in the kitchen. He re-appeared a short time later carrying a bowl of soup.

"I know you said you weren't hungry," he told her, placing the tray on her lap. "But you will feel a lot better if you have something to eat."

. . .

Flack leant against the doorframe watching Taylor sleep. She had nodded off not long after eating a few mouthfuls of soup, and was now curled up, lost in the middle of her bed. He sighed and headed into the living room to watch some TV. Under normal circumstances he would have put his foot down at babysitting someone, and demanded that a uniform handle it, insisting that he should be out there looking for the perp. Tempting as it was to go out and try to help Mac help find Pete so that he could… well, do something undetective-like, he wasn't going to leave Taylor alone. And as Marty was still in St Louis, he would stay there and protect her.

He got back to his feet and resumed his position in the doorway. He liked Maddy. She'd even called him a few days ago to demand what his intentions were with Taylor considering he'd 'slept' with her, telling him that as Taylor's closet family member was several thousand miles away, she would have to step up and do the questioning.

He sighed again and looked down at his feet. He was interrupted from his thoughts by his cell phone ringing. "Flack," he answered, hurrying into the kitchen so as not to awaken Taylor.

"_Detective, can you come down to the precinct, immediately?_"

Flack pulled the phone away from his ear and glanced at the number. It was local, but he didn't recognise it. "Who is this?"

"_It's Barnette at the precinct. The chief is fuming over some paperwork you haven't filled in properly._"

Flack frowned. He was normally pretty good with things like that. "I'm sat with a… a witness. Mac should have cleared it."

"_He did. But you know how the chief gets. It should only take a few minutes, and you're only around the corner._"

Flack sighed – Barnette had a point. The chief could really work himself into a temper if things weren't right. He hung up and headed back to Taylor. He didn't want to wake her, but if she awoke and he wasn't there… "Taylor?" He crouched down in front of her.

Taylor opened her eyes and found herself staring straight into his crystal clear blue eyes. "Have you found him?" She sat up with a start.

Flack shook his head, "Look, I really need to go back to the precinct. I'll only be half an hour. Please stay here, or Stella will have my head."

Taylor stared at him, and then nodded, "Alright," she sighed.

"Thank you."

Taylor watched him leave and sighed, falling back onto the pillow. It was taking every inch of will power she had not to get up and leave.

Several minutes after he had left, the door opened again.

"I'm still here," she shouted.

There was no response. Taylor sighed – perhaps he was trying to be covert not to upset her. Or perhaps he was raiding her kitchen cupboards, by the sounds of things. Taylor pulled back the sheets and got to her feet, wincing as she put pressure on them – the pain killers, and the shock, had worn off enough that she was feeling the pain – and padded, or rather, limped, into the kitchen. Only it wasn't Flack standing there. "Pete?"

Pete turned around, holding one of her carving knives. "Hello, Taylor."

Taylor's eyes widened at the sight of the knife, "what are you doing here, Pete?"

Pete just grinned at her.

"Pete, you should leave," Taylor told him, a slight tremble in her voice. "There's a detective in the bathroom, and he's not going to be very happy when he comes out and sees you here."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong, Taylor. He's gone back to the precinct," Pete corrected her.

Taylor frowned. "How did you know that?"

"Because I told him to go."

Taylor started to back away slowly.

"You have nowhere to go, Taylor," he told her, matching her retreating steps with advancing ones.

"What are you doing here, Pete?" she asked, repeating her earlier question.

"It's all your fault, you know," Pete told her, almost sounding upset.

Taylor's back hit her bedroom door, "What is?"

"That she's dead. She was going to leave me because of you."

"She was going to leave you because of you," she told him angrily.

Pete let out an animal like growl and lunged at her. Taylor opened her door, jumped in and slammed her body against it. Pete let out a scream as his arm got trapped between the door and the door frame, as Taylor let out an equal scream of pain as the knife slit through her arm. She slacked up on the door just enough for Pete to slide his arm out and then allowed it to close under her weight, and locked it.

Pete was banging against it in seconds, and Taylor could tell the flimsy lock wasn't going to hold for much longer. She ran to the other side of her room and flung the window open before climbing out onto the fire escape. She had managed to get down one set of iron stairs when she heard the bedroom door crash open behind her. Clutching at the cut at her arm, trying to stem the bleeding with her hand, she ignored the pain in her feet and picked up speed.

She got to the final ladder and jumped on it, trying to make it drop to the alley below, but it was rusted stuck. She climbed onto it anyway, and climbed down as far as it would allow. As she got to the last rung, still some eight feet in the air, she lowered herself down. Or at least tried.

At the best of times, Taylor didn't have the greatest upper body strength, and the cut on her arm, which was leaking blood everywhere, wasn't helping matters. Her arms gave out on her, and she fell to the ground, landing clumsily on her ankle.

She gave a scream as the pain coursed up her leg. But now wasn't the time to be resting. Pete was already on the ladder. Taylor got to her feet and tried to hobble away as fast as she could, but it wasn't fast enough. Pete launched at her, making her crash face first onto the concrete.

Taylor struggled, her bare foot connecting with him, allowing her just enough seconds to struggle out from under him, but he grabbed her before she could get to her feet and rolled her over. Taylor lay staring at the blood stained knife hovering above her.

. . .

"What have we got, Montana?"

Lindsay looked up from the satin shorts she was analysing. "Nothing new. Just evidence that confirms it was Pete." She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "Nothing that tells us where he is."

"How are you holding up?"

Lindsay sighed, "I'm fine. I'm more worried about Taylor."

Danny frowned, "We'll get him, Monroe."

"I know, but-"

"Pete's just used his cell phone," Stella called into the lab, "Hawkes is running a trace on it now."

Lindsay and Danny looked at each other. Danny took off after Stella, and Lindsay dropped the shorts, quickly securing them, before following the other two CSIs to the AV lab.

"What have you got, Hawkes?" Danny asked as he hurried through the door.

"Pete just dialled this number. The trace is still working," Hawkes explained.

Danny walked over to the screen and swore.

"What?" Stella asked him.

"That's Flack's number. What's he doing with Flack's number?" Danny pulled out his cell and rang Flack.

"_What's up, Messer?_"

"What did Pete have to say for himself?" Danny demanded.

"_What the hell are you talking about?_"

"He just rang you."

"_No, he didn't. It was Officer Barnette._"

"Flack, that was Pete. Where are you?" Danny asked, urgently.

"I've got a location," Sheldon interrupted, "The cell is at… it's Taylor's address. Pete's at Taylor's."

Flack, who had heard what Hawkes had said, swore, very loudly. "_I'm on my way to the precinct. I thought the chief needed to see me._"

Stella ripped the phone out of Danny's hands, ""Flack, get back to Taylor's now. We're on our way with backup."

. . .

Flack hung up, throwing his cell into his pocket as he turned his lights and sirens on. The traffic honked loudly at him as he swung his car around in the middle of the traffic, and headed back the way he came. He ignored them and put his foot down, pulling up outside Taylor's building only minutes later. Leaving the door open, the sirens and lights blazing, Flack abandoned the car in the middle of the street and dashed towards the front door. He ripped it open and was about to run in when he heard a scream.

He turned around, drawing his gun and headed for the alley from where it had originated. As she ran into it, he spotted Pete on top of Taylor, his arm extended and holding a knife above her, which he was about to bring down.

"FREEZE!" Flack yelled.

Pete barely glanced at him.

"DROP THE KNIFE!"

Pete did. Only his hand was still holding onto it as he brought it down.

Flack fired twice, both shots hitting Pete in his upper back. Pete slumped forward onto Taylor.

With his gun still out, Flack hurried over to Taylor. She pushed the body off her and lay there, staring at the sky, tears running down the sides of her face. Flack stepped over Pete and crouched down beside her, "You're alright, now," he told her. And then he noticed the blood leaking from her upper arm.

He put his gun away, and pulled his jacket and tie off before practically ripping his shirt off and pressing it against the cut. He was reaching for his phone when the flash of metal caught his attention in the corner of his eye. He'd forgotten to do one of the most important things – secure the scene – and it was going to cost him, he realised as Pete stabbed the knife at him, connecting with its target.


	40. Death Is Only The Beginning

_This chapter is dedicated to meadow567 for giving me the chapter title._

_09/06/2006_

**Chapter 39: Death Is Only The Beginning **

Taylor stared numbly at the coffin in front of her as it was lowered into the dry dirt. A week later and she was still numb. After being patched up at the hospital, she had discharged herself and gone straight to the morgue and pulled open one of the lockers demanding to the body laying in front of her cough up its spirit so she could talk to it. But there had been no response.

She had never expected to have to deal with one of her friends being killed, but she had equally not expected the ghost of said friend to not appear when she wanted it to. As a result, she turned her back on both ghosts who had been to visit her, ignoring them, and telling them that she would continue to ignore the ghosts sent to her now. She never even got to say goodbye.

She glanced down the line of mourners. Everyone was there to say their own goodbyes. They'd all been friends. Marty, who had returned from his conference early the second he had heard what had happened, placed his hand on her shoulder.

Taylor shrugged him off. She wasn't in any mood for sympathy right now, only answers. She turned around and left, ignoring the surprised glances she was receiving from everyone, including the priest, who was mid-prayer.

She went straight for exit and walked out of the cemetery, walking until she could hail a cab. When she did, she gave him directions to go to Maddy's old apartment. She paid the driver and left heading straight for the deserted doors in front of her. Instead of entering the building, she leant against the tree in front of the building.

Taylor rested her head against the gnarly bark. "Maddy," her whisper was lost in the wind. She sank to her knees and shut her eyes trying to fight back the many painful memories that she'd been trying to hide over past few days.

She wasn't sure how long she had been sat on the pavement, nor was she aware that it had gone cold, not even that her legs were beginning to turn blue from being so cold. Despite it being midsummer, the night had a distinct chill to it. In fact, the only reason no-one had come up to her at this point, was probably the fact that very few people had walked past, and those that had ignored her like they would ignore the homeless which littered the street.

"Hey." Taylor looked up, vaguely focusing on the blue eyes that were staring back at her, lined with concern. "Jesus, Taylor, you must be half frozen."

Taylor gazed down at her legs, not really registering much. If she had been in her companions shoes, at this point, she would have said that she was in shock. Fortunately, her companion had already figured this out.

"Come on, let's get you somewhere warm." He gently pulled her to her feet, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "You really are half frozen," he muttered as he began to rub her arms and back. He quickly led her to his car and helped her in, before turning up the heat as far as it would go, and draping his own coat over her.

Taylor spent the entire journey looking like she was staring at the clock on the dashboard, but not once did the green numbers register in her mind. In fact, the entire journey didn't really register. She was only vaguely aware of being led into an apartment complex, of the long elevator ride up, and into one of the apartments. She was led through the open plan living area and into a bedroom where she was led to the bed.

Taylor sat on the edge of his bed, allowing him to dress her in his spare sweatpants, extra socks and a few sweaters, before he manoeuvred her up beside him, under the covers, and wrapped his arms around her.

Finally, Taylor began to cry. He didn't say anything, he just held her tightly, stroking her hair, until she fell asleep on him.

. . .

_Taylor looked up as the blood began to drip into her face, mixing with her tears and Pete's blood which had been splattered on her only minutes earlier. Her eyes focused on the knife which was now protruding from Flack's upper arm._

_As Flack's eyes went from the knife to meet hers, a small "o" of surprise on his lips, shots rang off from the entrance to the alleyway. All four of them flew millimetres above her to hit Pete and he slumped back to the ground. This time, he wasn't getting up._

_Flack continued to stare at Taylor as Stella, Danny and Lindsay dashed over, followed by Sheldon and a good half a dozen uniforms. She could hear shouts for medical back-up, but she wasn't sure who was shouting, as Flack was pulled off her by Sheldon who turned doctor in an instant, inspecting the wound._

_Taylor could see Stella's beautiful face hovering above hers as it slowly went fuzzy, and then black._

_She awoke in a hospital some time later, with her arm tightly wrapped up in bright white bandages, her feet in fresh white bandages, and a drip in her arm. Ignoring the doctor's protests, she demanded that the drip be removed and then discharged herself AMA._

_Her first trip was to find Flack. Visiting hours were long over and he was lying fast asleep in his bed, his arm bandaged in a similar place. The doctor refused to release too much information, but the gist of it was that he would be alright. The knife had missed all major muscles and only nicked a minor artery – he would be back at work tomorrow._

_She gave him one last look before leaving the hospital and flagging a cab down. The Morgue was dead, no pun intended, when she arrived. The CSIs on duty were clearly having a slow night, and Sid, or any other ME, for that matter, were nowhere in sight._

_Taylor headed over to the metal crypts and read the labels looking for the desired door. She found it and pulled it out, staring at the body that lay upon it._

_She pulled up a stool and sat there, staring at the body for the longest time, waiting for the ghost of Maddy to appear. When she didn't, her anger began to boil. "Maddy!" She shouted at the empty room, "Maddy!"_

_"Taylor?"_

_Taylor whirled around at the voice, but instead of finding the image of Maddy, she found a very solid Marty, bags at his feet. "Marty?" she questioned, choking back a sob. "What are you doing here?"_

_"I was given a heads-up and caught the first flight back."_

_"But why are you _here_?" she asked gesturing to the morgue_

_Marty walked over to her. "Sixth sense," he shrugged, before wrapping his arms around her. "Come on, Taylor, let's get you home."_

_Taylor shook her head, pulling away, "No, Marty. Not yet."_

_Marty sighed, "Taylor, she's gone," he told her gently._

_"No, her ghost came to me, Marty. When she died. She has to come back to me one last time – to say goodbye."_

_"What if that was her goodbye?" Marty suggested softly._

_"No," Taylor disagreed, "Maddy wouldn't say goodbye like that. We're too close, and we've been through too much."_

_"Well then, don't you think that Maddy would rather say goodbye somewhere other than a morgue?" he suggested._

_Taylor thought about it, and reluctantly allowed Marty to take her home, where she waited patiently for Maddy to turn up. As she awoke – well, she had stopped sleeping, making sure she stayed awake, just in case – on the morning of the funeral, she knew that she wouldn't be coming._

. . .

Taylor awoke a few hours later with a start, and looked around. At first, she didn't remember where she was, or whose arms she was in. She looked up, thankfully not disturbing the man whose chest she was resting against.

She carefully pulled herself out of his grasp without waking him and walked into the kitchen, rolling the sleeves on the large sweatshirt up, so she could pour herself a glass of water. Why she had chosen to dream about that was beyond her.

"Hi Taylor."

Taylor spun around to find Maddy in front of her. Pushing the strange sense of déjà vu out of her head, she set the mug down before she dropped it.

"Maddy!"

"In the flesh… well, something like that?" Maddy offered with a sheepish grin.

"It's not funny, Maddy," she said, trying to glare at her friend, but failing miserably – she was too happy. Her face fell when she realised why she was there. "So this is goodbye, then?"

"Actually, no," Maddy told her.

Taylor frowned, "Is it my time?"

Maddy laughed, "Far from it."

"Well then, what do you mean?" Taylor asked her.

"I got a new job." Taylor was completely lost. "I'm not a supply teacher anymore. I'm still a kind of teacher though."

"I don't understand," Taylor told her, shaking her head.

"The Powers That Be, listened to your plea," she chuckled. "Look at that, maybe I should have dabbled in poetry when I was alive."

"Hang on," Taylor cut her off, "What are you talking about?"

"You asked, on more than one occasion, for the spirits that visit you to have someone with them whilst you help them – so they're not alone," Maddy reminded her.

"And?" This wasn't making much sense to Taylor, at this point.

"And, that someone is now me." Maddy threw her arms in the air. "Ta-da!"

"I didn't ask that for you to die. I take it back!" Taylor cried, tears threatening to appear again.

Maddy smiled patiently. "Taylor, it was my time to die regardless of what you asked them. Their thank you to you was to allow me to be the one that helps."

"But I-" Taylor started to object.

Maddy shook her head and cut her off. "It wasn't your fault, in any way, shape, or form. Everyone has to die," she laughed. "Death is a hereditary disease, after all."

"That's not funny," Taylor repeated, biting back the tears.

Maddy sighed. "I know. Look, there's a lot more going off in this life that you, or I know about. My death was all part of a plan in the great scheme of things."

"And what would that be?" Taylor demanded.

Maddy shrugged, "Life."

"Life?" Taylor repeated in disbelief.

"Look, I haven't been dead long enough to know what the plan is with life. I'm not sure I will ever be dead long enough. But what I am here to tell you is that, even though I am dead, I'm not gone. We made a pact in high school that we would be friends to the end. Well guess what, Taylor. This isn't the end. There's still a hell of a lot more to come, and from what I can gather, it's not going to get that much easier."

"Why me?" Taylor asked her.

"Why me?" Maddy threw back at her. "I've told you, I've not been dead long enough to have any answers yet. Give me some time."

Taylor thought about it, growing hopeful. "So, I'm going to be able to see you?"

"Well, you won't be able to call around for a chat and a glass of wine like we used to before Pete, but I can pop in occasionally, when I'm not working," Maddy told her brightly. "Plus I'll be able to help you on cases. That should be fun. I might be around a lot more if you work with that Sheldon."

Even though she was crying, Taylor managed to laugh. "You always fall for the decent guy when it's too late."

"What? You think he might object to dating a dead girl?" Maddy asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

"I think the lack of body might be an issue," Taylor agreed, unable to keep the smile from her face.

Maddy smiled back. "That's better. Don't stop smiling, Taylor."

Taylor's smile broke, "But-"

"Ah, no buts. I'm not here, but I'm not gone. Remember, la muerte es sólo el principio."

"Death is only the beginning?" Taylor quickly translated.

Maddy nodded. "Now, I have to go. I have training to complete before I can do anything. Would you believe it," she scoffed. "I'm dead, yet I still have to go get an education. I thought we finished with that." She smiled, "I love you."

Taylor smiled back, "I love you."

"Um…. Alright…" Taylor whirled around and found Flack behind her looking, well, petrified sprang to mind.

"No," she said quickly, "I was talking to Maddy." She turned back to the ghost, but she was gone.

"Taylor," Flack paused, wondering how tactful it would be to say that there were no such things as ghosts. Deciding against it he opted for something else. "You can have my bed. I'll take the couch."

Taylor looked at him and sighed, "We've shared a bed before, we can do it again. It's got to be more comfortable that the couch."

Flack nodded. He wasn't particularly wanting to root out a blanket and pillow.


	41. The Dead Eat Better

_Spoliers for 2x15; Fair Game_

_10/06/2006_

**Chapter 40: The Dead Eat Better**

"Roger, I appreciate the gesture, I really do, but this is really not what I thought you meant when you were talking about getting me out of the house."

"Taylor, you're right, part of the reason was to stop you moping in your room. I know Maddy was a close friend, but it's been three weeks – you have to start living again. However, the other reason was because I owed Omar a favour. You got him Carol Williams' number for him and he said to bring you to this event instead of him."

Taylor glanced at her colleague. She hadn't been moping – far from it. In fact if he'd have seen her, he'd have thought she was convinced her friend was still around. Well, technically, she was. Admittedly, she was on the slightly transparent side, and Taylor hadn't seen her since Flack's apartment, but she was around still. No, what Taylor had actually been doing was research for an upcoming three-edition special.

The research was actually killing people. With water guns, that was. Alex had told her that the chief of police wanted an article running about the new craze which had hit the streets, being as it was getting dangerous. Alex had run the article, but he had also made Taylor sign up. She's been doing really well and had manage to 'kill' eight targets, but then she realised that she was actually more famous than she thought. Someone had been complimenting her on her column and then 'shot' her. So she was out of the game.

Instead of telling Roger this, she stared at the food in front of her. "Roger, a boat trip, a walk around Central Park, even a hot dog from the corner of 56th – that would have been a welcome distraction. Bugs are not."

"Come on, Taylor," he grinned popping a handful of live water bugs in his mouth.

Taylor watched as one jumped out, before he started chewing, and blanched. "The whale bacon wasn't that bad. Even the duck foetus wasn't as terrible as I thought it was, but bugs I draw the line at."

"Taylor, everybody else in this room has paid $10,000 for this, and you've got it free because you're with me," Omar pointed out.

"If I'd have known that this was the menu before I got here, you wouldn't have got me to come if you paid _me_ $10,000!" She pushed her bowl away from her.

"If the water bugs are not to your liking, can I offer you a live octopus?"

Taylor looked up at the head chef who was offering her, well, an octopus on a stick.

Taylor could feel the whale bacon ad duct foetus begin to churn in her stomach as she watched the tentacles wriggle about. "No, thank you," she told him. He smiled and wandered off, in search of another victim. "And I wonder why I'm losing so much weight, these days," she muttered, before realising that there was someone else stood next to her.

Her eyes settled on the blood on his chest in her eye line, before allowing her eyes to travel upwards to the man's face.

"Get him."

"Taylor? Are you alright?"

Taylor turned her attention back to the food critic in front of her. "Yeah, I… uh, I don't think this food is settling too well with me." Strictly not a lie. She excused herself from the table and left. As she stood waiting for a cab, he appeared again, this time bringing a familiar face with him.

"Hey Tay!"

"Hi Maddy." She was wearing a white pant suit, with a gold top, and was… glowing.

"Sorry about him – he got away from me."

Taylor smiled, "So who is he, and how did he die?"

"Not a clue," Taylor shrugged.

Taylor raised an eyebrow at her dead friend, "I thought that you were here to help."

"I am, as much as I can. But these guys aren't exactly the chattiest of people. It's something to do with them being in limbo."

"So, what you're saying is that you're going to be supplying me with your own input on things, rather than theirs."

Maddy grinned. "Pretty much." She gave the ghost a prod. "Come on dead guy, spill your secrets."

Taylor bit back a smile, "I don't know what they taught you, but I'm pretty certain insulting the dead isn't the way to go."

The ghost opened his hand to show the picture of a tombstone of Samuel Cooper.

"Is that this guy?" Maddy asked her.

Taylor frowned. "I don't think so. Unless he's been dead for six months. It says the year he died was 2005. Which means he was probably killed there."

"Well, I've got to go, Tay. I'll catch you later."

Taylor smiled as the two ghosts disappeared. This was certainly going to be interesting.

. . .

"Taylor? Do you normally come to the cemetery at this time of night?" Stella asked as she watched her friend walk over.

Taylor frowned, and then realised what she was talking about. "Actually, I wasn't going to Maddy's grave. I've already seen her tonight."

"A ghost, I take it?" Stella asked.

Taylor nodded. "Yup. Some clue about Samuel Cooper."

"Yeah, that's where we found our vic." She pointed to a grave with a small screen in it.

"Oh. That's new," Taylor muttered in surprise, watching the display.

"Well, if you've got the money?" Stella shrugged.

Taylor laughed. "True. Have you already processed the scene, then?"

Stella nodded. "On the way to the morgue for the autopsy. Is Marty working tonight?"

"I don't know, actually. He's been a bit funny with me recently," Taylor admitted.

"He probably isn't sure how to act around you, considering what happened," Stella suggested. Taylor frowned, but said nothing. She was pretty sure that Maddy's death had nothing to do with it. "You want to come with me?"

"Not really, thanks. If I don't have to see a dead body, then I'm not going to."

Stella smiled, "Yeah, I can understand that. I take it you have no intention of going home, then?"

Taylor sighed. "Trust me when I say that when there's a ghost around, it's a wasted effort."

"I see." Stella looked at Taylor, as though noticing her for the first time. "Where on earth have you been this time, to be dressed up like that?"

"The Grandview Regent Hotel," Taylor replied.

"Sounds expensive. Who was the lucky guy?" Stella grinned.

Taylor snorted. "Try $10,000 worth of expensive. And I was tricked into going by our food critic."

"Tricked into going for a meal?" Stella asked as the two walked back to her SUV. "That cost $10,000? What were they serving? Dodo eggs?"

"I wish. Try, live and wriggling creepy crawlies, and interesting delicacies such as duck foetuses," she told her, unable to keep from shuddering.

"I think the word springing to mind, is ew," Stella agreed.

Taylor frowned. "The whale bacon, strangely alright. The rest of it. Yeah, you'd be right with ew."

. . .

Whilst Stella was in the morgue, Taylor set to researching the victim, Kyle Vance, and his connection to Samuel Cooper. As dawn broke, Maddy reappeared, minus Kyle. "Nice jacket."

Taylor spun around in her chair at a computer and pulled her glasses off – she only really wore them when she was sat in front of computers for long periods of time, as the light of the screen made her contacts itch. "You like?" The jacket she was referring to was a white crime lab one. Stella had dug one out for her, so that, despite the fact she was now a familiar face, and had an ID badge, she would have something to cover up the little black dress with a peasant neckline that she was still wearing. All she had in her locker were several other dresses from when she'd appeared at a crime scene wearing them.

"Kinda cute, yeah," Maddy nodded.

"How come you're here, then?"

Maddy looked around, "Thought I'd pop in and see how people were doing."

Taylor raised her eyebrows at her friend, "People? Isn't that classed as stalking?"

"I think the term for a ghost is actually haunting," Maddy froze, realizing what she had admitted to.

Taylor laughed, "Sheldon and Danny have been called out to a DB at a hotel."

"Firstly, what's a DB, and secondly, why isn't he working this case?" Maddy demanded, hands on her hips.

"A DB is a dead body. If you're sticking around, you're going to hear that term a few times. And I don't know why. You're stuck with Mac and Stella."

Maddy pouted. "Great. First job and it's not with my eye candy."

"You're dead and you're still horny," Taylor laughed. "Oh, some things never change."

"Right, well, if that cute butt isn't here, I think I had better get back to my DB," she grinned at Taylor at the use of the new term.

"I don't think that applies to a ghost," Taylor muttered, but Maddy had already gone.

Taylor yawned and decided that instead of continuing with the research, which was drawing a blank anyway, she would go get a coffee. She hung up her jacket and halfway to the break room realised that the coffee in the place was actually dreadful, so she changed direction, opting for the Starbucks across the street.

. . .

"Hey Mac, what are you up to?" Taylor rounded a corner on her way back to the lab, sipping on her coffee to find Mac staring at a man offloading stacks of newspapers.

Mac said nothing, merely holding his arm out, blocking Taylor from moving any further. Taylor frowned and took another sip, watching as the senior CSI took a couple of steps towards the man. "William Tucker?"

The man stopped what he was doing and glared a Mac. "Do I know you?"

"No," said Mac, pulling out his badge. "But you knew Kyle Vance, didn't you?"

William glared at Mac before grabbing a bunch of papers and throwing them at him. Mac dodged out of the way to start chasing him, as the papers caught Taylor's arm before knocking over a trash can. But not before her coffee had been spilt all down her.

Taylor gaped at the mess and looked up in time to see Flack appear with his gun drawn. He spotted Taylor as he cuffed the suspect and snorted in laughter at the sight of her. Taylor threw her cup down in frustration and stormed off past him, back to the lab.


	42. It Was All Supposed To Be A Game

_Spoliers for 2x15; Fair Game_

_11/06/2006_

**Chapter 41: It Was All Supposed To Be A Game**

Taylor reached into the back of her locker and pulled out the only outfit that wasn't a dress: her running clothes. Well, at least she had finally found them. She hadn't worn them since she the case with the ecstasy and that had been a good couple of months ago now. She pulled them on, even though they smelt a little musty – anything was better than smelling of coffee – and pulled her lab coat over the top to hide the outfit. She headed out of the locker room and down to the interview room, where she set up seat the other side of the mirror.

"You don't call, you don't write. I was starting to think you were seeing other detectives, William," Flack began.

On the other side of the glass, Taylor began giggling. She couldn't help it. She didn't know how he did it, but he could be extremely witty.

"You so like him."

Taylor turned around and found Maddy staring at her with a smirk on her face. "I think you've had your head in the clouds too long."

"I think you're living in denial land," Maddy corrected her.

Taylor rolled her eyes, "You do this with every guy I talk to."

"I could always follow him around, and find out for certain," her dead friend offered.

"If it wasn't for the fact it would go straight through you, I would be throwing something at you right now. Why don't you just stick to stalking Sheldon?" Taylor suggested.

Maddy grinned, "Don't worry. I have every intention of doing that." She stopped and stared at her friend.

"What?" Taylor asked her suspiciously.

"Yo le he perdido, Taylor, y lo siento que yo no le escuché acerca de Pete."

Taylor fought back the tears as Maddy disappeared, "I missed you too," she whispered.

The tears were suddenly forgotten about as Mac stood up and slammed the table into the suspect. "You think this is a game? We got you on burglary two, and you're a violent, persistent felon. No more get out of jail free cards, for you William."

Taylor blinked. It had been a long time since she'd seen Mac rattled like this. She'd clearly missed something when she had been talking to Maddy, because the expression on Flack's face was one that read he was annoyed Mac had done that first.

"Look, I don't know nothing about no cemetery, which is obviously where you found this Vance guy," said William, as he sat back in his chair, a smug expression on his face. "Which means you probably can't put me at the cemetery and now you're pressuring me for a confession? Which is why your veins are popping out your forehead, which, means we're done here."

Another 'which' and Taylor would have flung the desk at him.

"We're not done until a second life sentence is added to your time," Mac finished, storming out of the interview room, leaving Flack to get the officer to take William to booking. Taylor left the room as Flack did. He stopped when he spotted her and stared.

"What?" Taylor asked him.

"What happened to your skirt?"

Taylor looked down. The shorts she was wearing were actually that short, they were hidden the lab coat. She's wanted to hide the running outfit, but not that much. "Oh," she gasped, blushing brightly.

"Forget to get dressed properly?" he sniggered.

"No," she retorted, quickly recovering. "I spilt coffee down my dress this morning, and the only thing I had in my locker that wasn't another dress, was my running outfit."

Flack smirked.

"Oh, quit it," she told him, before he could comment. "At least I have a locker."

Flack looked behind her at the door she had stepped out of. "Do you normally watch interviews?"

Taylor nodded, "If I can, yes."

He frowned slightly. "Why?"

"Because the suspect may say something which makes what the ghosts tell me make sense," she frowned. "Does _that_ make sense?"

"It would," said Flack. "If ghosts actually existed."

"You know, one day, you are going to get a rude awakening when it comes to ghosts. And when they start haunting your ass Exorcist style, I'm just going to stand there and say, I told you so." Before he had the chance to respond, she spun on her heel and stormed off. _Like him_? Maddy was talking trash.

. . .

"BOO!"

Taylor leapt off the chair in fright to find Maddy clutching her sides in laughter, with a less than amused Kyle next to her. "Maddy! I'm not ready to be joining you, yet," she scolded her friend as she waited for her heart to slow down to a normal pace.

"You're not joining me for a while, yet," Maddy told her as she tried to control her laughter.

"Keep that up, and I might," she grumbled.

"So, I'm actually here because Casper here has something to give to you."

Taylor's mouth fell open. "Maddy, you can't call him Casper – it's disrespectful."

"I can. What's he going to do about it?" she shrugged. "Strangle me? Because I've been there, done that, and I'm wearing the suit."

Taylor threw a pen at her. "You really need to work on your sense of humour," she growled as the pen sailed through her friend and hit the wall behind. Maddy gave her a grin and threw the pen back, before pushing the ghost towards her.

"Get him," he told her, offering her three business cards.

Taylor took them and looked at them, Kyle Vance, Wedding Planner Extraordinaire; Kyle Vance Travels; Kyle Vance Casting ASA. "I thought you were an ADA," she said, looking up, but the ghost had vanished, taking Maddy with him.

Taylor frowned and turned to the computer. Ten minutes later, she had an address.

. . .

"Taylor, can I speak to you?" Lindsay asked, hurrying to catch up with her.

"Yeah, of course," said Taylor, "How did that address work for you?"

"That's why I wanted to talk to you. Before Mac." Lindsay looked around and then pulled her into an empty office.

Taylor frowned, "That sounds ominous, Lindsay."

Lindsay bit her lip, "I found this," she told her, handing her an envelope with RIP written on the front of it.

Taylor took it and opened it, pulling out about a dozen photographs, "I'm not following, Linds."

"Do any of those faces look familiar to you?"

Taylor leafed through them and suddenly stopped as she found herself staring at… herself. "Oh, crap."

"Yeah," Lindsay agreed.

"I guess we had better see Mac," said Taylor, pushing the photographs back into the envelope..

"You know what this is about?" Lindsay asked in surprise.

"Yeah, but I think it would be better if I explained this to Mac at the same time." She handed the envelope back to Lindsay and the two of them hurried down the corridor to find Mac. He was with Stella in his office.

"Mac, have you got a minute?" Lindsay asked as Taylor followed her in.

Mac took one look at Lindsay and nodded, "What's the matter?"

"Well," Taylor began, "First of all, not only was Kyle Vance an ADA, he was also a wedding planner, a travel agent, and a casting director."

Lindsay glanced at Taylor, who smiled at her, "Taylor found a lead and I went to an office he had rented out. He'd dressed it to look like three different offices. When I went in, it was all set up to be a casting office. He had movie posters, video cameras – everything."

"Which means he was pretending to be someone he wasn't," said Mac.

"But why?" Stella asked.

"There was also another popped balloon," Lindsay continued.

"And she found these," said Taylor, taking the envelope back off Lindsay and handing it to Mac.

Mac looked from Taylor, to Lindsay, and finally to the envelope, pulling out the photographs. The first one was the one of Taylor, a giant red cross though her. "What's this?"

"Your vic was playing Water Gun Wars," Taylor explained.

"And you know this, how?" Mac asked her.

"Because I was killed playing it," she told him, pointing to the photograph.

"Water Gun Wars?" asked Stella, her eyebrows arched.

"It was something that Alex, my editor, set me on. Basically, you become an assassin. You get given a dossier from The Supreme Commander, which includes a photograph of your target, and their home and work addresses. To advance, you either shoot your target with a water gun, or a water balloon. Once you've 'killed' them, you inherit their target," Taylor explained, using finger quotes. "The last one standing wins $100,000."

"Who is this Supreme Commander?" Mac asked her, a frown on his face.

"I really don't know, and I've spent two weeks trying to track him down. To enter, you call a 1-800 number, and then he contacts you anonymously for you to pick up your dossier at an abandoned warehouse," Taylor continued.

"So how does Vance fit into this?"

"Sounds like someone was got him before he got them," said Stella.

"So who was his target?" Lindsay asked.

Taylor pointed to a photograph of a girl whose face hadn't been handed out.

"We know her," said Mac. He turned to Taylor. "You should stay here."

Taylor nodded and watched the three walk away. She decided to head back to the computer and finish her research on Vance – he seemed to be leading a double life. Only on the way, she spotted Maddy sat on a table across from Danny, watching him process some clothing.

Maddy spotted her and pointed to Sheldon - who had only just walked in the lab, a few paces in front of Taylor, so hadn't noticed her – an enormous grin on her face. Taylor rolled her eyes and leant against the door frame.

"You handing out cigars, papa?" Danny asked Hawkes as he approached the table.

Sheldon grinned at him, "Not yet – eggs are still incubating."

Taylor frowned. After that 'feast' the night before, she wasn't sure she could stomach the thought of more creepy crawlies.

"Any trace of our baker on that bowtie?" Sheldon continued.

Danny pulled a face. "The only thing we know is that our killer had a seventeen and a half inch neck."

"Hetu's looked smaller."

"Yeah," Danny agreed. "Doesn't help put him at our vic's apartment. What you got?"

Sheldon flung a folder at him. "Stomach contents," he explained, as Danny pulled a sheet of paper out. "Safe to say our vic wasn't on the Zone."

"Water bugs, duck foetus, whale bacon?"

Taylor spluttered from the doorway. All three faces turned to look at her.

"Are you alright?" Danny asked.

Taylor rubbed her forehead, "Actually, I think you just described last night's menu. Exotic cuisine."

"You think?" exclaimed Hawkes.

"What do you mean, last night's menu?" Danny asked her warily.

"Exotic Cuisine," Taylor explained. "One of our food critics dragged me to this thing that's going on at the Grandview Regent this week. Black tie affair where the super rich get together and eat crazy stuff, including what you just reeled off."

"I saw an ad for that in the paper," said Danny in agreement. "Are you telling me that you ate that?"

Taylor pulled a face, "Some of it. I drew the line at what was still alive."

"Duck foetus?" Hawkes questioned.

"It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but I'm never touching it again," Taylor added with a shudder.

Sheldon turned to Danny, "Well, that would explain the bowtie, fancy dress by the bed."

Danny pushed a photograph over to Taylor, "That's our vic. Do you recognise her?"

Taylor glanced at the picture and shook her head. "I didn't stay for long, and there was actually a lot of people there. I'm sorry."

"No worries," said Danny. He turned back to Hawkes. "What do you think?" Danny asked him, "You hungry?"

Sheldon nodded, "Let's go."

The two said goodbye to Taylor and left. "Wait for me!" Maddy shouted, tearing off after the two. Taylor laughed and headed back to the computer lab.


	43. Grub's Up

_Spoliers for 2x15; Fair Game_

_11/06/2006_

**Chapter 42: Grub's Up**

Taylor was coming out of the bathroom when Flack stormed past her, practically knocking her back into the bathroom. What was worse, he didn't even seem to notice her. Watching him slam the door to the break room closed behind him, and making the glass in it shake, she followed him. "Are you alright?" she asked him softly, as he rammed the empty coffee pot back into the machine.

"Does no one refill the coffee around here?" he snarled, throwing things around as he made a fresh pot.

"Flack, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he snapped at her, putting his hands on the counter and leaning into the sink.

"You normally send women flying and not stop to check they're okay when nothing's wrong?" she asked him, placing her hand gently on one of his.

Flack looked down at it. "What do you want, Taylor?"

"You practically tore that door down. I just wanted to check you were ok."

Flack sighed and dropped his head. "We found Jennifer. Only she pulled a gun on me."

Taylor's eyes shot wide open. "Did she-"

"No," Flack cut her off. "An officer shot her and stopped her before she could get it out of her pocket. It was a water gun. She thought I was after her."

Taylor choked back a smile. "And this put you in a bad mood, why?"

Flack pulled his hand out from under hers and spun to face her. "Because the entire precinct now knows about it, which is why I am in here trying to get a cup of coffee, rather than over there, except there is no fu-"

"Flack, sit down," Taylor ordered, pushing him onto the couch. She headed back to the coffee pot and busied herself with making a cup. "There you go," she said, giving it to him. "Now, I'm not sure adding caffeine to your system is a good idea, but if it helps, I'm all for it." She perched herself on the arm of the couch and watched him drink. "Next time you get stressed, come vent it at me, rather than the furniture which can't stand up for itself." Taylor got up and headed for the door. "Now, don't even think about leaving here until you've calmed down," she told him. "Go take a shower if you need to. That usually helps me." She left and was heading back to the computer when she was noticed Mac, Stella and Lindsay chatting in the hallway. "I see you found Jennifer."

Mac turned and looked at her. "How did you find that out?"

"Flack," she shrugged. There was no need to go into details.

"Jennifer confirmed your story about Water Gun Wars," said Mac.

Taylor pulled a face. "Okay, did you really think I needed my 'story' confirming?"

"Actually, no," said Mac, "I'd heard it mentioned by the commissioner before, but it just means you are now in the clear."

"She didn't kill him," Stella explained, "She _was_ his target, though."

"I've just thought, Vance booby trapped his apartment to keep other players out, not William Tucker," said Lindsay, after a thought.

"Why go through all the trouble of renting an office and pretending to be a wedding planner, or a casting director?" asked Stella.

"Jennifer Cooper says creativity is encouraged," Mac pulled a photograph of a blonde, "She 'killed' this girl by bribing a cab driver."

"That's not all that creative, or original," muttered Taylor. She looked up from the picture to the three puzzled faces. "That's how I was 'killed'."

Mac shook his head. "The victim lured his targets to the office and took them out of the game."

"It's pretty clever," said Lindsay, looking at Taylor. "Sounds like fun, actually."

"It was," Taylor agreed. "I was actually really peeved when I was taken out."

"Yeah," said Stella. "Except someone in this game is killing people for real. And they might kill again."

"It looks like you were lucky," commented Lindsay. "It looks like our suspects are active players."

"Well the pictures without the x's are the people who are still alive," said Mac. Whilst talking, the four of them had walked into his office and were now looking at the crime photos which were stuck to his glass board. "If we're going to catch this guy, we've got to play the game. Become assassin and track down the active players until we find one holding Kyle Vance's picture, and whoever has it – that's our killer."

Taylor clapped her hands together. "Alright! I'm back in the game!"

"Actually, Taylor, if you're going to help, it's going to be here. I don't want you going out in the field," Mac told her. "We've already established that one of these players is killing the participants," he added at the sight of her glum face. "And you are not armed."

"Alright," she reluctantly agreed.

"Who's our first target?" asked Stella.

"This guy."

. . .

After being sent to the computer whilst the others tracked down the participants of the game, Taylor had decided that she would work on her column until either Mac came back, or until Maddy and Kyle appeared. But it was neither who disturbed her. It was actually a detective.

"You."

Taylor turned around and peered questioningly at the dark haired detective. "Can I help you?"

"I want you to research Tony Collins for me."

"Excuse me?" Taylor asked, blinking.

"I want you to run a background check on Tony Collins. Is that such a hard thing to comprehend?" the female detective asked, looking at her like she was an idiot.

"Not at all, but I'm not a lab tech, or a researcher," Taylor pointed out.

The detective glared at her. "Then why are you wearing a lab coat? Look I don't have time for this. Page me when you're done."

Taylor's mouth dropped open as she followed the detective out of the room with her eyes. She was tempted to get up and find the detective so she could tell her exactly where she could stick that idea, but her curiosity got the better of her – she was a journalist, after all.

After saving her column, she began doing exactly what the detective asked and had soon pulled up some interesting information – Tony had changed his name five years ago from Larry Whitford after his restaurant had been sued and put out of business by the victim,

"She wants to impress Danny."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Taylor asked Maddy who had suddenly appeared next to her with Kyle.

"Detective Maka likes Danny," Maddy elaborated. "She was asking Sheldon if he was seeing anyone earlier. She wants the information so she can impress him."

"Is that her name?" Taylor started, and then frowned. "Have you been following Sheldon around all day?"

"Not _all_ day," Maddy told her, pouting slightly.

Taylor couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Being here with me now doesn't count, Maddy."

Maddy opened her mouth, but couldn't come up with something to say. "At least I didn't follow him into the bathroom," she offered.

"Oh, and what stopped you?"

"Get him," said Kyle, holding up a book.

Taylor looked pointedly at Maddy, "It was Kyle, wasn't it." Maddy said nothing. "For crying out loud, Maddy. You're dead."

"Yeah, but because I can't touch doesn't mean I can't look."

Taylor shook her head. "You are terrible. You're supposed to be looking after him."

Maddy 's pout was back. "Yeah, well… you're supposed to be looking at the clues he's giving you."

"Fine, but leave Sheldon alone. Really, the last thing he needs is a dead stalker."

"Fine," Maddy reluctantly agreed.

"Get him."

Taylor sighed and turned her attention to the book. "_Of Mice and Men_? What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

"Get him."

Taylor looked hopelessly at Maddy, who just shrugged at her. "Thanks," Taylor muttered, as the two disappeared again. She gathered up the printed information she had found on Collins, and left the computer lab.

She found Detective Maka in the hallway, or rather, Detective Maka found her. "I thought I told you to page me," she shot at her, as she snatched the folder out of Taylor's hands.

"Now, hang on a minute," Taylor said to the retreating body. "Firstly, it's rude to snatch, secondly, a thank you would be nice, thirdly, I didn't have your number as you didn't give it me, and finally, I am not a researcher. I am a journalist. I don't get paid to do your grunt work."

Detective Maka looked her up and down, before turning and leaving without saying anything.

If looks could have killed, Taylor would have been continuing that conversation with a ghost. Instead, she refrained from pulling off her shoe and launching it at her head (after having done that at Flack so many times, it had actually become almost therapeutic) and instead went to find Mac. "_Of Mice and Men_."

"I'm sorry?" Mac asked, his expression blank.

Taylor sighed. "The last clue I got from Vance's ghost was _Of Mice and Men_."

"Taylor," Mac began.

"The victim was killed with a blank gun," Stella interrupted.

Mac frowned. "And he lured his victims into his fake office."

Stella nodded. "The last way his office was set up was for a casting office – like somebody was auditioning."

"Blanks, an audition, and a-"

"Headshot," Stella finished.

"Our shooter has a flare for the dramatic."

"He's an actor," said Taylor, brightly. "And considering the office was set up for an audition suggests that he is probably out there auditioning for a role in an upcoming production _Of Mice and Men_."

Mac studied his glass board and plucked a photograph of a Chris Matthews from it, "Let's find this guy."

"Nice job," said Stella as she and Mac left the office.

Taylor smiled and headed back to the computer. She had a column to finish.

. . .

"Hey Drew!"

Taylor hit the send button on the email and turned to find Danny poking his head around the door. "What's up, Danny?"

"Did you order takeout?"

Taylor shook her head, suddenly wishing she had. "No, but I could go for something to eat."

"Well, you have a delivery in reception," Danny informed her.

Taylor frowned and followed Danny to the floor's reception area, where, sure enough, there was a delivery guy waiting for her. "I didn't order anything," she told him.

The delivery guy handed it over anyway. "It was sent from a Mr Furness. He said to let you know that you missed out on another great evening of culinary delights, and he didn't want you to get hungry, because you've been looking a little thin, lately." Taylor was going to kill Roger for that comment. She sighed and carried the box into the break room.

"What have we got, then Drew?" Danny asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Whatever you want, because I am not touching it," Taylor told him, dumping the box on the table and backing away.

"Taylor, one of those boxes is chirping," said Mac. He was sat in the break room enjoying a cup of coffee.

"That really does not surprise me," Taylor told him.

"Hang on," said Danny. "Has this come from the Regent?"

Taylor nodded. "Yup, courtesy of Roger Furness. He thinks he's doing me a favour."

Danny laughed. "It's alright, Drew. We'll eat it, wont we, Mac?"

Mac pulled a face. "Danny I think you will be the only one eating that. Except maybe Lindsay," he added as an afterthought.

"Montana?" asked Danny, peering into some of the containers. "She won't touch this."

"Twenty says she will," said Mac.

Taylor looked at Mac, who gave her a wink, which was thankfully missed by Danny. "Yeah, I'll bet you twenty she eats it, as well," Taylor quickly agreed.

Danny looked between them both. "Deal. You'd better have the cash on you." He looked behind Taylor and waved at someone to come over. It was Flack and Stella.

"What's going on here?" Stella asked, eyeing up the containers.

"A bet," said Mac.

"We bet Danny that Lindsay would eat whatever was in those takeaway boxes," said Taylor as Danny walked to the door.

"Yo, Hawkes!" he yelled out into the corridor. Sheldon, who was walking past the break room, came over. "We've got some grub in here."

Sheldon smiled and came in. The smile quickly dropped from his face when he noticed the contents of one of the boxes moving, or rather, wriggling. "When you say 'grub'…?"

Danny didn't answer, instead leaning out of the room. "MONTANA!" he bellowed down the hallway, causing everyone in the vicinity to jump in fright.

"Danny, use your cell. Or better yet, go get her," Stella reprimanded him, beating Mac to it.

"No need," he said. "Here comes Monroe now."

"What is it, Messer?" she asked him wearily.

"Food's here."

Lindsay frowned, and then shrugged, sitting herself down at the table. "You could have just used the phone," she told him. "Or come and got me. I was only in the trace lab."

"That's exactly what I just told him," said Stella.

"Alright," said Danny, ignoring them both and carrying the tray over to Lindsay. "I got mealworm spaghetti, stinkbug pate - that's nice. Cricket croquets, braised ant brochette, Thai dragonflies – who's going first?"

"Not even if you paid me," said Taylor taking a step back – she'd had enough of bugs, and she was no longer feeling all that hungry.

"You've got to be kidding," Stella said, waving the food away.

Flack pulled a face. "Pass."

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "It's just protein," she told them, grabbing a deep fried spider on a stick and taking a bite out of the legs. Watching her chew on the spider's legs, which she knew were hairy and… spider's legs, Taylor felt positively nauseous. And Roger thought she was getting too thin.

"Told you she'd do it," said Mac.

Taylor smiled, grateful that her mind was being taken off the 'food' in front of her, "Cough up, Messer."

"Heh heh heh," Danny faked the laugh. "Alright, alright." He pulled out two twenties from his back pocket and placed each in Mac and Taylor's outstretched hands. "There you go," he told them begrudgingly.

"Ok," said Mac, brightly. "Pizza in my office."

"You bet Mac and Taylor I wouldn't do it?" asked Lindsay in surprise.

"Yeah," said Danny, taking the seat next to Lindsay. "What was I thinking – betting against a county girl?"

"You know, it's actually not that bad," Lindsay told them, reaching for another bug on a stick.

"Well, try it with some grasshopper chutney," Danny said, offering her a pot.

Taylor looked around and realised that everyone had gone. "Well, let me know how it was," she told them.

"You're not staying? I can't interest you in wasp tamale?" Danny offered, holding out a paper bag.

Taylor pulled a face. "I told you: not even if you paid me. It's just going to be you two," she added, a small smile on her face. "Good one, Mac," she muttered under her breath after she had left the room.

She went to the locker room and peeled of her lab coat. She glanced down at her outfit. "Well, when in Rome," she muttered, pulling her locker door open. She stopped as she noticed three dry cleaning bags hanging up. Taylor hung the lab coat up and pulled the first bag out. It contained the dress she had spilt the coffee down, now minus the coffee. Attached to it was a note; _thanks for the coffee. I was going to return the favour, but you'd already had enough earlier_. Taylor smiled and hung it back up.

"Who have you got doing your laundry?"

"Hello, Maddy," said Taylor, without turning around.

"Sheldon should wear beiges and browns more often. They really suit him."

Taylor turned around to face her friend. "Not only are you dead, he can't see you. There is no chance of you and him ever having a relationship."

"You want to bet on that?" Maddy asked with a sly smile.

"Maddy, firstly, you have nothing to bet with, secondly, I've just won a bet, thirdly, you're dead!" Taylor pointed out for the umpteenth time.

Maddy grinned. "You really need to stop listing things. Besides, you're always telling me, where there's a will, there's a way."

"But Maddy, there's no body, never mind a will," Taylor said, somewhat exasperated.

"You'll see. Anyway, I'm not here about that. Kyle here wants to say thanks." She nodded her head in the direction of the ghost next to her, who was now all cleaned up and wearing a white suit.

"Thank you, Taylor."

Taylor smiled at him. "You're welcome, Kyle. I just hope madam here didn't upset you too much."

"Actually, she did a pretty good job," the ghost informed her. "She only left me when she realised I needed to be alone."

Next to him, Maddy smirked at her. "Well, that's good to know. Take care, Kyle."

"You too."

Both ghosts disappeared and Taylor turned to shut her locker. She made to leave the locker room, but was stopped by Stella who was coming in. "Here you are. Are you not joining us for pizza?"

Taylor shook her head, "I thought it was just for you guys."

"You are one of 'us guys'," Stella informed her.

Taylor frowned. "But I don't work here."

"Not getting paid, you don't," Stella told her, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. Taylor grinned and allowed the Greek CSI to lead her to the pizza.


	44. Coney Island Relief

_12/06/2006_

**Chapter 43: Coney Island Relief**

"I got you, I got you on my mind  
and it's time to make you see what I want  
so I'll just make this a little more obvious  
cuz I get what I want, and I want you to get with me!

Don't think you know,  
how far I'm gonna do

You can't stop this, feeling!  
You can't run away, baby I'm what's on your mind  
you can't stop this, feeling!  
There's no escape,  
no sleep tonight,  
you won't get, no sleep tonight," Taylor sang cheerfully, dancing around her apartment.

"Someone's cheerful," commented Marty, who was stood in the doorway watching her.

"That's because it's a beautiful day."

"Nothing to do with the barbeque?"

Pizza had led to a long night in Mac's office with everyone chatting about their plans for the weekend - minus Danny and Lindsay, who were still enjoying their bugs a couple of hours later. Sheldon declared that the weather for the weekend had given a mini heat wave, temperatures in the mid 90s. After a few minutes, everyone had agreed to a barbeque on Coney Island Beach.

"Well, that might play a part. I've not been to the beach since I visited home a few years ago," she continued to dance around her bedroom, making Marty laugh.

"Come on, you. We should get going," he told her.

Taylor grabbed a large bag she had filled with things she'd need – sun cream, towels, CDs, etc, and followed Marty to the basement where the building's parking lot was located. "You're having the roof down, Marty!" Taylor laughed, pressing a few buttons.

Marty swiped her hand away. "That's the fog lights, Tay. Stop pressing buttons." He hit one and the roof began to lower.

"Why? Is this really a car like James Bond has? You know, I press a button and the nest thing I know, we're flying?" Taylor asked, her eyes wide and playful.

Marty laughed, "I don't think any of 007's cars could fly."

Taylor stuck her tongue out at him before sticking her arms up to where roof should have been. "One of them could go underwater. I'm sure that one could fly to, and if not, I bet one soon will do!"

Marty shot a sideways glance at her. "How much sugar have you had today?"

Taylor just laughed at him and lay back enjoying the sun. She sat up suddenly and began to fiddle with the radio.

"Taylor! I have already told you not to play with buttons," he reprimanded, switching the radio, which was blasting out Natasha Beddingfield's Unwritten to Tupac's Old School.

"Marty," pouted Taylor. "It's sunny. We need something cheerful."

Marty rolled his eyes and reluctantly complied with Taylor's request. Twenty minutes later, after being teased by Taylor, he was singing along to the cheesy songs with her, as they pulled into a parking space. He stopped the second he noticed Danny had spotted him and was laughing.

"Your singing is Bananas," Danny laughed as he walked over, commenting on the song.

Marty turned off the ignition and got out, "You try being in a car with Taylor. You need to sing to drown her out."

"Hey, doofus! The roof is down. I can hear what you're saying," Taylor cried.

"Doofus?" Marty snorted. "What are we? Five?"

Taylor grinned and grabbed her bag, following Danny to the beach where the barbeque was already being set up by Mac and Stella, who were arguing over how much charcoal was needed. Stella was wearing a red and white checked bikini top and a pair of denim shorts, Mac in shorts, sandals and a pale blue polo shirt, and despite the bickering, were smiling at each other.

It was a shame Stella was with Frankie – those two seemed to be the perfect balance to each other, Taylor thought. Taylor waved at them and headed over to Lindsay, who was already laying in the sun, wearing a dark green halter neck bikini.

Lindsay propped herself up on her elbows as Taylor dropped her bag next to her and pulled out her towel. "What took you so long?"

Taylor pulled off her camisole and slipped her short denim shorts off, revealing a brand spanking new, white halter neck bikini – she'd had to buy a new one after losing so much weight in the past few months. "My fault. I got distracted dancing around my bedroom."

Lindsay laughed, "This sun is beautiful."

"I agree," muttered Taylor, as she lay back and began soaking in the sun like she was a deprived flower.

An hour later and music was blasting out of stereo. Flack and Danny had finished setting up a volleyball net, and were hitting a ball back and forth with Marty and Sheldon. Even Lindsay and Stella had joined in, leaving Taylor sunbathing and Mac in charge of the cooking – he'd practically ushered Stella away from the grill.

"You should suggest this more often."

"It wasn't my suggestion, Maddy," Taylor told her friend who had appeared on Lindsay's vacated towel, thankful that their chat was not going to be heard over the music.

"Well, whoever's it was deserves a medal – Sheldon has a really nice body." Taylor turned her head and raised an eyebrow at her dead friend, before glancing over at the boys. Like the others, Sheldon was wearing a pair of board shorts. "Mmmmm, I want to touch, but I'm scared of getting burnt he's so hot."

"Now why don't I think you're referring to his body temperature," Taylor muttered dryly.

"Come on, Drew," said Danny, running over. "Stop being boring and join in."

Taylor glanced at Maddy. "I can't play."

"Whaddya mean, you can't play?" Danny asked her in disbelief.

"I have the worst hand-eye coordination in the world," Taylor shrugged. "Seriously, I suck at games like this."

"Do it," said Maddy.

"Huh?" Taylor asked her.

"What?" asked Danny, slightly confused.

"I'll help," Maddy told her, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "In fact, have it girls versus boys."

"Alright," said Taylor slowly, before returning her attention fully to Danny. "Only if it's girls versus boys."

"I thought you said you couldn't play, and besides, there's one more male on that court."

"Yeah, I pity your chances," she told him, getting to her feet.

"Yay, Danny! You got her to play," smiled Stella as the two wandered over.

"Yeah, only Drew here seems to think that it should be a battle of the sexes," Danny snorted.

"We can take them," Taylor told Stella and Lindsay.

"I don't know," muttered Lindsay.

"Scared of losing, Montana?"

"It's _Lindsay_, Messer. And no, I'm scared of damaging your pride too much," she retorted

"Oh, are they fighting words, Linds?" Sheldon mocked.

The three women looked at each other, nodded and tied their hair back. "Bring it," called Taylor.

Twenty minutes in, and they were seven points down. Lindsay wasn't bad, and Stella was surprisingly good, making up for Taylor's lack of skill, but the other team _was_ one man up.

"I thought you were going to help us, Taylor muttered to Maddy, who was laughing at her as she pulled herself to her feet after diving (and missing) the ball she was trying to prevent from hitting the sand.

"I am, I am," said Maddy, "I just wanted to see you try."

Danny caught the ball and took it to serve. The boys had soon learnt that Taylor was the weak spot on the team and within minutes, Marty was slamming it over the net in her direction.

As she said, Taylor's hand-eye coordination was lacking and as she clasped her hands together to smack it back over, her fingers just scraped it. Instead of it sailing to the ground, Maddy grabbed it, threw it over the net as she ducked under it and jumped to catch it before Flack could hitting it back, instead slamming it to the sand in front of him to make it looked like he had missed it.

"Nice one, Taylor!" Stella shouted at her

"What happened there, Flack?" Hawkes complained.

"I dunno," he said shaking his head, "I just missed it."

Another twenty minutes later and the girls had shot ahead by twenty three points in a row, as Taylor's 'game' improved remarkably. Maddy was enjoying herself in helping Taylor score, trip up the other team so they missed the shots from Stella and Lindsay, and even blocking a few shots. By the end of the game, Taylor could hardly stand from laughing so much and they had won 38-12.

Lindsay dashed over to the stereo, found a track she was looking for and Eye of the Tiger came blasting out. Taylor looked at Stella and the two of them started dancing around as Lindsay came to join them.

It wasn't until near the end of the song that they noticed the losing team staring at them. One by one, the three women stopped dancing. "What?" Taylor asked suspiciously.

"How did you manage to get so good so fast?" Danny asked her.

Taylor shrugged, "Natural talent."

"You sucked earlier," said Marty, suspiciously. "It's almost like you had some help."

Flack turned to him, "Help from whom?" he scoffed. "This girl played us – little volleyball shark." He glanced at Danny who nodded.

"Hang on, I don't like that look," said Taylor as Marty started to approach her. She started to back up, but Marty broke into a jog.

"Marty!" she squealed. "What are you doing?" She dashed off to escape him. "Leave me alone!" she called over her shoulder. Big mistake. She turned back in time to see Flack slap-bang in front of her, and he grabbed her, sweeping her off her feet. "Flack! What are you doing?"

"Cooling you off," he told her, clutching her tightly as she started wriggling.

"Cooling me off? I'm cool… why are you heading towards the sea?" She tried to jump out of his arms, but Flack shifted her and threw her over his shoulder. "Flack! That's the Atlantic, Flack." He ignored her and carried on walking towards the surf. "Flack!" Taylor looked up at the others who were laughing at her, "Help me!"

"You're on your own, Drew!" Danny shouted back.

"FLACK! PUT ME DOWN!" Taylor screamed as he stepped into the water.

"Alright," he told her.

"That's not what I mea-" she was cut off by the icy cold water as Flack threw her into it. She came up coughing and spluttering – her once straight hair now curly and in her face, and got to her feet. "You are going to pay for that," she told him.

Flack stopped laughing long enough to see Taylor flying towards him as she tackled him to into the water. Taylor was laughing at him as he came up for air. He looked at her, and dunked her. Underwater, Taylor pulled his feet from underneath him, and as he fell, she got to her feet, trying to escape. As she got out of the water, Danny went running past, with a screaming Lindsay in his arms, followed closely by Stella who was being carried by Marty.

Both of them resurfaced, only to look at each other, and tackle each other's "attacker". Sheldon approached them to watch them, laughing. Taylor bit back a smile as she noticed Maddy approaching. "You might want to watch yourself, Sheldon," she tried to warn him, but it was too late – Maddy had pushed him in. He came up spluttering and shot a dark look at Taylor.

Taylor held her hands up, "It wasn't me," she tried to explain, but she was laughing so hard that it just made her look guilty.

"You might want to take your own advice," Hawkes advised her.

Taylor turned around in time to see Flack grab her and throw her in the water again. She glared at him as she resurfaced, and joined in the water fight with the others.


	45. Rain Dancing

_18/06/2006_

**Chapter 44: Rain Dancing**

The seven of them had finally been coaxed out of the water by the tempting smells originating from the open grill, and were hovering around, bugging Mac. "Is it ready yet?" Danny asked, for what had to be the eighth time in as many minutes.

"Daniel Messer, I bet you drove your mother mad, didn't you," laughed Stella. She turned to the barbeque and started poking one of the fat sausages on it.

"Stella, you are just as bad as Danny," moaned Mac, smacking her hand away. "It will be ready when it's ready."

Taylor laughed at the two – they were like an old married couple sometimes – and danced over to the stereo.

"Whatcha putting on now?" Marty asked. "Something equally as dreadful as the last half hour?"

"Yup," she replied, hitting play. The opening chords to Kenny Loggins' Footloose came blasting out. Taylor watched as Lindsay's eyes widened in delight, meeting hers through the smoke. Within seconds, she was at Taylor's side and the two of them were dancing to the song. Stella looked up, and watched the two for a few seconds before bounding over to join in.

"How does this go?" asked Sheldon, standing next to Lindsay. It wasn't long before he got the idea and was dancing away with them.

"You know," said Danny to Flack and Marty. "One day, we're going to get roped into this."

"Cheesy music growing on you, Messer?" Marty asked.

"You were the one singing along to it earlier," quipped Danny. He turned to Flack who was stood watching the girls dancing. "Hey, Donny-boy, what's up?"

"I think if we found a foam party, I'll dance to the cheese."

Marty and Danny looked at each other and laughed, "I'll agree with you on that one."

"Food's ready!" Mac shouted.

. . .

"You are definitely cooking again, Mac," muttered Taylor. They had all finished eating a while ago and had dropped onto the towels to sunbathe, none of them feeling the urge to do anything more.

"I second that," said Flack.

"You should taste his pot roast," muttered Stella.

All of a sudden, Marty leapt to his feet, swearing loudly.

"What's the matter?" Danny asked.

"Work. I couldn't get the night off, and now I'm going to be late." He took off running for his car, shouting a hurried goodbye over his shoulder.

"He's going to have a cramp," said Taylor as she arched her back and rolled onto her stomach.

"You should put some sun cream on," Stella told her.

"You wanna help me out on that?" Taylor asked, lazily.

"Sure," she agreed, reaching for the sun cream. She barely had her hands on it when an obnoxious beeping noise began to emit from somewhere. Mac shifted and pulled out his pager from his pocket. "Looks like that's my afternoon over," he told them, getting to his feet. "I'm on call, and they have a 419 in Central Park."

"Five… four… three… two…" where one should have been, there was another obnoxious beep. "Guess that's my cue, too," Stella muttered, flinging the sun cream at Flack. "It's been great, guys, and I'll see you all on Monday." The two senior CSIs disappeared leaving the other five on the beach.

"Are you going to stare at that tube, or do you want me to do it?" Danny asked, prodding his friend.

"Huh, oh, yeah," said Flack, squeezing the cream out and rubbing it into Taylor's back. Once finished, he wiped the cream off on his sides and lay back down.

"Is it wrong that I don't want to move from this spot," Lindsay asked sleepily.

"You like New York, Montana?"

Lindsay, who was lying next to him, smacked Danny on his stomach. "It's Lindsay, Messer," she growled.

On the other side of him, Taylor burst out laughing. "For a criminalist, you have a dreadful memory, Danny."

"Shut up," Drew. She likes it," he told her, giving her a prod.

"Hey, guys," interrupted Flack. "Hawkes is asleep."

Taylor watched as Danny shot upright, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What are you scheming, Messer," Lindsay asked him.

Danny just wiggled his eyebrows at her and headed for the cooler, pulling out a handful of ice.

"Danny, he is going to kill you," Taylor warned him, trying to hide her own smile.

Danny just grinned at her and nodded at Flack, who very slowly, raised the elastic to his shorts. Danny crept over and in a quick movement, threw the ice in his shorts.

Hawkes was on his feet in a flash, shouting out in surprise. Danny felt to the floor in laugher. Once the ice was gone, Sheldon looked from Danny to Flack, who was also laughing hard, without saying or doing anything – just a smug luck on his face.

Danny slowly stopped laughing. "What?" he asked the ex-ME suspiciously.

Sheldon smiled. "Don't worry. I'm going to have my revenge on you two."

"I'll be waiting," Danny told him, settling back down next to Lindsay.

Lindsay propped herself up and looked over at Taylor. "The lab is going to be like a preschool, isn't it?"

Taylor nodded, "I'm suddenly grateful that I don't have to work there."

. . .

An hour later, and everyone was asleep, not waking until the heavens opened up on them with a flash of lightning, and a crash of thunder. Taylor, who had been having a very interesting dream about oranges, elephants, and Danny and Flack in a horse costume, leapt to her feet with a scream. Around her, the others were whipping their towels from under them and using them as makeshift umbrellas.

Taylor stood there, watching them dash for the cover of the car, grabbing the stereo on the way. Instead of joining them, she tipped her head back and allowed the heavy raindrops to fall on her face.

"Drew? What are you doing?" Danny shouted at her. Taylor looked at him, grinned, and stuck her arms out to spin around in the rain. Within minutes, she was completely drenched. Finally, she picked her towel and other belongings up and skipped over to the car. "You are actually crazy, aren't you?" asked Danny, staring at the dripping woman.

"Aw, come on, Danny," she said, grinning. "When was the last time you danced in the rain?"

"When I was four," he retorted, dryly.

"Well thirty years is a long time to go before doing it again."

Danny's mouth dropped open, "Taylor, I am not thirty four years old!"

"Well you may as well be. Don't be a bore!" She turned to the others, "Seriously, how many opportunities do you get to do this?"

"Taylor, no one is getting out of this car… Montana!" Lindsay had jumped out of the car and joined Taylor and the two of them were spinning around and laughing in the rain.

"I'm beginning to think crazy was an understatement," Danny muttered.

"Well Lindsay is just as bad, then," Hawkes commented, smiling at the two women's behaviour.

"Give it a month and Montana will be seeing ghosts, too."

"Messer, there are no such things as ghosts," Flack groaned.

Danny, who was sat in the driver's seat of his SUV turned around to look at Flack, who was sat behind Hawkes. "You're just looking for an excuse not to ask her out."

"Says the guy crushing on Monroe," Flack scoffed.

"So you do like her?" Danny said, leaping on the lack of denial.

"You don't seem to be in any hurry to deny it yourself, Messer," Flack retorted, pointing accusingly at his friend.

"You guys are pathetic. Really, at this rate, New Orleans will have rebuilt its levees before you two make a move," Hawkes muttered.

"You are so right," agreed Maddy, who had been sat in the car with them – unnoticed until then, and continued to be unnoticed. Well, nearly.

Flack couldn't stop a shiver running down his spine. "Turn up the heat, Messer. It's cold back here – you're killing me with that ac."

"Flack, the ac isn't on."

. . .

"When you two end up with a cold tomorrow, don't come looking for me for sympathy, because you won't get none," Danny said, eyeing Lindsay and Taylor in his rear view mirror.

"Won't get any, Danny," Taylor corrected. "You're implying we _will_ get sympathy when you say we won't get none."

Lindsay gazed out of the window. "Darn rain. I was enjoying myself."

"Why don't you all come back to mine, and we can watch a movie again," Taylor offered.

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Sheldon.

Lindsay nodded. "We can pick up some takeaway on the way back."

"Jeeze, Montana!" Danny exclaimed. "Are you hungry already? We've only just had Mac's feast."

"It's Lind-"

"Messer, are we going to sit around in the parking lot all day, or are you going to drive?" Flack asked impatiently.

It took a lot longer to get to Taylor's apartment than it did to get to the beach, what with the heavy traffic, torrential downpour, Sheldon and Danny arguing over what radio station they wanted, and of course, waiting for Lindsay to come out with a few pizzas. It was her suggestion, thus she had to order and collect. Finally, they were all settled in the living room tucking into pizza (Danny a good slice ahead, despite his earlier comments) and trying to decide what watch.

In the end, it was Danny, who after being shouted at by Taylor to wipe his hands first, picked a DVD for them, before sitting back down on the couch with Lindsay and Flack. They had almost gotten to the end of the film when the TV turned itself off.

"Not funny, Maddy," Taylor muttered as she crouched down in front of the television to turn it on, assuming her friend was still there. Outside there was a loud crash of thunder, and the lights flickered before the apartment plunged into darkness. "Great." Taylor's voice was loud because of the silence. "Just sit there, guys. I'm going to go check the fuses." She headed into the kitchen, stumbling over Danny's legs and the empty pizza boxes on the way. Using the dim light from her cell phone she rooted in the cupboard looking for a torch.

"What are you doing down there, Drew?" came Flack's voice as she wrapped her fingers around what she was looking for.

Taylor jumped, smacking her head on the top of the cupboard. "This," she told him, shining the light in his face whilst she rubbed her head. She moved the light to the closet. Before she could open it, arguing voices carried in from the living room.

"Come on, Linds! All I said was that I wouldn't mind a new identity, sometimes."

"Have you ever thought what it must be like to have a new identity, Danny? Those people give up everything," Lindsay was arguing back.

Taylor looked at Flack, who shrugged. "Those two can argue over anything, sometimes," he offered.

As Taylor opened her mouth to respond, Lindsay stormed through, "I'm sorry, Taylor, I should go."

"Don't let Danny bother you," Taylor told her.

"It's not that," she sighed, "I just really should go. I'll call you later."

She made to leave, but Danny appeared and stopped her, "I'm sorry, Lindsay."

Taylor was surprised – he must have really meant it as well, considering she didn't think she ever heard him call her Lindsay before.

Lindsay sighed, "Look, it's fine. Don't worry about it Danny, it was stupid. But I really should be going."

"Then I'm giving you a ride. I'm not letting you walk back by yourself, Montana." Lindsay nodded and the two left.

"Are we going to be standing in the dark all night?" Flack asked impatiently, when Danny stuck his head back around the door.

"The whole building is in darkness, Taylor, so don't even waste your time with the fuse box," he told her, before leaving again.

"In answer to your question, it looks like it," she sighed, sticking her head back in the cupboard and emerging seconds later holding a box of matches. In the living room, also trying to see his way around, was Sheldon, trying to tidy up for her. "Don't bother, Sheldon," she told him, lighting the candles which were dotted around the living room. As the room was lit with a soft glow of the candles, she turned back to the others, "I'll tidy this up in real light."

Another bolt of lightning lit up the room, illuminating the rain which was lashing against the window. "You guys may as well stay here," she offered. "You can't want to step outside in that."

"Actually, I have no choice," said Sheldon unhappily. "I have to be at work in a few hours."

Taylor turned to Flack. He stared at her for a while then turned to Hawkes, "I'll walk back with you." Taylor let them out, and then got ready for bed.


	46. Evil Can Hurt, Whether Dead Or Alive

_19/06/2006_

**Chapter 45: Evil Can Hurt, Whether Dead Or Alive**

Taylor walked wearily down the steps to the court house. She had just spent the day inside watching Leveau's preliminary trial. Now she just wanted to go home and soak in a hot bubble bath. She wasn't exactly sure why, but being around him made her feel filthy.

She slipped her headphones to her phone in and switched on the mp3 player, allowing Rascal Flatts to belt out into her ears as she stepped onto the busy subway car as she tried to drown out the man next to her that was complaining about how many people should be allowed in the cars. She shut her eyes and held tightly to the hand rail, waiting for her stop. Six stops later and she was grateful to be off. Perhaps it was time she bought a car.

She began to climb up the steps when she noticed a man stood in front of her – six bullet holes in his chest. "Help me," he pleaded with her.

The bath was going to have to wait. She nodded at him, and was about to take another step when another ghost appeared, again, its body riddled with bullets – only it wasn't Maddy. "Stay out of our business!" it shouted at her, before pushing her down the stairs.

Taylor went flying backwards, landing heavily on the marble floor. Thankfully she had only managed to take a few steps up, but her ankle was in agony and she had certainly smacked her head hard enough – the room was spinning. The last thing she was aware of before she blacked out was Maddy's concerned face hovering above her, and thinking that she was there for her.

She awoke some time later, aware of voices she recognised, muttering in the background. Gingerly, she opened her eyes, immediately regretting it as the bright light was doing nothing for her headache. Her groans attracted the voices over to her.

"Taylor, are you alright?"

"What happened?" she groaned, looking up at Mac and Lindsay – the owners of the voices.

"We were hoping you could answer that," said Lindsay.

"My head hurts," she muttered.

"You have a concussion. The doctors are going to keep you in overnight," Mac explained.

Taylor nodded, then winced, instantly regretting moving her head. "Why are you here?"

"I had a phone call," said Lindsay. "It was your cell phone and I thought it was you, but it was a man telling me he had dialled the last number you had because he had your phone. I thought you'd lost it, but he then told me that you had been pushed down some stairs and were currently en route to the hospital."

Taylor frowned. "The last thing I remember was… Maddy!"

"Taylor, you hit your head quite hard," said Lindsay, gently. Taylor sighed – there was no point in explaining that one.

"Do you remember who pushed you?" Mac asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she paused but decided to continue anyway. "There was a body – a ghost – he had at least six bullet wounds to him, and he asked me for my help. I was about to go to the Crime Lab to find you when another ghost appeared. He'd been shot too, but I don't know how many times, because he pushed me down the stairs."

"We can't prosecute something which doesn't exist," sighed Lindsay.

"Look, thank you for the concern, but how about we clock it up to an accident, and leave it at that. I'll be back in as soon as the first ghost appears with some clues," she shrugged, then winced at the effort.

"No, Taylor you are staying here, like the doctor ordered," Mac told her sternly.

Taylor nodded, although she had every intention of leaving if the ghost turned up – Stella would be the one to see. Not only did she believe her about ghosts… well, she was accepting about the ghosts, but she could also have the power to manipulate Mac. That was another thing which made Taylor wonder why those two weren't together. Perhaps they'd tried it once already. Although, Mac had been married. And they thought _she_ was crazy.

The two CSIs left a short time later after a call came through for them leaving Taylor and her sore head.

"About time they left," said Maddy, appearing at the side of her bed. "Are you alright?"

"What was that about, Maddy?" Taylor asked her. "That guy was dead – why was he attacking me?"

Maddy shrugged, "I don't know who he is, but I do know that I'm not responsible for him and as I'm responsible for all spirits which visit you, that means he wasn't a good person."

"And what? That means they can touch me?" Taylor demanded, alarmed.

Maddy shrugged. "Evil can hurt, whether dead or alive."

"Do have any idea how clichéd you sound?" Taylor muttered.

"Hey, you asked, I answered," Maddy sighed. "Look, I have to go. I have a spirit to look after."

She was gone before Taylor could ask her if her spirit had a name. But she wasn't alone for long. It was the second ghost again. "What do you want?" Taylor asked him, trying to press herself into her pillows.

"Stay out of our business!" he roared at her, before grabbing her arm and flinging her against the wall. The bed went flying after her. Taylor screamed as the bed landed on her arm, but she got to her feet, ignoring the ankle which was screaming in pain at her, and ran.

Whilst she had been lucky that she had been placed in a private room on a quiet corridor, currently, with no-one around, other than patients, she was scared. Not that a nurse or doctor could help her with a poltergeist, but she wouldn't feel alone. She dashed into the first closet-looking room she could find. She didn't want to end up in a ward where the ghost could have done some damage to a patient.

The closet contained sheets and scrubs. Taylor gabbed a set of blue surgical scrubs and put them on, biting her tongue so as not to scream from the pain in her arm. She was sure it was broken but she didn't want to alert the ghost to where she was.

She didn't need to make a sound though. Taylor had just managed to pull on a shoe when he appeared again. This time, as Taylor backed into a corner, he put his hand around her throat and pinned her against the wall.

"Leave her alone!" Maddy yelled, appearing out of nowhere with the other ghost.

The ghost, which was still strangling Taylor, turned to look at Maddy. With a scream of "Stay out of our business," he lunged at the other two ghosts and the three of them disappeared.

Taylor fell to the floor coughing, trying to wipe away the tears that were streaking down her face. One thing was for certain – she couldn't stay at the hospital. She was too scared that the ghost would hurt someone else.

She hurried back to her room and stopped only long enough to grab her purse. No one had been to the room: the bed stay lay against the far wall. She left the hospital and flagged down the first cab she could get before making it take her to the Crime Lab. At this point, it was the only place where she would be able to feel safe, and it also had three licensed doctors.

. . .

"Normally surgeons don't accompany the bodies to the morgue," said Marty as he attacked a victim with an enormous pair of pliers.

"No, Marty. It's me," Taylor told him, struggling to keep her voice calm and level.

Marty took one look at her and swore. "What the hell happened? Who did this to you? And why are you in scrubs?" Before giving her the chance to answer the questions he had fired at her, he dropped the pliers and started to lead her to the back room where the bed was. Except Taylor's cry of pain stopped him. Without even asking, he pulled the sleeve of her arm up and looked at her arm, swearing again. This time, he led her to the x-ray machine and sat her down on a table. "Just stay there a minute."

He returned a while later dressed in protective gear, and loaded the machine with fresh slides. Taylor had been right – she had broken her arm, as the slides were clearly showing.

"You're lucky we have the bandages and plaster so we can cast it," Marty muttered as he began looking through the cupboards for the supplies he needed. He mixed the plaster and walked back to Taylor. After a few minutes of setting the cast in silence, he put the bandages down and stared at her. "Alright, what happened?"

"I was on my way back from court, for the Leveau case. The preliminary case was today," Taylor frowned. "I was walking up the steps from the subway to the street and a ghost appeared asking for help. But he disappeared and was replaced by another ghost. Only this one warned me to keep away and pushed me down the steps."

"Taylor, when someone falls, the break tends to be spiral, from where they put their hand out to protect themselves. Yours is a clean break and there's too much bruising around it."

"I woke up in the hospital and-"

"You mean that no-one contacted me?" said Marty, sharply, cutting her off.

Taylor frowned, "Lindsay and Mac were there. I assumed that they told you what happened."

Marty shook his head, "No."

"Well, I'm sure they would have tried, Marty."

Marty wiped his hands on his scrubs and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He sighed as he flicked it open. "They did call, but it was on silent." He shut the phone and put it back in his pocket. "But that doesn't explain how you broke your arm. If you're trying to hide something to protect someone-"

"Marty, who could I possibly be protecting. And you didn't let me finish explaining," she told him as he returned his attention to bandaging her up. "I was lying in bed, minding my own business, when the second ghost turned up. He attacked me again, throwing me out of the bed, then threw the bed at me. That's what broke my arm, as it landed on my arm."

Marty frowned. "Since when did the ghosts start getting violent with you?"

Taylor shrugged. "I don't know, but he might not even be dead. Leveau suffered from schizophrenia and one of his other personalities attacked me." She rubbed at her neck, revealing the bruises that were beginning to from there.

"What the hell are they, Taylor?" Marty exclaimed, as he spotted them.

"What?" she asked him, unsure as to what he was referring to.

"The hand prints around your neck!" he exclaimed, moving over to examine them.

"Oh," she frowned. "After the bed landed on me, and nobody came, I ran and hid in a closet, which is where I found the scrubs. But the ghost found me and choked me. I'm not sure, but I think that if Maddy hadn't have-"

"Maddy?" Marty repeated, suddenly staring intently at her. "Taylor, Maddy is dead. You can't have seen her," he pulled out a pen-sized torch and shone it into her eyes. "Did you hit your head when you fell? Because I think you might have concussion."

"The doctors said I do have concussion, but I'm not seeing Maddy because I hit my head. I saw her before that," Taylor told him.

"Taylor," he started softly.

"Don't talk to me in that tone of voice, Marty," Taylor interrupted. "You have been the one person who has always believed me. So don't start failing me now. She appeared the night of her funeral, and randomly since. She's like a guardian angel for ghosts. She's there with them as they wait for me to help them. In fact, I thought you could see ghosts, so how come you've never seen her? She was there last weekend at the beach – how do you think I suddenly got so good at volleyball?"

Marty said nothing as he finished bandaging her arm. "Don't move while that sets," he told her quietly as he walked to the sink to clean up.

Taylor watched him, wondering if he'd actually heard her, and then he sat back down with her. "I'm not making it up, Marty, I promise you that."

Marty sighed. "I've thought about the ghost thing before, Taylor – how I can't see the ghosts you can. I think they only appear to certain people who they think, or know, can help them."

"So you're saying that's why you can't see Maddy?"

Marty shook his head. "No, I'm saying that's why I can't see the same ghosts as you."

Taylor stared at him. "You don't believe me about Maddy, do you?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "Sometimes, when people lose someone they're close to, they think they see the person who left them. It's a coping mechanism."

Taylor pursed her lips. She stared back at him, and then got to her feet. "Thank you for sorting my arm out, but I should be going."

"Come on, Taylor, you can't disappear. Where are you going to go?" Marty called after her.

"I'm going to go and help the ghost, Martin," she told him curtly as she headed for the door.

Marty winced. "You've never called me Martin before."

"And you've never not believed me before," she retorted before leaving the room, despite his protests.


	47. The Brooklyn Bullets

_20/06/2006_

**Chapter 46: The Brooklyn Bullets**

She wasn't crying, and she certainly wasn't going to admit it, but Taylor was upset. And it wasn't because she had been attacked by a ghost. To add to that, not only did Marty – the one person who had never questioned what she saw – not believe her, she was struggling to change out of the scrubs and into the spare clothes she had in her locker.

She was cursing like a sailor, under her breath, when Danny came in. He stood in the doorway, unnoticed, watching her struggle to button up her combats, unsure as to why her arm was in a cast.

"What on earth did you do to yourself?" he asked her.

Taylor jumped, "I didn't do this," she told him as she turned to face him.

"Who did?" he asked, spotting the bruises and hurrying over.

Taylor sighed. "A ghost did. Well, it could have been the subconscious form of someone suffering from a mental disorder, but either way, it wasn't a corporeal form."

"You're in luck," Danny told her. "I have just handed in my report to Mac, and I don't have anything else to work on at the moment, so I'm all yours." He cocked his head at her, "Do you need a hand there?"

"No," Taylor snapped, "I can manage fine." She struggled a little longer and groaned in frustration as she slammed her head against her locker. "Yes," she mumbled into the metal. "A hand would be good, thank you." She turned around so Danny could reach the buttons.

Danny bit back a chuckle as he crouched down and fastened her trousers up. "Normally, I'm undoing women's trousers, not fastening them up."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "You don't surprise me. I'm just sorry I'm not the person you want me to be," she told him as he got to his feet.

Danny frowned. "What are you talking about?" he asked her, as he studied her face.

Taylor gave him a look of disbelief. "Well, you have either developed a fascination with the mid-west, or you have a thing for Lindsay."

"I do n… is it that obvious?" he sighed, leaning back against the locker.

Taylor laughed. "To everyone but Lindsay, yeah."

"Look, I like her – I'm not going to bother denying that one. But I'm not going to do anything about it."

"Why not?" Taylor asked. "Doesn't the department agree with dating internally?"

"No, not at all," said Danny, shaking his head. "But she can do better than me."

Taylor shut her locker. "Isn't that for her to decide?"

Danny shrugged. "Don't say anything to her," he told her hurriedly.

Taylor pulled a face. "Danny, I graduated high school years ago."

"I mean it Taylor," he insisted.

"Fine," she agreed, throwing her hands in the air. "Whatever. I won't say anything."

"Alright, so what can you tell me about the ghost? The one who wanted your help, I mean," Danny added.

"He was shot," Taylor frowned. "I counted six bullet holes, but there could easily have been more."

"Anything else?" Danny pressed.

Taylor shook her head. "Not really."

Danny nodded at her. "Alright, I'll go down to the morgue and see if they've had any bodies brought in. Let me know if you hear anything else."

Taylor nodded and watched him walk away. She was going to give him half an hour before he came back up and told her that she needed to go to bed, after Marty told him she was seeing Maddy.

"Hey," said Maddy softly, as she appeared in the locker room accompanied by the first ghost, "Are you alright?"

Taylor held up her arm to show Maddy the cast. "Nothing a few weeks won't heal," she sighed. "But Marty thinks I'm crazy."

"Crazy?" Maddy repeated.

"Yeah, apparently you're dead," Taylor pointed out, casually.

Maddy frowned, "Well, duh."

"And, the only reason I'm seeing you is because it's some coping mechanism," Taylor added, pulling a face.

Maddy frowned. "You told him you could see me?"

"Not intentionally, but he knows now. Can't you just appear and see him?"

"No," said Maddy shortly, "I'm not allowed."

"You're not allowed?" Taylor repeated.

"Nope. It's against the rules."

Taylor pulled a face, "Since when did you ever follow rules?"

"Don't pull that one on me, Tay. It's not going to work this time. If I had my choice, I'd certainly be making myself visible to a certain criminalist. However, I didn't come here to talk about him, or me. Casper here has something for you."

Taylor rolled her eyes at the sound of Casper, but turned her attention to the ghost. He had pulled up his blood stained wife beater and was showing her a tattoo of a gun sat on a pile of bullets, a date etched where the trigger should have been.

Taylor sighed as she tried to create a mental image as the two ghosts disappeared. She grabbed her purse and headed to her familiar haunt – the computer lab.

. . .

"Watch it!" Flack cried as he ducked to narrowly miss the pencil which had been launched in his direction.

Taylor looked up from the paper she had been trying to draw the tattoo on. _Trying_ being the key word. She had broken her right arm and the cast was partially around her hand. The problem being she was right handed and had been struggling to hold the pencil. Her frustration at not being able to draw had resulted in the pencil being flung across the room.

"What is it with you and throwing things at me?" Flack asked, crossing his arms.

Taylor narrowed her eyes. "You deserve it most of the time," she told him. "Just be grateful it wasn't a shoe." She reached down to pick up the paper and screw it up.

"Who the hell have you been pissing off this time?" Flack asked her as he spotted the cast.

"Why is it you automatically assume that I've pissed someone off?" Taylor snapped back, irritatably. " Did it ever occur to you that I may have fallen?"

Flack gave her a look, "Did you fall?"

"No, I was pushed, but that's not the point," Taylor informed him with a scowl.

Flack smirked, "No, that is the point. Who'd you piss off?" he repeated.

Taylor glared at him, "Oh, I'm fine, thanks for asking. It doesn't hurt in the slightest."

Flack's expression softened, "I'm sorry. What happened? And why are you here – shouldn't you be in a hospital?"

Taylor sighed. "I was in a hospital. That was where I broke my arm."

"I thought you said you had fallen?"

"I said I was pushed," Taylor corrected him, shaking her head. "That was how I ended up in the hospital."

Flack walked over to her and rested a hand on her shoulder, "What happened?" He repeated.

Taylor shut her eyes and sighed, "A ghost threw a bed on my arm."

Flack dropped his hand, "I was being sincere, Taylor. There's no need for this ghost bull."

"You know what, Flack," roared Taylor, pushing him away. "Next time, don't bother asking!"

"You know what, maybe I won't," he shouted back before storming out of the room.

Taylor let out a frustrated cry and picked the piece of screwed up paper and launched it at the retreating back of the detective. It fell a few feet short of the door, but it did make her feel slightly better. That was until she noticed the pencil sat on the floor just by it. She groaned, picked it up and returned to her drawing.

She had just about finished a half-way decent attempt by the time Danny had returned.

"You saw Mad-" he trailed of when he spotted the drawing. "What is this?" he demanded, picking the picture up.

Taylor's eyes widened at the harshness in his voice, "It's a tattoo."

"I know that," Danny snapped, "The question is, what are you doing with it?"

"Danny, it was what my ghost showed me," she practically stuttered at him, a little shocked at his anger.

Danny lowered the paper, "Taylor, I want you to stay away from this."

Taylor frowned, "I can't," she told him, shaking her head. "It's my… job."

"No, Taylor, it's not. It's my job, and it's the job for people who are trained to deal with this."

Taylor stared at him, a little taken aback. "With what, Danny? What on earth has got you so spooked?"

Danny looked from the paper to Taylor's concerned face. "It's a gang thing, Taylor. It's the tattoo all members of the Brooklyn Bullets have."

"The Brooklyn Bullets?" Taylor repeated with a smile. "That sounds more like a football team."

Danny glared at her, "Does it look like I'm joking around here, Taylor? The date on the trigger is the in-date. The pile of bullets – there's on bullet for every kill that a member has made." He slammed the paper on the table. "I don't want you to become one of those bullets, Taylor. Just stay away from this."

He left the room in hurry, leaving Taylor gaping after him, "I can't stay away from something which won't stay away from me," she muttered, glancing down at her broken arm. She sighed and headed over to the computer – maybe she could find out some more information about these Brooklyn Bullets.

. . .

It had gotten past the point where the previous day had turned into a new one and Taylor was still sat at the computer, a note pad chock-full of badly written notes on the subject at her side. It turned out that it was worth the researching and the constant throbbing pain from her arm was numbed as she focused her attention on the screen.

The Brooklyn Bullets were a gang of predominately white male members who were tied to the heroin supplies in the Brooklyn area. Whilst several lower ranking members had been arrested for drug related charges, none of the gang had ever been charged with murder, and any cases which had come close to trial had been dropped because of lack of evidence: many witnesses had either withdrawn from prosecuting, mysteriously disappeared, or had died under suspicious circumstances.

They were rivals to Døds Forbannelse – a Norwegian gang in the area – and were currently at a stalemate with them, and they also had ties to a Staten Island gang known as the Tanglewood Boys.

Taylor flicked through her notes. Despite having lived in New York for several years, and writing a crime column, she had never come into contact with any of the gangs in the city, and she was finding the notion of writing a special on the subject quite intriguing. She knew that cities like LA were notorious for having gang problems, but the New York gangs had managed to keep themselves from the papers.

She sat back and looked at the map of the five boroughs of New York which hung above the computer. Each of the boroughs, she's discovered, had gangs. Some had several. Behind her, someone cleared their throat.

Taylor turned around and found Maddy and the ghost watching her. "He has something else for you," Maddy told her.

Taylor nodded and the male ghost walked over to point at a location on the map, his body going through her to do so. Taylor shivered as a chill set in. She stared at the location on the map. It was a poor housing area in between Coney Island and Brighton Beach.

"Thank you," she muttered as the two ghosts disappeared. Taylor sighed. Danny was just going to have to accept the fact that she was stuck on this case. She could understand his reluctance to her working this, but his anger was another thing. It wasn't like she went looking for trouble – it just had a way of finding her. Speaking of, it was time she found Danny.


	48. Angry Conversations

_20/06/2006_

**Chapter 47: Angry Conversations**

She found Danny at the gym on the 47th floor, thanks to a tip off from Sheldon, who of course, had questioned her about her arm. She had filled him in, (leaving out the details about a certain dead blonde, of course), and then headed to the gym. Danny was wearing a pair of sweatpants and his wife beater and was doing his best to beat the sand out of one of the punch bags. "I hope that's not my face you're imagining there," she told him softly.

Danny paused and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. "Not currently, no."

Taylor bit her lip and looked away. "Look, Danny, the ghost reappeared. He gave me a location."

Danny punched the bag a couple more times before finally stopping. "What did you get?" Taylor hesitated before reeling off the address to him. "You're staying here, Taylor," he told her.

"You're not going alone," she protested.

"Damn straight I'm not," he told her. "I'm getting a uniform. But that still doesn't mean you're coming."

"Danny-"

"Don't even think about arguing with me, Taylor. I'm not putting up with any bull over it," he told her firmly.

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "Well give me a better reason then it's dangerous, Danny. Some ghost is attacking me and I'm not even anywhere near the crime scene. We haven't even located the body yet."

"Don't you think that's a good enough reason?" Danny exploded. "We haven't found the body and you were nearly killed by a ghost! The Brooklyn Bullet's are dangerous!"

Taylor took a step back. She had never been on the receiving end of Danny's anger before and frankly, it scared her. "Fine," she whispered. "I'll see you later," she told him, before turning to leave.

Now it was Danny's turn to watch the retreating back. He sighed loudly. He'd never seen that look in Taylor's eyes before, and it upset him to know that he was the reason behind it. He gave the punch bag one last vicious swing before grabbing his cell phone and putting in a request to dispatch for a uniform.

He sighed again and hit Lindsay's number. Perhaps she would go talk to Taylor for him. Before the call connected, he hung up. Lindsay didn't know about his past – that wasn't such a great idea. Instead he called the one person who did… or at least knew something about it.

. . .

Taylor was sat at a bar nursing a glass of wine. The barman had left her with a bottle and this was the last glass from it. It wasn't even making her feel any better. She growled into the glass as she finished off the red liquid. Normally, she didn't turn to alcohol when she was angry or upset. True, she enjoyed a glass occasionally in the evening, but for the most part, the hard liquor was reserved for an evening out.

In this instance, she simply didn't care, and ordered a shot of Everclear. As the clear liquid burnt at her throat, she knew it was going to take more than one shot, and ordered another.

She was nursing the second glass when someone sat next to her. She didn't even have to turn her head to recognise his scent. Taylor poured the shot down her throat and allowed her head to bang against the bar. "What do you want?" she muttered into the polished wood.

"You to not order another drink, for starters," Flack told her, pushing the empty shot glass away.

"What do you care?" she asked him bitterly.

"Danny called me," he told her, instead of answering the question. Taylor raised her head and tried to attract the attention of the barman. "How about we leave the alcohol, now?"

Taylor turned to glare at her dark-haired companion. "If I want to destroy my liver, that's my choice."

Flack nodded. "True. I suppose that then you'll finally stop throwing things at me."

"No, even if my liver dies on me," Taylor scowled at him. "I'll still haunt your ass. At least then you'll believe in ghosts."

Flack sighed, "Taylor, I don't believe in ghosts."

Taylor looked directly at him, "Neither did I, but they believe in me." She got to her feet, giving up on another drink and walked out of the bar.

"Taylor!" Flack called as he hurried to catch up to her. "Wait up."

Taylor whirled around. "What do you want now, Flack? To have another go at me? Fine go ahead. Let's just put an end to this miserable day so that I can go check into a hotel."

"I'm not going to have a… a hotel? Why? What's wrong with your place? Was it Marty who-"

"Don't even finish that question, Flack," Taylor flared. "I'm mad at Marty, yes, but not for anything that is currently working its way around your mind." She turned around and began walking off again.

"Taylor!" Flack hurried to keep up with her. "I'm sorry, okay. After Maddy, I worry about you."

"Whatever, Flack," Taylor muttered, sticking her hands in her pockets as she continued marching down the street.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Flack demanded, his long legs allowing him to catch up to her easily.

Taylor shrugged. "You haven't worried about me before, so why start now?"

"That's not true," he told her quietly.

Taylor stopped suddenly, causing Flack to walk into her,. "Then what is it? You don't believe me about the ghosts, and you clearly think I'm crazy. So why don't you just quit with the games and admit you're worried that I'm going to do something that compromises your job and everybody else's. Do you think I want this? I didn't ask for it, Flack, and it's not like it's some gift that I can return to a store. Do you think I could make up something like this?" She thrust her cast into his face. "Oh, no wait. You clearly do, because you seem to be under some delusional theory that Marty could do it!"

"Now hang on a moment," Flack cried. "I never once thought that Marty had hurt you. It's you who's jumping to conclusions here. I was concerned you two had had some lover's tiff – as in an argument, which is why you didn't want to go home."

"A lover's tiff?" Taylor scoffed in disbelief. "There is nothing going on between me and him. We just live together! And even if there was, I certainly wouldn't be sharing that information with you."

Flack bit his lip, suddenly aware that it was pushing 2am and they were stood in the middle of the street arguing very loudly. He took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry."

Taylor opened her mouth ready to respond, but not expecting an apology, her mouth just hung open.

"Don't waste your money on a hotel. It doesn't matter what the reasons were for you wanting to go there – you can stay at mine."

Taylor just continued to stare at him.

"You know my bed is pretty comfortable, and besides," he added, trying to lighten the mood. "You'd have to check out early in the morning at a hotel, and I don't have a check out time at my place."

Maybe it was the bottle of wine she had consumed, but Taylor's tongue was not all that willing to respond. Instead, she allowed the detective to lead her to his car and drive her to his, now familiar apartment.

"It's not the most glamorous of shirts," Flack informed her as he handed an old blue shirt. "But it's actually deceptively comfortable, and it's about the only clean one I have."

Taylor took it off him and stared at it, running her fingers over the fabric.

"What's the matter?" Flack asked her.

"Thank you," she said quietly, before heading into the bathroom.

When she re-emerged Flack was busy spreading out some sheets on the couch. Taylor walked over, wearing only her underwear and the shirt, which she was clutching together, "um…"

Flack looked up. "You can have my bed. I'll take the couch."

Taylor turned red and stared at the floor. "Actually, I... um… I can't fasten the buttons." She looked up and found Flack staring at her, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to suppress a smile. Taylor sighed. "Never mind," she told him.

Flack was at her side in an instant. "Don't be silly," he told her, removing her hand so that he could get to the buttons.

"I'm sorry," Taylor suddenly blurted out. Flack stopped what he was doing and looked at her. "I was angry at Marty and I took it out on you." She sighed and allowed Flack to lead her to the couch and sit her down next to him. "He… he let me down on something," she tried to explain without mentioning too many details. She didn't need Flack thinking she was crazier than he already assumed.

"You don't have to go into any details," he told her, almost as if he could read her thoughts.

Taylor nodded, "I know. Thank you," she sighed. "And then Danny got angry with me."

Flack frowned, "Taylor, I've known Danny a long time. He has a lot of skeletons in his closet – more than he'll tell even me," he paused. "I… he doesn't mean to upset you. It was him that called me and told me to find you. He does care, and he knew he had upset you."

"He doesn't like letting people in, does he?" she mumbled.

"He's not the only one," Flack muttered under his breath, pulling Taylor close to him.

"He likes Lindsay," said Taylor into his chest, not having heard what he said.

"I know," he said.

"I know you know," said Taylor. "It seems that everyone other than Lindsay does. I think she likes him, though."

Flack nodded and stared at the clock. It was just after three. "I think you should get to bed," he told her.

The only response he got was a soft snore. He looked down and watched her sleeping, before realizing that they would both be sleeping on his couch. He reached down for the covers, shifting into a more comfortable position. In all honesty, his movements didn't seem to wake her, and he probably could have carried her to the bed without disturbing her, but the truth was, he liked the feel of her chest rising and falling against him.

Maybe Danny had been right. Maybe.


	49. Shoulda Had A Bath Instead

_22/06/2006_

**Chapter 48: Shoulda Had A Bath Instead**

Taylor awoke the following morning feeling very safe, despite an annoying itch under her cast. With her eyes still closed, she snuggled deeper into the pillow, trying to forget about the itch, only the pillow wasn't all that squishy, and it had a heartbeat. As she frowned and tried to recall the previous evening, the blanket around her tightened its grasp of her.

Taylor finally opened her eyes and found that she was actually laying on top of Flack, who was still fast asleep, his mouth slightly open. She frowned, unsure as to how and why she was in his arms and bed… well, couch, again.

She tried to wriggle her way out of his grasp, but his hold on her only tightened. She sighed, unsure as to how she was going to get out of this one, when her arm spasmed, because of the itch, and she jerked herself and him, off the couch and onto the floor.

"What the?" Flack cried, waking with a start.

Taylor looked up at him. "Um, sorry."

Flack looked back down at her. "Morning."

"Morning," she groaned. "Are you going to stay on top of me all day?" she asked him, when he didn't move.

Flack was off her in an instant. "I'm going getting a shower," he informed her before disappearing.

Taylor stretched as she tried to remember what had happened. The only thing springing to mind was the Everclear – and that had clearly done what it said on the bottle – and kept her mind ever clear.

A while later and she had swapped positions with Flack and was in the shower, her cast carefully sealed in a plastic bag. Unlike last time, he had actually saved her enough hot water for her to have a somewhat enjoyable shower. She was wrapped in a towel and trying to brush her curls with Flack's comb when Maddy and the ghost appeared. "What?" she asked Maddy, who was staring at her with her eyebrows raised.

"What, she asks?" Maddy said, "Someone didn't sleep in their own bed last night."

Taylor rolled her eyes, "I liked it better when you were alive and not keeping tabs on me," she muttered.

"Yeah, can't say the feeling's not mutual. However, if you can extract yourself from the blue-eyed wonder, Danny found Casper's body."

Taylor turned to 'Casper' and narrowed her eyes,. "Are you aware," she asked Maddy whilst not taking her eyes off of the male ghost, "That Casper here isn't such a friendly ghost and belongs to a gang?"

Maddy shook her head, "I don't think so," she told her. Taylor diverted her gaze to her dead friend. "I think it was a clue."

"I got that," Taylor muttered. The ghost nodded in agreement and lifted up his shirt. The tattoo was no longer there. Taylor frowned. "Fine," she sighed, "I'm going to get dressed and head into the lab."

"That's the spirit," said Maddy cheerfully, "You can play cops and robbers with the detective later."

Maddy and the ghost disappeared before the comb Taylor flung could pass through her.

. . .

A good while later and a semi-uncomfortable ride in silence to the lab, Taylor could still feel her cheeks burning. Not only was she still in yesterday's clothes, but after struggling for too long, she'd had to ask Flack for help to get dressed. She'd had the cast on for a day and she was already fed up with it. On top of that, the arm underneath still hadn't stopped itching.

She sighed and headed to the thirty eighth floor in a search for Danny. She found him in the ballistics lab with his glasses perched on his head as he peered into a microscope.

"You found him then?" she asked warily, unsure as to whether or not he was going to bite her head off again.

"I found someone," said Danny as he brought his head back up and watched the journalist perch on a stool opposite.

"Someone?"

Danny flung a folder over. "He didn't have a Bullet's tattoo," he told her as she flicked through the photographs of the victim.

Taylor shook her head. "No, you have the ghost – I think the tattoo was a clue as to who killed him. Do you have a name for him?"

"His prints weren't in the system, but he has a relative who matches his DNA that is. A sister." He nodded to the folder.

Taylor flicked through the pages until she found a rap sheet for Amanda Andrews – three priors for drug possession. "Drugs? Perhaps that is the link to the Bullets."

Danny nodded. "That and the bullets. They match to a gun which was used in another murder a year ago, which was registered to a Raymond Cook – the father of William "Biggs" Cook, who is quite high up in the hierarchy of the Bullets."

"So let's go get the gun and make a comparison," said Taylor.

"It's not that simple," Danny sighed. "The gun was listed as stolen sixteen months ago."

"Well, that's a bit of a coincidence," Taylor muttered. "So where does that leave us?"

"Us?" Danny repeated. "I told you, Taylor. There is no us."

"Danny," Taylor sighed. "Whether or not you like it, or even if I like it, Andrews' ghost is going to continue to visit me until he feels he can move on. Frankly, the sooner that happens, the less likely I am to have another bone broken by some angry ghost."

Danny stared at her for a while before sighing. "You can come with me to see Amanda. She needs to know her brother is dead."

Taylor nodded and, after Danny had put the evidence away, followed him out to the company Avalanche. It wasn't until they were waiting for a red to change that Danny turned to her. "What?" she asked him, suspicious as to the look he was giving her.

"You smell of Flack, again."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Mind out of the gutter, Danny," she muttered.

Danny grinned. "You can be too easy to wind up."

With one dead friend, and the majority of others being CSIs, the prospect of Taylor having a private personal life was slowly drifting away.

. . .

They pulled up outside a grotty looking apartment block, only a few blocks away from the location Andrews had given Taylor and the two of them trudged up to the eleventh floor. The elevator was out of order, much to Danny's annoyance, which he took out on the door as he knocked, or rather, hammered on it. Finally, the door was answered by a small blonde who clearly looked like she was on something illegal. "Ma'am, are you Amanda Andrews?"

The blonde gave him a very spacey nod.

"Could we come in for a few minutes?" he asked her, flashing his badge.

Amanda seemed to spring to life, slamming the door closed in their faces, but not before she had punched Danny in the face. Danny had broken the door down and placed the handcuffs on her before Taylor's brain could process what had happened.

"Are you alright?" she asked him after he had finished reading Amanda her rights.

Danny nodded, pushing Amanda out into the corridor and towards the stairs. "Yeah, she's that high she didn't hit very hard."

Taylor nodded and followed the two back down the stairs. As Danny was loading Amanda into the back seat of the Avalanche, she suddenly became aware of eyes on her. She looked up at the building and realised that three men were watching them. As they saw she was looking at them, they disappeared back inside. Taylor shuddered and got in the car.

. . .

Danny sat down opposite the blonde and stared at her, subconsciously rubbing his cheek. Truth be told, the young woman had managed to get a good punch on him and it was stinging like a bitch. Not that he was going to admit that to Taylor, even though the thought of being mothered wasn't too unappealing at that point. "Assaulting an officer," he said. "Great start to the day, don't you think?"

Amanda sat swaying in her chair, seemingly unaware as to where she was, or why she was there.

"Amanda, did you know that your brother is dead?"

Amanda slowly focused in on Danny. "Robert?"

Danny sighed and pulled out one of the photographs of the body and placed it gently in front of her. "Is this your brother?" he asked her softly.

Amanda stared at the photograph, the tears slowly building up in her eyes. "What happened to Bobby?"

"He was shot."

The tears began to splash on the table.

"Amanda, does the name William Cook mean anything to you?" Danny asked. Amanda shook her head. "What about 'Biggs'?" Danny tried again. This time Amanda froze, a look of panic washing her face, before she quickly shook her head. "Amanda, if you withhold any kind of evidence, you could be preventing us from finding your brother's killer, and you could also be finding yourself with a charge of withholding evidence being added to assaulting an officer."

Amanda just shook her head again. Danny tried a few more questions, but she clammed up. He nodded to the uniform and watched as Amanda was escorted from the room.

. . .

Taylor sighed and watched as Danny gathered up the papers from the table in front of him. She cast a sympathetic glance at Robert who had been watching the interview with Maddy, who had wrapped her arms around him, looking clearly upset. She let herself out and met Danny in the hallway.

"Oh my God, Danny, are you alright?"

Danny and Taylor turned around to find that Lindsay had spotted them and was making a beeline towards them. Her eyes had widened in horror at the bruise that was already beginning to form on his cheek. "I'm fine, Montana," he said gruffly.

"What happened?" she pressed.

"Junkie with something to hide," he told her, indicating to Amanda as she was being led down the hallway. Instead of chatting, he left, following the suspect.

Lindsay turned and finally noticed Taylor. "Have they discharged you already?"

Taylor looked down at the floor and scratched her head.

"What happened to your hand?" Lindsay cried, noticing the cast. "Did she attack you too?"

"No, it was, um…"

Lindsay's eyes narrowed as she studied Taylor. "This has something to do with what happened to you at the subway station?"

Taylor sighed, "Something like that."

"Taylor!" Lindsay exclaimed. "Mac told you to stay in the hospital."

"Lindsay, I broke my arm in the hospital," Taylor objected.

"Who are you protecting, Taylor?"

"I'm not protecting anyone," she protested, "I'm only trying to protect myself."

Lindsay shook her head. "There are some things I just don't understand about you," she muttered.

"Lindsay," Taylor pleaded, but Lindsay had already turned and walked away. She sighed and leant back against the wall. "What is it going to take for you to realise that I'm not making it up?" she whispered to the retreating back.

Lindsay was turning out to be a good friend, and Taylor was pretty certain that should she ever need it, she would have her back… unless there were ghosts involved. She let out another sigh and hurried down the corridor to catch up with Danny. "Where to next?"

"Nowhere," Danny told her firmly.

"Surely we should be bringing Biggs in now?"

"No, Taylor, we shouldn't be. How many times do I have to say this for it to sink in? There is no _we_," Danny said, his anger beginning to resurface. "The Brooklyn Bullets are dangerous. They kill people and get away with it because they dispose of any evidence."

"Danny-"

"Taylor, I am not going to have this discussion again," Danny said, cutting her off. "You are not a cop, or a criminalist – you're a journalist. You stick to your job, and I'll stick to mine. If you want to watch interviews, or volunteer information, fine, but you are not coming with me," he snapped at her.

Taylor stepped backwards. As Danny had been talking he had been walking towards her. She nodded at him, but instead of allowing her to say anything, he stalked off. Taylor watched him leave, unsure as to what it was that was working him up so much about the whole case

. . .

By the time it had gotten dark again, Taylor had been back at the computer doing more research into the Brooklyn Bullets by reading through old newspaper articles. They had actually done a really good job of keeping themselves out of the papers as there were never more than a handful of mentions.

Robert and Maddy hadn't turned up again, so she decided to call it a night. If nothing else, her arm was driving her mad from the itching and she was determined to find something like a knitting needle and poke it under the cast. Not that she had a knitting needle. She didn't knit. But she had to have something suitable.

That and it was about time she went home to talk to Marty.

She decided to walk the few blocks, rather than get a cab, hoping the walk would relieve some of the tension. It helped a little and by the time she headed inside to the living room, where she flopped onto the couch with Marty, using him as a human foot rest, she was feeling a bit better.

"You're back then," he told her, not taking his eyes of the television.

Maybe not for long.

Taylor swung her legs around onto the floor. "Oh, Marty, please tell me you aren't about to start with what I think you're about to."

"You could have told me you were seeing him." he told her, turning off the TV.

"I'm not seeing him. He's a homicide detective – he happens to be in the crime lab when I am!" she exclaimed.

"Uh huh? And where were you last night?"

"Marty, you are not my boyfriend, and you are not my father. If I decided to go out, then damn it, I will. You're the reason I stayed there, anyway." She got up and stormed into her room, slamming her door behind her, where she pulled out a pair of shorts and top and her running shoes and put them on.

Grabbing her phone, (Lindsay had returned it to her whilst she was busy on the computer), she plugged the headphones in and turned on the mp3 player. Selecting some Dubstep, she turned up the music, as loud as it would go, and left the house, ignoring Marty who was trying to say something to her.

She ran to Central Park and began to pound it along one of the footpaths, amongst the trees. She was fuming. It was none of Marty's business who she saw. Not that she was seeing Flack nor was she even considering it, considering the guy drove her crazy.

Not only were thoughts of Flack occupying her thoughts, for all the wrong reasons, there was this case. Murder was never good, but this case was annoying her. Everything about it was… wrong. And then there was Danny who was reacting badly to the case. Sure it was dangerous, but it was only a ghost which was hurting her – he definitely knew something more than he was letting on. Which led her to the violent ghost. At this rate it wasn't going to be just the spirits who visited her who needed a guardian.

She glanced down at her phone. She had been running for the best part of an hour with all these thought running around her head and it was now completely dark. She slowed to a walk, realizing that she was exhausted, and tried to catch her breath. With the music still blasting into her ears, she didn't hear the movement behind her.

A cloth bag was shoved over her head and her phone ripped out of her ears as someone grabbed her arms behind her back and pushed forward until she slammed into a tree. She was pulled away and someone clamped a hand over her mouth, pushing the cloth into her mouth, before forcing her face first into the ground.

"Running by yourself, in the middle of Central Park, in the middle of the night? Not really the cleverest of ideas, was it?"

Taylor froze. Even if the material wasn't in her mouth, she wasn't sure she would be able to breathe. Her head was pounding from when it had connected to the tree, and her arms were twisted painfully. She wasn't completely certain, but she thought she had felt something else crack.

Taylor listened carefully. If she was to come out of this alive, the only senses she had to go on was sound and smell. Other than the smell of sugar and urine – a strange combination, she could smell a scent. An aftershave which she didn't recognize. Sound wise, she could hear three people breathing and a car engine in the background.

"Stay away from things that don't concern you," came another voice.

Taylor stuck her nails into the hands holding hers: one thing was for certain, it wasn't a ghost attacking her this time. She never got to hear what the message was because something came crashing down on her head.


	50. Stupid Doesn't Begin To Describe It

_23/06/2006_

**Chapter 49: Stupid Doesn't Begin To Describe It**

Mac walked over to the taped off area with Stella and approached Flack who was stood waiting patiently. Sheldon was already there, photographing the body which was laying face down in the dirt. "What have we got?" he asked the other detective.

"Early morning joggers found her this morning," Flack told them, pointing to two middle age men who looked like they were trying to lose weight. "Called the police. First officer couldn't find the pulse. Looks like she's been out here all night. Couldn't find any ID on her."

Mac nodded and went over to the two joggers with Flack, leaving Stella to help Sheldon. "Cold morning," she said to him as she rubbed at her arms. "You wouldn't think it was the middle of July."

Sheldon stopped taking photos and pointed to the ground and a crushed phone. "She has one of those new Nokia's. That one has an mp3 player in it. Like Taylor has. She probably never heard the attackers."

Stella sighed. "Probably never saw them either," she said, indicating to a sack over the victim's head. "Who goes running in Central Park at night time?" She looked down at the dishevelled clothes. "We're going to have to do a sexual assault kit. Are you ready for me to turn her?"

Sheldon nodded and bought the camera back to his eye as Stella flipped the woman over. He took a couple of pictures and stopped. "Stella, is her chest moving?"

Stella looked carefully at her, "Mac, get a paramedic!" she yelled. She was about to pull the bag off when Sheldon stopped her and pointed at a the plaster cast which had been revealed as she had been turned over.

. . .

Taylor slowly came around to find she had a pounding headache. She was about to try and open her eyes when someone started shouting. Her eyes flew open to find she still had the bag over her head. Sensing someone stood near her, she kicked out. She was rewarded by a metallic crack and glass breaking and a shout of pain. Which was quickly followed by someone trying to restrain her as she struggled against them.

"Taylor!" A familiar voice shouted at her.

Taylor stopped moving and allowed someone to take the bag off. She was blinded as the light came flooding to her eyes. She could hear a lot of swearing and movement as sight slowly returned to her. The first thing she saw was Mac crouched down in front of her. She flung herself at him and was relieved to find him holding her. She turned her head into him and shut her eyes tightly, aware she was shivering violently, and equally aware it wasn't just from the cold, nor was she able to control it.

A jacket was draped over her shoulders and she allowed herself to be led over to Mac's car and be seated in the passenger seat, where the ignition was switched on to blast heat at her. Mac took a step back and allowed Stella to come in. "What happened?" she asked her, gently placing a hand on Taylor's bare leg.

Taylor opened her eyes and stared at the hand. "I was angry." She started, taking a deep breath. "I tried to drink the anger away the day before, but last night I decided the best way for me to vent is to change the anger into energy."

Behind Mac, Sheldon made a sound. Taylor looked over at him and the broken camera he was holding, "I am so sorry," she muttered before staring at the ground. "Short of punching the crap out of a punching bag, the only other thing I can manage is running, so I went running. It was about nine when I left." She shut her eyes and leant her head back against the headrest. "I ran for about an hour, I checked my phone at ten past ten." She sighed. "The phone isn't in one piece, is it?"

After no one told her otherwise, she continued, "I was going to catch my breath before heading back when someone stuck the bag over my head. My phone was taken off me and my arms twisted behind my back and I was, well, rammed head first into a tree." She raised her hand to her forehead and gingerly touched it, wincing at the pain. When she looked at her hand there was blood covering it.

"There were at least three people there. Two of them spoke to me and they were definitely New York accents. Um, I dug my nails into one of them," she added, still looking at her hands, she realised they were shaking, and she quickly closed them into fists. "And there was a car. And then I got smacked in the back of the head."

"We need to get you to a hospital," said Stella.

"No, I'm fine." Taylor told her.

"Taylor, you need to get checked out. You were attacked. We really need to get a Sexual ass-"

"I wasn't raped." Taylor told them shortly.

"Taylor, a traumatic event like this can affect your memory." Said Mac.

"I would have thought, for starters, that that account I'd just given you was a clear indication that my memory was fine. And I know I wasn't raped. This was nothing to do with a rape, or a mugging," she told them.

"What makes you so sure?" Stella asked her.

Taylor frowned. "About what? The fact I wasn't raped, or the fact I know it wasn't about rape."

Stella shrugged. "Both."

"The two men that spoke to me."

"What did they say?" Mac asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Keep out of our business," Taylor told them. "It's pretty clear. It's a warning."

"This is to do with the gang case Danny came to me with," said Mac. It was a statement, not a question.

"I think so." Taylor got up and out of the car, walking past Stella. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find myself a new phone, get changed, a shower, perhaps a bit of food, then I'm going to help you find the people that did this so that I can kick the crap out of them."

"Taylor," Mac called after her.

Taylor stopped, took a deep breath and turned around, "I know I'm not a CSI or a cop, or anything, Mac," she told him, her stare meeting his. "But I don't want to be treated as a victim, and I don't want to be punished for it either." She turned back around to find Flack standing in front of her. She rolled her eyes at him and turned back round to Mac.

"Taylor, I want you to wait for the paramedics and let them check you out. I think you're going to need stitches."

"Fine," she agreed, knowing she wasn't going to win that battle.

"Get seen by a medic, then I want you to go home with Stella and Flack," Mac continued. "They'll make sure your clothes get bagged up. Have a shower and a rest."

"Do you want your jacket back?" she asked him.

Mac shook his head and watched her walk off to the ambulance which was just pulling up, accompanied by Flack. He turned to Stella and Sheldon. "We need to get these guys."

"Are you sure she should be on this case?" Stella asked him, a little surprised by Mac's reaction.

"No. It's going against my better judgement, even though she's not actually going to do any work. You know that, and I know that. But we both also know, that if we don't keep an eye on her, she'll end up tracking them down herself, like she did with Janice Brown, and next time, she probably won't be as lucky," he sighed. "Besides, at least this way we can keep an eye on her."

. . .

Taylor waited for the ambulance to stop and watched as two familiar faces stepped out. She cringed inwardly whilst managing to keep her face impassive and smiled at the two medics. "Hi guys."

"Taylor?" asked the driver.

"Hi Doc." She followed him to the back of the bus and waited for him to open the door so she could get in and on a stretcher.

"What happened?" asked his partner, Kim, as she wrapped a blanket around the shivering journalist. The two were old friends of Marty, back from the days he was an intern at Mercy, and the two had been around for drinks before.

"My head collided with a tree," she told them as she sat down.

Kim sat opposite her and looked at the cut. "This looks deep. It's going to need stitches. And when was your last tetanus shot?"

Doc shook his head at the expression on Taylor's face. "I'll do it, Kim. Pass me the child friendly stitches and some saline."

Taylor watched as Kim handed him a pot of saline and some swabs and allowed him to clean the cut up, trying not to wince too much. "I didn't know you covered this area."

"Ugh," said Doc. "New procedures and such. We're spread out thin enough as it is."

"Carlos doesn't seem to be complaining much."

"That's because Doc paired him up with some bimbo who worships the ground he walks on," grumbled Kim.

"The other option is to have him working with you." Doc told her. "Are you still living with Marty?" he asked Taylor. Taylor nodded. Doc frowned and stared at the wound, "Taylor, this blood. Not all of its fresh."

"No, some of its probably eight hours old by now," she sighed. Here was the conversation she was dreading.

"You did this last night?" Doc asked her. Taylor nodded. "So why didn't you get this treated sooner."

"I wasn't conscious," she mumbled.

"You spent the night in the Park?"

"Yeah," she nodded, wincing.

"I thought you said your head collided with a tree?" Kim said, as she pulled a blanket off a shelf and draped it around her.

"It did," Taylor agreed, chewing at her lip. "Only it was kinda pushed there by someone."

"What were you doing in the Park at that time of night anyway?" Doc exploded.

"I had an argument with Marty so I went running to clear my head," Taylor quickly explained.

"I am going to kill him!" cried Doc.

"Doc, Marty didn't do this to me and he didn't make me go running," Taylor told him firmly. "I made the decision myself. And yes, I know it was stupid."

"Stupid doesn't even begin to describe it." The three of them turned around to find Flack standing in the doorway.

"Boyfriend?" asked Kim.

"Hell no!" they both cried. "Flack, get out and leave me alone!" Taylor added.

"Are you sure nothing is going on between you two?" Kim asked as Flack stormed off.

"Am I done yet?" Taylor snapped.

"Yeah," said Doc, stepping back. "And I don't want to see you in here again."

"You're better off seeing me in there then at my funeral," Taylor told him as she stepped down from the bus.

"That is not something to be joking about," said Flack, stepping around from the side of the ambulance, Stella in tow, looking equal disapproving.

"Uh huh. Right, I am going home and getting out of these shorts, because I am freezing." Looking at the expressions on their faces Taylor stopped and leant against the ambulance. "I'm sorry. I just want to go home and have a shower, and start to feel something like I was yesterday. I don't want to stand around feeling victimised or treated with kid gloves." She sighed, "I just don't want to think about what happened."

Stella put her arm around Taylor, "Come on, let's get you home."


	51. They're All Just Worried

_23/06/2006_

**Chapter 50: They're All Just Worried**

Taylor held the door open and allowed Stella to leave. She had just spent the last hour having Stella process her and it wasn't something she wanted to ever go through again. "Don't worry, Taylor. We'll get them," Stella told her.

Taylor smiled sadly. "I know you will. I'll see you later."

"Make sure you get some sleep, or Mac will just send you back home. And Flack here, is going to stay and make sure you do so," she added, nodding her head in Flack's direction.

"What?" cried Taylor. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Mac's instructions. Consider it a condition to you being allowed in the Crime Lab later," Stella told her before quickly leaving, leaving Taylor and Flack staring at each other.

"You can go, you know," Taylor started to tell him.

"Don't bother," Flack told her, cutting her off. "Mac will have me killed."

"Fine, but I don't see why either of us has to be punished for this." Taylor sighed, "Make yourself at home. I'm going for a shower."

She headed to her bathroom, shut the door behind her and leant against it. Sometimes she surprised herself with her own stupidity. Perhaps she would be better off in some middle of nowhere place doing some mundane job. Having said that, by all rights, she was only a journalist – Danny had been right about that. She got in the shower and allowed the water to run over her, urging it to wash away her pain, and try to warm her up. It wasn't until the water was pounding down over her that she started crying. It was silly really. Short of a cut on her head, she was fine. But she couldn't help it.

Finally the tears stopped and she got out and after drying off and wrapping her robe back around her, she pulled some pain killer out of the cupboard above her sink and took a couple. She headed out of her bathroom and into her room where she sat down at her vanity unit and glared at herself in the mirror.

Doc had been good with his 'stitches' but she would be lucky if she didn't scar. And so far, it wasn't being a particularly lucky time for her. She was startled back from her thoughts by a knock at her door. Flack walked through it carrying three mugs, carefully trying not to spill their contents. Taylor looked expectantly at him.

He shrugged. "Didn't know if you liked coffee, tea, or hot chocolate. All three were out on the counter."

"Marty drinks the tea, and the coffee is usually for guests. I'm the one who drinks the chocolate. Thank you," she told him as he handed her one of the mugs.

"I'll take the coffee, then," he told her, after an awkward pause.

"Did you find anything on television?" Taylor asked, trying to make conversation.

"Yeah, 24."

Taylor managed a small grin, "Jack Bauer is probably one of the only people in the world who has worse luck than me." She sighed and looked down at her chocolate. "You don't have to stay, you know. I'll stay and be good and get some rest, but I know you have work to do."

"Forget it. I'm staying," he told her and left the room.

Admitting defeat, Taylor took her drink over to her bed and snuggled up under the blue sheets. Within minutes, she had soon fallen asleep herself.

. . .

Taylor awoke with a scream, her heart pounding – she's just relived the events of the previous night, only things hadn't turned out as well. At the sound of the scream, Flack was in her room in an instant. "What's the matter?"

Taylor shook her head. "Bad dream," she told him, thinking he would leave her.

He didn't, instead climbing onto the bed next to her and wrapping his arms around her. It was exactly what Taylor needed and soon the tears were flooding down her face.

. . .

Taylor awoke with a start and glanced at her clock. She'd been asleep for just over three hours, and then realised what it was that had awoken her: raised voices coming from outside her door. "You don't need to be here anymore. I'm here now."

"And where were you last night?" Flack's tone was accusatory.

"I went to work," Marty shot back.

Taylor got out of bed and stood in her doorway watching Marty, who had clearly just got in from work, and Flack standing close to each other, both looking furious. Knowing both of them, she wasn't sure who was going to win the argument.

"What time did you go to work?" Flack yelled at him.

"My shift started at two." Marty was shouting back.

"Two am? So she's not in the apartment for five hours and you don't think to check on her," Flack asked, furious.

Marty threw him a dirty look. "I thought she was around at yours."

"Why the hell would she be around at mine?" Flack asked him.

"Guys!" cried Taylor, from her bedroom doorway.

"Well she was at yours the night before. I thought it was a reoccurring theme," continued Marty, ignoring Taylor.

"Martin Pino!" Taylor shouted.

"It was one night, and nothing happened," Flack shouted back at him.

"Donald Flack!" Taylor tried again.

"Well one night can turn into two."

"For crying out loud, I'm in the room. Can we please stop discussing my sex life, or lack thereof!" Taylor asked in exasperation.

"And that would be you talking from experience, would it?" Flack flared.

"Damnit, I wish I knew your middle names," Taylor muttered, still unnoticed by the two arguing men.

"We aren't talking about me here." Marty roared, flinging his jacket onto the back of the couch.

"I think we are talking about you, and how you should have called when she hadn't come back." Flack snapped back. "Maybe this wouldn't have happened."

"It would have happened anyway," said Taylor. "If a message was going to get passed on, they were going to do it, regardless of whether it happened last night, or on my way to work." The two men were still arguing about her, and still ignoring her. "Fine, you two argue," she told them, as she walked past them towards the door, "I'm going for a run."

She didn't have time to get to the door before she was pinned against the wall by Flack, and Marty's jacket was being held over her (she was still in a small vest top and a pair of short shorts). "You're going nowhere dressed like that," Marty was telling her.

"Good point," Taylor said, glancing at her feet, "I have no shoes on."

"This is hardly a time to be joking," Flack told her. He still looked furious.

"No," Taylor agreed. "And this is hardly a time to be arguing. And could you please let go of my arms. They already ache."

Flack and Taylor looked at each other for a few moments before Flack released her. "Sorry," he muttered.

"My ass there's nothing going on," fumed Marty as he stormed into the kitchen. Taylor looked again at Flack, before she sighed and padded after Marty. She found him standing at the sink, clutching at the side so his knuckles were white, and staring out of the window. Taylor leant against the island counter and stared at the back of his head. "You could have let me know," he told her, turning around. "I thought I deserved the right to that – this is the second time you've been hurt, and no-one told me. Stella had to come into the morgue to let me know."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I really am sorry. I just… I'm sorry."

Marty walked over to her and hugged her. "Don't apologise. Just don't do it again. I do care about you, you know?"

Taylor smiled at him. "Please stop arguing with Flack. There is nothing going on with us."

He nodded, though his expression told her he didn't believe her. "Come on, let's get you back into bed."

Taylor shook her head, "I can't do that, Marty."

"You are not going to work," he told her. "You are in no fit state."

"Marty, please let's not do this. I have no intention of going into work, anyway," she added.

Marty's mouth dropped open. "You can't seriously think you're going to the lab?"

Taylor nodded. "There's a killer still out there."

"Taylor!" Marty cried in a combination of exasperation and anger.

"Marty," she started, calmly. "If something like this happened to you, you wouldn't be sitting around. You'd be out on the streets, and I am no different. If you want to mother me, then do it later." Her voice broke, "I can't sit around her, Marty. I need something to take my mind… to distract me. I need to be busy."

Marty sighed and wrapped his arms around her. "Don't you dare leave Flack, or any of the CSI's sights. I mean it, Taylor."

Taylor wiped away the few stray tears from her cheek before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. She gave his arm a squeeze and headed back into the living room. "I can't stay here, Flack," she told the detective softly.

He stared at her from where he was standing and sighed. "No, I didn't think you would."

Taylor stared at him in bewilderment. "You're not going to argue with me on this one?"

Flack shrugged. "What's the point? You'd only end up at the Lab anyway."

"I guess I do have a bit of a determined streak," she said, managing a weak smile, before she headed to her room.

"Personally, I think calling you as stubborn as a mule would be an understatement," Flack muttered to the closed door.


	52. Bathroom Antics

_25/06/2006_

**Chapter 51: Bathroom Antics**

Flack and Taylor were sharing yet another car journey in silence. Taylor, for once, didn't know what to say. Flack, on the other hand seemed to know exactly what it was he wanted to, but was struggling with himself to _not_ say whatever it was that was on his mind. It wasn't until they had arrived at the lab and were in the elevator that Taylor decided that she would pry. "Spill it."

Flack glanced down at her. "It's not important," he told her, before returning his attention to the climbing numbers.

Taylor looked dubious. "There's something you want to say. Say it."

"I said, it's not important," Flack told her, stubbornly staring up.

"Flack, every time you open your mouth, you stop. It's like you're scared of what you have to say," Taylor told him.

"Scared?" Flack repeated, rounding on her, his eyes dark with anger.

Had Taylor not been leaning against the wall, she would have taken a step backwards. He had a look in his eyes which was reminiscent of the one Danny had, seconds before he had shouted at her. Taylor wasn't wrong.

"Scared?" he exploded. "No, Taylor. Scared was what I felt when they pulled that bag off your head. Scared was what I felt when I saw that gash on your head." He turned so that I he was stood directly in front of her. "Scared was what I felt when I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!" he roared at her.

Taylor stared up at him with tears in her eyes.

"Do you realise exactly how stupid you were to go running in Central Park at NIGHTTIME. For all intents and purposes, you deserve to be dead for that act of complete stupidity!" Flack continued, punching the wall.

Behind them, the door pinged open to their floor. Taylor let out a sob as she ducked under his arms and bolted. She heard the sound of Flack's shoe bouncing off the side of the elevator as he kicked it, followed by Danny shouting after her. So she went to the one place they couldn't go – the ladies bathroom.

Well, where she thought they couldn't go.

"Drew?" Taylor sat on the toilet seat hoping Danny would just leave her alone. Of course, there was no such luck. "Taylor…? I saw you come in here, you know?"

"This is the ladies bathroom, Messer," Taylor pointed out miserably.

"Point out the lady and I'll leave," he retorted.

He was stood right outside her cubicle – she could see his feet. "What do you want?" she demanded.

"To see if you were alright?" he replied, as though that was obvious.

Taylor snorted. "Alright? I have a broken arm which won't stop itching, a gash on my forehead which is going to leave a scar the size of the Grand Canyon, a pounding headache, I got attacked and spent a night unconscious in the Park, and Flack has just shouted at me for it. So I'm sat crying in the bathroom. Yeah – I'm fine, thanks for asking."

There was silence and the feet disappeared from her sight. Taylor waited for the sound of the bathroom door closing, but it didn't come. Instead…

"Well, he has a point, to be fair."

Taylor looked up and found Danny hanging over the side of the cubicle, staring down at her. Unlike Flack, however, he wasn't angry. Only upset.

Taylor sighed and allowed her head to sink into her hands, "I know," she told him, her voice muffled by her palms.

"So, are you going to open the door, or am I going to have to climb over." Taylor looked up in time to see Danny's boot hovering next to him. She got to her feet and left the cubicle quickly before a second person had to walk around with a cast… well, as he probably would have broken his leg, a better term would have been hobbled. Danny jumped down and smiled at her. "Sorry. I would have sent Lindsay or Stella in, but they're both out. And I didn't think you would appreciate a random lab tech being sent in."

Taylor walked over to the sink and sighed at her blotchy reflection," Flack's right. I am an idiot."

Danny walked over to her and gave her a sympathetic smile. "Yeah, you are." Taylor managed a small smile. "And for the record, you are probably going to get a lecture off Mac and Stella," he added, giving her a hug.

"I know," Taylor sighed into his shoulder.

The door to the bathroom opened and a lab tech walked in. She froze when she saw the two, "I… I… I'm sorry," she stuttered before bolting back out.

Taylor and Danny looked at each other and laughed.

. . .

Danny had been right. Mac had spotted her when the two of them had walked out of the bathroom (he'd raised his eyebrows at that one, but hadn't said anything) and called her to his office, where he had proceeded to give her a fifty eight minute lecture. The only reason he had stopped was because he had received a page.

As she had left Mac's goldfish bowl of an office, she had been spotted by Stella, who had just gotten back. Stella had dragged her into the break room, shouted at her for thirty six minutes, cried with her for another ten and followed it all up with a lecture to rival Mac's, of fifty seven minutes.

She had only stopped when Danny had come in and pointed out that no one had been confident enough to walk into the break room to disturb them and there were many lab techs with rumbling stomachs, and just as many CSIs needing a caffeine fix.

Finally, Taylor was left on her own again. For all of thirty seconds.

"About time they left you alone," complained Maddy as she appeared with her arms folded tightly under her breasts, Robert at her side.

"You could have appeared with Stella or Mac in the room, you know," muttered Taylor as she swallowed some pain killer. Somewhat unsurprisingly, a few hours' worth of, albeit _deserved_, lectures had left her with another headache.

"I could have, but then they would have sent you to hospital because they would have thought you were hallucinating. They can't see me, you know," Maddy reminded her.

Taylor frowned. "You and me are going to have serious words about that rule, Maddy."

"Later. As it stands, I feel I should be lecturing you about your complete stupidity, however," she added quickly at the pained expression on Taylor's face, "Casper here has something for you."

"You can't keep calling all the ghosts Casper, Maddy," Taylor sighed in exasperation. "It's disrespectful."

Maddy shrugged, "I haven't had any objections." Taylor shook her head in disbelief, before turning her attention to Robert. He was holding a slip of paper with a telephone number on it.

"Help me," he told her, as Taylor wrote the number down on her cast – it had its uses. As the two ghosts disappeared again, Taylor left the break room and headed to the office Danny and Lindsay shared. Neither were in but she sat down at a desk anyway and picked up the phone and dialled the number.

As soon as the person on the other end of the phone answered, she knew what Robert had been trying to do.

. . .

"He was trying to help get you clean, wasn't he?" Taylor had gone straight to the cell where Amanda was being held. Amanda, who was clearly going through a withdrawal, nodded miserably. "And what? You told him you were trying and secretly seeing your dealer.

Amanda nodded again. "He wanted me checked into rehab and go cold turkey, but I was scared, so I went for a few hits to last me," she let out a sob. "When he found my supply, he told me he was going to make sure that I couldn't buy anymore. He washed it down the sink. I'm not worth it."

Taylor sighed. "Amanda, he died to save you. He clearly thought you were," she paused. "He had you down to check into a rehab the day after tomorrow."

"It's a bit late for me now," Amanda sobbed.

Taylor shook her head. "Help the detectives get your dealer and the only charge you'll have is an assault charge. Use the time to get clean."

"I can't," Amanda whispered, petrified.

Taylor frowned. "If I can think of something, will you please promise me, and your brother that you will get yourself clean?"

Amanda stared at her warily through her tears. "How are you going to do that?"

"I'll think of something," she reassured her. Amanda thought about it and nodded. Taylor left her wondering exactly what it was she was going to do.

Her head was still in the clouds as she headed back to Danny's office, until she caught a whiff of a conversation drifting out of one of the labs. The only thing that had made her stop and eavesdrop was the fact she had heard her name.

"…Spent the night unconscious in the Park."

"Yeah, he was so worried."

"Worried?" laughed the first voice. "He went into the bathroom to comfort her. I tell you, had I walked in a few minutes later, I think it would have turned into an x-rated moment."

"I guess we were wrong about that pool – we should have had money going on her instead of Monroe."

Taylor bit back a chuckle – this was rather entertaining.

"I know," piped up a third voice. "But then again, look at his record – it was coming."

"What do you mean?" asked the second.

"Well, he has a history, you know. He has connections to Tanglewood."

Taylor frowned. This was a new development.

"What has that got to do with him sleeping with the journalist?"

"Well, apparently, her attack was gang related. He's probably done something to upset the gang leaders – like becoming a cop."

"So, they go after his girlfriend?" gasped the first.

"Yup. I told you there would be a price to pay to be with someone that divine."

"If I could sleep with him," sighed the second. "I would gladly risk anything."

_Well_, thought Taylor, _its official. They're crazy_. Deciding to break up the conversation, she walked into the room, which instantly fell into an awkward silence. "Hi ladies, sorry to bother you when you're busy working, but have you seen Danny anywhere?"

The first lab tech looked at the other two with an _I told you so_ look. "I think he's in his office."

"Thanks," smiled Taylor as she walked back out of the room. She headed back to his office and sat down in Lindsay's chair, putting her feet up on the desk, with a smug smile plastered on her face.

Danny looked over from his computer, "What?"

"Guess who's the hottest new couple, and obviously, topic of gossip in this here lab?" she asked him. Danny shrugged. "You and me," Taylor laughed.

"What are you talking about?" Danny asked.

"I just caught a conversation between three of your lab techs, one of whom walked in on us earlier. Apparently we were about to get down to doing the dirty in the bathroom."

Danny laughed. "That's priceless."

Taylor smirked. "I know. We should wind them up. Their lives must be so boring."

Danny smirked back, "Maybe we will." He turned his attention back to the computer.

Taylor glanced at the small bruise that had formed where Amanda had smacked him. "How's your cheek?"

"Fine. How's your head?"

"Dosed up on painkiller," Taylor sighed.

Danny looked up again and frowned. "Alright, what's on your mind?"

Taylor swung her feet of the table and sat upright. "Robert was trying to help Amanda get clean. He had her booked into a rehab clinic."

Danny frowned, "And?"

"Well, his death seems to have hit her, and I think she's willing to give it a try," Taylor shrugged.

Danny pulled a face. "Once a junkie, always a junkie, Drew."

"You don't believe in second chances?" Taylor asked, surprised.

Danny shook his head at her. "Of course I do. Lord knows I have had enough given to me, but with drugs it's different. She'll get clean, end up in prison, and then she'll get hooked again."

"What if she didn't go to prison?" Taylor asked him, a small idea beginning to form.

"You want me to drop the assault charges?" he asked her. "It wouldn't do much good if we found out that she was withholding information about Biggs, or whoever her dealer is."

Taylor gazed at him thoughtfully. "What if she testified against him?"

Danny sighed, "It's a nice idea, but she would be dead before it came to trial."

Taylor sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. Danny was right. From her research, she had learnt that even those who had gone into witness protection had never made it to the trial. Maybe she was actually way over her head on this one.


	53. DNA Never Lies

_25/06/2006_

**Chapter 52: DNA Never Lies**

Danny had gone with Lindsay to another 419 only a block from where Robert's body had been found. Taylor had headed back to the break room, trying to hide from the violent ghost. It had appeared again, not long after Danny had gone, and thrown Danny's mug at her. It had shattered on impact, leaving what was promising to be a nice bruise on the top of her left arm. Thankfully, before he could send anything her way, he had been tackled out of the way by Maddy and Robert, but not without a shout of rage telling her to stay out of their business.

So far, the ghost hadn't found her, but it had certainly left Taylor thinking. She was sat picking at her cast when Stella walked in. "How are you holding up?" Stella asked her as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

Taylor shrugged, "Fine, I guess."

"Don't worry," said Stella. "We got a match on the DNA we found under your fingernails. Hawkes left with Flack a good hour ago to follow up on that."

"That's good," said Taylor.

"You don't sound too happy." Stella came and sat down next to her.

Taylor leaned back into the chair and closed her eyes. "Stella, if this is related to the Brooklyn Bullets in any way, I'm going to end up dead. I can't go to court and testify against them – all their witnesses never make it there."

Stella placed a hand on Taylor's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You don't need to. The DNA is strong enough evidence."

"Are you sure?" Taylor asked, hopefully.

"Yes," said Stella, firmly. "Besides, they don't know if you're alive or dead."

"I think they might notice when I continue to publish my column," Taylor told her.

Stella frowned, "Well, when I interview the suspect, I will make sure that he knows the only reason he's there is because of the DNA, that you couldn't testify to anything."

"I don't want to go into hiding, Stella," Taylor whispered.

"You won't have to," Stella promised her. She glanced down at her pager which had started beeping at her. "Speaking of, Flack is back with the suspect. Do you want to watch?"

Taylor bit her lip and frowned, "Yeah," she said, finally.

. . .

The suspect, Theodore "Sours" Castle, was sat opposite Mac and Stella with his appointed attorney, sporting a black eye. "I want to make a complaint," Sours started. Mac looked at him. "I want to complain about police brutality," he said, pointing to his eye.

"You were resisting arrest, Castle," Stella pointed out.

"Due force," said Sours, turning to his attorney. "Does that look like due force to you?"

"I expect to see an investigation launched into this," the attorney told Mac.

"And there will be, Mr Wright, however, the arresting officer, Detective Flack has already filed assault charges on Mr Castle here, and is currently having stitches to his own face." Mac pulled out a sheet of paper from the manila folder in front of him, "We aren't here to talk about that."

"Where were you last night between ten and ten thirty, Mr Castle?" Stella asked.

Sours shrugged. "About."

"You want to narrow that down, only _about_ covers a very large area," Mac point out, patiently.

Sours looked at his attorney, who nodded, "I was with some friends cruising in my car."

Stella nodded. "Did that car make it anywhere near Central Park?"

"Nah, 'fraid not."

"That's strange," said Mac, "Because we have evidence that you were in Central Park."

"My mates will tell you otherwise," Sours informed them, smugly.

"I'm sure they will," said Stella coolly, "But they would be lying."

"You have no witness that can prove that," said Sours his expression still smug.

Stella smiled at him, "No, but we have enough evidence that we can charge you with assault."

"Assault?" asked Sours in surprise.

"Oh," exclaimed Stella in mock surprise, "Were you expecting a murder charge?"

"You don't have to answer that," the attorney told his client.

"No," continued Stella, "The woman you attacked survived. True, she didn't see you. And true, her feeble statement would get torn up in court – she didn't see _anything_," Stella emphasised. "But the thing is, she doesn't _need_ to see anything. We got you, Mr Castle."

Mac handed the sheet of paper over, "This is the result of a DNA test. She had your DNA under her fingernails. She could be dead now, but that evidence is still enough to make sure you get sent to Rikers."

. . .

Taylor walked out of the adjoining room. She couldn't watch anymore. She was shaking too much. Instead, she headed straight back to the break room and poured herself a coffee with shaking hands, hoping the caffeine would calm her nerves.

"Are you alright?"

Taylor dropped the mug and spun around as the coffee splashed all over the bottom of her combats. "Maddy! Don't do that!" she squealed in fright.

"Sorry," she muttered, watching her pick up the pieces of broken china and throw them in the trash can. "Robert's here to say goodbye."

Taylor looked over at the ghost, now clad in white, "But we haven't found your killer."

"The two detectives that went to the call near where I was found – they found my killer."

"But if they found him without you telling me where he was, why did you need to stick around?" Taylor asked, puzzled.

"Because the help I needed wasn't to find my killer. I needed your help to help Amanda," Robert Replied

Taylor sighed sadly. "I don't think I can help her."

"You already have," Robert assured her.

Taylor frowned, "How?"

"You made her promise that she would go to rehab."

"Yeah," said Taylor, "But if she was withholding information on Biggs, how's that going to help?"

"Biggs is too far up on the food chain for Amanda to have had direct dealings with him. She knew his name by reputation only."

"How are we going to prove that?" Taylor asked him.

Robert shrugged, "How are you going to prove otherwise?"

"I hope you are right," sighed Taylor, "Because otherwise she's going to end up back where she started."

Robert stared at her. "Will you make sure she makes it to the rehab centre?" Taylor nodded. "Thank you."

"Right, I'm going to take to Casper to where he needs to go, and then I'll be back," said Maddy.

Taylor nodded again and watched them go. She frowned and began mopping up the coffee when Danny came in.

"Is it you was responsible for the disappearance of my coffee mug?"

"No," she sighed. "It was the ghost. He threw it at me."

"Are you alright?" Danny asked, watching her.

"I will be," she assured him, getting back to her feet.

Danny nodded. "I dropped the assault charges, and we found Robert's killer."

"I know. About his killer, that is," Taylor added. "He came to me to say thank you. You dropped the charges?"

Danny nodded, "You were right. Just because she's a junkie doesn't mean she doesn't deserve a second chance."

Taylor smiled, "Will you help me with something?"

Danny looked hesitantly at her, "What?"

"Will you come with me to drop her off at the rehab centre?"

A look of relief passed over him. "Sure. I just need to finish up some paperwork. You want to meet me in my office in half an hour?"

Taylor nodded and the returned her attention to mopping up the coffee as he left. No sooner had she finished, then Maddy appeared again. "He's gone."

"That's good."

"I meant the second ghost," Maddy clarified.

Taylor looked over at her, "Why was he there in the first place?"

"I don't know how much I can tell you," sighed Maddy.

"Well, surely you can tell me something? My arm is in a cast," Taylor told her, holding her arm up to emphasise the point. "I deserve something."

Maddy bit her lip, "There's a balance between good and evil. What was that sciencey law – something about every reaction having an equal and opposite reaction?"

Taylor pulled a face, "Seriously, Maddy-"

"No, really," insisted Maddy, "Light/dark, sweet/sour, high/low, warm/col-"

"I get the law, Maddy, the point is, what does that have to do with my cast?" Taylor asked, rolling her eyes.

Maddy gave her a look which implied she thought her friend was asking a stupid question. "Well, bad people die too."

"Maddy, you are not telling me anything new," Taylor quickly pointed out.

"I'm trying, Taylor, but here's the thing, if I tell you the wrong thing, it could alter what's going to happen."

Taylor felt like hitting her head against a wall: she was sure it would create a similar result. "Alright, just tell me this – is this," she held up her cast, "Likely to become a reoccurring theme?"

Maddy sighed, "I think so."

"So, you're telling me that not only do I have to watch out for the bad guys that are alive, that I also have to look out for the bad guys that are dead?" Taylor asked incredulously.

Maddy looked sheepishly at the floor, "Yeah."

Taylor sank onto the couch and sighed, "Figures."

"But what you do does help," Maddy told her, almost pleadingly.

"I know, Maddy, but I'm not some superhero who's got super fast regenerative skills. It hurts when things get thrown at me."

"Well, it would help if you didn't run around Central Park by yourself in the middle of the night," Maddy couldn't help but tell her.

"This cast has nothing to do with that," exclaimed Taylor. "That crazy ghost attacked me. And something tells me, if you hadn't have disposed of him, or whatever you did, that he would still be running around trying to attack me."

"If it helps, he was a member of the Brooklyn Bullets. He was killed a week back," Maddy told her.

Taylor paled, "Hang on, you're telling me that not only can these guys escape going to prison, they can escape going to Hell, or wherever it is they get sent?" Maddy nodded. "Maddy, I can't do this job if I'm scared for my life! I won't!" Taylor cried, her eyes wide in alarm as she ran through the consequences. "I'm not going to risk someone else getting hurt in the process. And you can go tell those Powers That Be, that!" Maddy watched her friend and nodded, before disappearing to, Taylor assumed, pass on the message.

Taylor glanced at the clock. More than half an hour had passed, so she headed to Danny's office. Part way there, she found Flack heading towards her, sporting a black eye and a cut eyebrow. Taylor's mouth dropped open. She'd been expecting a cut, but he looked like he'd come off worse in the fight. "Jeeze, Flack! Are you alright?" she cried heading towards him.

Flack nodded. "He was wearing enough rings and jewellery to make Mr. T jealous. Caught me with a ring with a hefty sized rock in it."

"You should put a steak on the swelling," Taylor told him, staring at the wound as she chewed on her lip.

"A steak?" He raised his eyebrows then stopped, wincing in pain.

"It's supposed to help. Well, that's according to my mother, so take that advice with a pinch of salt," she added.

Flack managed a grin, "Sorry I yelled at you earlier."

"It's alright, I deserved it," Taylor sighed.

Flack looked at her, thinking about something, then rubbed his neck, "Do you want to go for a coffee?"

Taylor stared in puzzlement at him, "Coffee?"

"I know we wouldn't win the most attractive couple award, what with all the injuries, but yeah... actually, never mind, it was a stupid suggestion," he trailed off, making to leave.

Taylor grabbed his arm and sighed, "Flack, no, I would, only I have plans."

"Oh," he said, looking hopeful.

"TAYLOR!" Flack and Taylor turned to find Danny heading towards them, a grin on his face. "You ready for our date now?" he shouted down the corridor. Taylor turned to Flack to explain, but Danny was already there, draping his arm around her shoulder and planting a kiss on her cheek. "Hey Flack," he greeted his friend cheerfully. "Hope the eye feels better!"

And with that, he ushered Taylor towards the elevator, barely giving her time to throw a goodbye in Flack's direction. "Did you see the look on the lab ladies faces?" he asked her, a grin on his face, as he punched the button for the ground floor. "They came running when they heard me shouting – it was priceless."

Taylor nodded, even though, in truth, the only face she had seen was Flack, and for some reason, she couldn't get the betrayed look out of her mind.


	54. Bunnies And Bodies

_Spoilers for 2x20: Run Silent, Run Deep_

_26/06/2006_

**Chapter 53: Bunnies And Bodies**

Two weeks had passed and July had turned into August, although the weather showed no signs of admitting that it would soon be cooling down. Instead, not only had it warmed up, but it had also become increasingly muggy, as though there was a permanent threat of a thunderstorm, despite the fact there was never a cloud in the sky. The sidewalks became greyer as the sun bleached it further, warming it up so much that even the homeless were finding it difficult to lie on it at night time.

Taylor had been busy writing, researching, and chasing after ghosts. She was still a month shy of her cast being able to come off, and the muggy weather was doing nothing in helping the itching. She had even gone out and bought a knitting needle especially so she could poke it under the plaster.

Things between her and Marty were good again, and she'd even got him to run with her. Truth be told, he insisted, which, although it was chivalrous, and she was grateful, completely baffled her. Marty hated running. He could have just insisted that she go to the gym with him instead, but no, he wanted to run.

He had also been particularly amused at the budding romance between her and Danny.

_It wasn't until three days later when Mac called them into his office, that Danny and Taylor realised just how far their little prank had gone. "Danny, Taylor, will you come into my office, please?" Mac asked them before retreating into his office. He'd spotted the two chatting down the hallway._

_Taylor and Danny looked at each other with a shrug before following his request._

_"Now," began Mac after the two had seated themselves. "I realise that I cannot dictate how the two of you rule your personal lives, and if you two wish to see each other then that's none of my business."_

_"But-" Danny tried to speak._

_"However," interrupted Mac. "It becomes my business when you bring it into the lab. I don't mind the odd kiss here and there, but having sex in a bathroom, the ladies bathroom," he added looking pointedly at Danny, "Is a big no."_

_"But M-" Taylor tried._

_"Now, if you two want to make like bunnies, that's perfectly understandable, and if you can't keep your hands off each other at work, then do it on your own time, and in a room with a lock, like the janitor's closet."_

_Taylor's mouth dropped open. She was too in shock to try and correct him, and judging from Danny's similar reaction, so was he._

_"Don't look at me like that," said Mac. "I was married once too. Only, whenever Claire came to visit, we had the sense to lock the door."_

_Taylor just gaped at him. Her brain actually couldn't tell her mouth to create words._

_"Mac!" exclaimed Danny, finally._

_"I don't want to hear it, Danny," Mac told him sternly, "I would have expected better from you. You've been here six years." Danny and Taylor rose to their feet and started to leave. "Now, I don't want to have this conversation with either of you again, alright?"_

_Taylor and Danny merely nodded, numbly, before bolting for the break room, where the two of them collapsed onto the couch and began laughing hysterically._

_"What's so funny?" asked Stella, as she appeared in the doorway, after being attracted by the laughter. "Or is this an inside couple's joke which I don't want to hear about?"_

_Danny laughed harder, whilst Taylor struggled to control herself. "No," she gasped, "That's just it. We're not a couple."_

_Stella looked between the two of them with a frown, "You two don't have to deny it, you know. The whole lab knows."_

_"No," this time it was Danny's turn to gasp. "It's not like that. Those DNA lab tech's – the trio of gossip queens – they saw me comforting Taylor the other day, and added two and two together to make six. So we played along."_

_"All Danny did was shout something about going on a date," nodded Taylor._

_"Yeah, I mean, Drew? Please!" Danny scoffed._

_"Face it Messer, I'm just too good for you," said Taylor as she gave him a swipe._

_"Too good for me?" laughed Danny. "You couldn't touch these lips if you wanted to."_

_"Wanna bet? she leant over and quickly kissed him, before laughing at his shocked face. She jumped to her feet. "Nope, I promise you there is nothing going on," she told Stella as she turned around._

_Marty, who she'd told the story to when she'd gotten back, found the latest edition to the story, downright hilarious._

She hadn't thought it possible, but she was spending even more time at the lab, as the number of ghosts visiting her had gone up from an average of two a week, to four. Combined with her column, which Alex had increased the word count, she was finding it difficult to do much else other than work.

Her hair, which originally fell just past her shoulders, was now halfway down her back, and in desperate need of a trim. Her nails, which were once neat and manicured weekly, were now short because she frequently broke them when 'observing' at crime scenes. All in all, she looked like she needed a holiday.

Currently, she was sat in at her usual computer – she was pretty much the only one that ever used it – and was writing the following day's column on road rage. She hadn't had a ghost visit her all day, and she was taking advantage of a quiet lab. Mac had gone out with Flack to investigate a confession he had received from a phone call. Something about an old murder, but Taylor hadn't been paying all that much attention. Lindsay and Sheldon had the night off, and Stella and Danny had gone to a dead body in a hotel room. Again, she hadn't asked any questions – it was just like tempting fate.

When the computer screen started making her eyes hurt because she had been staring at it too long, she decided that a break was in order. She hopped in the elevator and headed for the morgue, hoping to catch Marty before he left for the evening. As she walked into the morgue, she spotted Sid and Mac huddled around one of the gurneys, looking at a dead man. On the table behind them was one of the oldest looking skeletons she had ever seen.

"I need a microwave," Sid told Mac.

Taylor frowned at their backs – she dreaded to think what the two of them were going to cook, and considering it was in a morgue, she really didn't want to know.

She nipped in the office at the back room of the morgue to find Marty covered in blood splatter. "What on earth have you been doing?" she asked, then grimaced. "Actually, please do not tell me. I really don't want to know."

Marty grinned at her, "What are you doing down here? Have you had a visit?"

Taylor shook her head, "No, I just decided I needed to have a break from the computer. Plus, I left my glasses down here, and my contacts are beginning to irritate me."

"They're on my desk," Marty told her. "I'd get them myself, but," he held up his bloodied gloved hand.

Taylor winced. "No problem," she told him as she grabbed the glasses. She looked at the blood again, "I'll put these in upstairs and let you get washed up."

"Cheers, Tay. I'll see you back home later?"

"Yeah, although I'm not sure how late I'll be."

"Alright," Marty nodded. "Just make sure you don't walk home alone."

Taylor inwardly rolled her eyes, but agreed anyway. She left the room and was greeted by the stench of, well, it smelt like cooking flesh. She swallowed the rising bile and watched Sid and Mac peer into a microwave.

Unfortunately for Taylor, the microwave chose that moment to ping, and Sid took out a plate with, what looked like, a lump of steak on it. Being as she was actually in the morgue, Taylor had a pretty good idea what the 'steak' was.

"Tanglewood," said Sid, as he rubbed a cloth over the 'steak'. "Does that mean anything to you?"

Taylor froze – the bile also frozen in her stomach. The name certainly meant something to her. The question was, should she tell them, even though she had no right to know herself.

"The Tanglewood Boys," said Mac.

Taylor breathed an inward sigh of relief. She had just decided that going to the source would have been a better option, although it seemed like Mac already knew something. Not that that surprised her. Mac left quickly, without her being noticed, leaving her alone with Sid.

Sid turned, holding his plate, and spotted her. "Miss Turner, to what do I owe the privilege?"

Taylor took one last look at the pile of smouldering flesh, and bolted out of the morgue and to the bathroom. One thing was for certain, she realised, a she fished her head out of the toilet bowl, steak was being added to the _no longer eating_ list, under whale bacon, duck foetus, anything alive, and bacon. The list was slowly growing longer. Taylor let out a groan as she washed her face. Five months and she could still lose her stomach easily.

As she headed back to the computer, she spotted Mac and Danny talking over a photograph. From what Taylor could make out, Danny seemed to recognise the body, yet Mac didn't seem angry. Instead, he just looked like he was telling Danny to stay away from the case, and Danny was agreeing. Taylor grinned to herself – her lip reading skills were improving.

Danny and Mac parted ways, and Taylor noticed that Danny had spotted her staring. She grinned sheepishly at him, noting that he failed to return her smile, and headed back to the computer.


	55. Gossip Or Gospel

_Spoilers for 2x20: Run Silent, Run Deep_

_27/06/2006_

**Chapter 54: Gossip Or Gospel**

A few hours later, and it wasn't boredom which disturbed Taylor – it was Mac. "Taylor?"

Taylor turned around and pulled her glasses off (she'd taken her contacts out a while earlier), "Hey Mac."

"Have you got a minute?" he asked her.

Taylor frowned, "It depends on if it has anything to do with micro-waving human tissue, because I might just have to pass."

Mac frowned back at her, then realised what it was she was referring to. "No, it has nothing to do with that."

Taylor shrugged and followed him into the AV lab, where Adam was waiting for them. He gave her a surprised welcoming smile, and then turned to Mac. "FASTSCAN. It's state of the art in facial reconstruction," he told them both.

"Looks expensive," said Mac as he gave it the once over. "Did I sign a PO for this?"

"Yeah!" confirmed Adam quickly. "Remember, you said you wanted to be on the cutting edge of technology?"

Mac smiled at Adam's worry, "Right. Well, let's see if we got our money's worth."

Taylor watched in amazement as Mac held, what she could only describe as, a laser gun, at a skull, running the red horizontal beam of light up and down the bone structure. Slowly, the computer screen behind projected the skull as it was picked up, until, finally, the computer generated replica skull was complete. Adam hit a few buttons and the flesh and skin were added to the bone.

"John Doe," declared Adam, as the face spun around. "All we need is a name."

"Wow," breathed Taylor, "The fact that a computer can do that is incredible."

Mac nodded. "This is where you fit in, Taylor." Taylor looked at him expectantly. "Can you run a picture of this in the New York Daily – have it in tomorrow's edition?"

Taylor glanced at her watch, "If I get it over there now, it should just make print for the late edition."

"Just make sure they don't make a spectacle out of the headline," Mac told her.

Adam laughed sarcastically. "It's New York Daily…" he trailed off when he noticed the death glare Taylor was sending in his direction.

"Adam, I want you to see if you can find a match in missing persons," said Mac, before Taylor could make a comment. Adam took one look at Taylor and left quickly. Mac leant over and picked up the print out of the face before handing it over to Taylor.

"I'll head straight there," Taylor told him as started to leave.

"Hang on," Mac called after her. Taylor stopped and turned, waiting expectantly for a Mac to continue. "Take a Crime Lab SUV," he said, throwing some keys at her.

"What's this for?" Taylor asked as she caught the keys.

"It's getting dark and I don't want you walking anywhere by yourself, and I can't spare anyone to go with you at this point."

"I can grab a cab, Mac?" Taylor told him.

"Stop arguing, and take the car," he instructed her, his tone firm.

Taylor grinned, "You're not getting any arguments out of me."

. . .

Several hours later, Taylor had arrived back at the Crime Lab and was once again planted in front of a computer. She had managed to convince Alex to hold the evening edition by a full twenty minutes until she had arrived, something she considered as a small miracle. The ride over there, and back, had completely cemented Taylor's desire to own a car of some description.

Currently, Taylor had taken over from Adam's job and was trying to put a name to a face, while he had gone to carry on with the work he needed to do. So far, nothing, other than an ever-growing feeling of sadness as she flicked through the names and faces in front of her, over all the people that were missed by their families.

After coming up empty, she went to track down Mac and gave him the bad news. Part way to his office, however, Flack walked straight past, not noticing her, humming to himself, a huge grin on his face. She cocked her head and watched him head to the break room with an arched eyebrow.

"We were following a lead." Taylor turned to find Stella studying her. "The suspects were all dressed up in some of the most expensive underwear I've ever seen."

"Oh," said Taylor, "Well, I guess that explains his good mood then."

Stella smiled slyly at her. "He's single, so he has to take all the perks he can with this job, even if it is only lining women up so we can test for spray on panty-hose."

Taylor frowned. "You're telling me that even if he wasn't single, he wouldn't have that grin on his face."

"Oh, the grin would be there," Stella agreed. "But only because he'd know he was going back to his girlfriend so he could take _her_ underwear off."

"Stella, when was the last time you saw Frankie?" Taylor sighed.

Stella pulled a face, "About seven hours ago. I was called out from his bed. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to hand this evidence over for processing, so that I can get back to that bed."

Taylor watched with an amused smirk as Stella hurried away, before turning to continue on her quest to find Mac. She found him as he was about to enter his office, where a man was sat waiting for him, a paper in his hand. "Hey, Mac!" she called.

Mac paused and waited for her to dash over, "Thanks for getting the picture in. I wasn't expecting a full front-page spread."

Taylor grinned, "Turns out I actually have some power at the paper, but don't ask Alex to confirm it, as he'll only deny it. He's very territorial when it comes to who's boss. Actually, that's why I'm here. Adam had to run an analysis on… something. So I finished up on the missing person's search." She looked cautiously at Mac, unsure as to whether or not she was actually allowed to do that. Mac just nodded. "It came up empty."

Mac nodded again. "Don't worry about it, Taylor. I think your article may have worked. This gentleman here thinks he knows who the victim is."

"That was quick. The paper's still hot off the press." Taylor looked at the man again. He was staring at the paper looking very upset. She nodded at Mac and watched as he entered his office and seated himself opposite the man. Taylor turned and left, not wanting to disturb them.

She was on her way back to the computer room, for what felt like the hundredth time that day, when she spotted Lindsay and Danny talking on the gangway above her. Taylor smiled to herself – perhaps Danny was finally making a move. As she noticed the paper, and the serious expression on Lindsay's face, the smile was replaced with a frown.

She paused and watched as Danny took the paper off Lindsay, his expression changing from serious, to worried. Taylor frowned and watched him walk away. She stood there for a few moments, contemplating whether to follow or not, but decided against it, instead returning to her original destination.

. . .

"Have you heard?"

"No, what?"

Taylor perked her ears towards the excited chatter. She poked her head out of the door to find, unsurprisingly, that it belonged to the three gossipy lab techs.

"Danny Messer is being placed on modified duty."

Taylor's eyes widened.

"Yeah, the duty sergeant is there to relieve him. He's being stripped of his badge and gun."

"Is this to do with him and his involvement with the Tanglewood Boys?"

"I bet it is. I always knew he was a bad boy!"

Taylor stormed out of the room and over to the three women. "That's enough!" she barked at them. "You three are the most insufferable people to grace this lab." The three lab techs stared at her in fright. "All you three do is gossip. Do you honestly think that Mac Taylor would have hired Danny if he'd done what you three seem to claiming? In fact," Taylor ranted. "It's probably _because_ of you that he has the reputations that he does. Stop picking on the poor man. He doesn't deserve the lynching you're sending his way. Whatever's happened, you should wait for an announcement, and even if and when that happens, it's still none of your business to be talking about his personal life like he's a character on a soap." One of the techs started to try and say something, but Taylor cut her off. "Don't even bother! Now, stop standing around like the three old spinsters that you are, and go and do whatever the hell it is that you're paid to do!" Taylor waited, glaring at them, until they all started moving.

"Who died and made her boss?" one of the grumbled under her breath.

"She doesn't even work here," moaned another.

Taylor spun on her heel and marched over to Mac's office, where she joined Lindsay, Flack, Adam and Sheldon as they all stood, watching Danny hand over his gun and badge. She watched silently as Danny was led away and was about to turn to Flack, who she was stood next to, when Mac motioned for her to come in. She gave a shrug in response to the questioning look her four companions were giving her, and entered the office.

"Taylor, I know it's late, and you don't work here," Mac started, "But I need to ask you for another favour."

Taylor nodded, "Sure."

Mac sighed and sat down, indicating for her to do the same. "The skeleton we found was buried in the end zone of the Giant's stadium."

Taylor frowned. "Alright," she said slowly.

"In the same grave we found a gun and a cigarette butt. Lindsay ran the DNA off the cigarette butt. It was a match to Danny."

Taylor's eyes widened in surprise, "Danny couldn't have killed him!"

Mac shook his head. "No, and I don't think he could have either, however, that is the only evidence we have."

Taylor leapt to her feet. "Do you need me to process evidence, or go talk to the members of Tanglewood, or-"

"What do you know about the Tanglewood Boys?" Mac asked her sharply.

Taylor winced. "Their name came up in connection with the Brooklyn Bullets, but all I really know comes from office gossip," she finished sheepishly. "That and the fact I was there when Sid was," she grimaced. "Cooking skin."

Mac sighed. "No, Taylor, thank you for the offer, but I intend on putting Sonny Sassone away on this one, and letting you near the case would be like letting Danny near it."

Taylor nodded. "Alright, so, what do you want me to do?"

"Danny has been reassigned to modified desk duty. Basically, Taylor, stick him on the computer with you and watch him. In fact, if you can convince him to leave the lab for a while, do so, but just make sure you stay with him, and under no circumstances, allow him to go after Tanglewood on his own." Mac sighed, "I wouldn't ask, but I need everyone still."

Taylor nodded, determined to carry out Mac's wishes. "Mac, don't worry. I'll watch him."

"Stick to him like glue, Taylor."

"I can do better than that, Mac."

Mac looked up at her questioningly.

"I'll stick to him like an ex-wife after an alimony check."

Mac managed a small smile and watched the journalist leave the room.


	56. That's My Brother!

_Spoilers for 2x20: Run Silent, Run Deep_

_28/06/2006_

**Chapter 55: That's My Brother!**

Taylor was starting to worry. Danny was not sitting at a computer, like planned – not that she expected him to, really – but was pacing back and forth by the door, watching the rest of the lab working. With a sigh, Taylor turned the computer off. As the speakers blasted out the Windows closing down music, Danny turned and stared at her expectantly. "You and me," said Taylor. "We're going for coffee."

"I'm not thirsty," Danny told her hoarsely.

Taylor shrugged. "Well, I am, and I figure you owe me a cup. And not one of that dreadful stuff you CSIs seem to live off in the break room."

"I owe you some, do I?" he asked her, knowing instantly why she was doing it.

"Yup, for not saying anything to Lindsay." She walked over to him, clamped her hand over his and dragged him out of the door to the elevator. "Come on, let's go give those lab techs something real to gossip about." She closed her eyes and winced the second the words were out of her mouth.

Danny sighed, "I'm the topic of conversation around here, then." He wasn't asking.

Taylor dragged him into the elevator and hit the "G" button. "You always are, Danny," she told him, trying to make light of the situation. "Looking like that, I'm not surprised, either."

"Ah," smirked Danny, playing along, "So you do have a thing for me."

Taylor winked. "Well, I wouldn't say no."

"I knew it," said Danny, leaning smugly against the wall. "No woman can resist me."

"Actually," clarified Taylor. "They can resist you, if you don't tell them you like them."

"And," said Danny, darkly. "They would continue to resist me if I did." He knew exactly who 'they' was, and it wasn't more than one person. It was one specific one.

Taylor rolled her eyes at him, and, still clamped tightly to his hand, dragged him out of the elevator and into the ground level parking.

"What are we doing in the parking lot, Drew?"

Taylor dug her hands into her pocket and pulled out the car keys she had yet to hand back to Mac. "The keys to Mac's brand-spanking new Crime Lab SUV," she told him, using the keys to point to the brand new Avalanche at the back of the garage.

Danny whistled. "How did you managed to get them off Mac. He always told me that I wouldn't even be able to pry them from his cold, dead fingers."

Taylor grinned. "That's because he's been in a car with you."

Danny swiped at her. "My driving is not that bad!"

"Danny, when I get in a car with you, I never know if it's going to be Driving Miss Daisy, or The Fast And The Furious. You don't have a middle," she told him with a grin as she got in the driver's seat. "You know," she said, changing the subject as the pulled away, "I've never understood the guy who designed the Crime Lab. You have the morgue, underneath the parking lot, and the entrance on the second floor, instead of the first. Then you have a whole bunch of office in between."

Danny shrugged. "Seems to be working fine."

"I know," said Taylor. "Only, if it were me, I would have put the parking lot underground, the morgue on the second floor – give it some windows, because lord knows it's already depressing enough, and stuck the entrance on the first floor."

"You have too much time on your hand," Danny groaned. "Seriously, Taylor, you need a hobby or a boyfriend - the schematics of the crime lab?" Taylor grinned and stuck her tongue out at him, before reaching for the radio, quickly replacing the jazz station for a country music station. "And what free time you do have, you seem to be spending too much of it with Lindsay," he muttered as Trace Atkins came blasting out. But he didn't try to change it.

"Nah, already liked it," she told him.

. . .

Taylor had driven them to the most obscure little coffee shop on the island, which, considering its location, and the time of night, Danny was convinced should have been closed, and if not there was a very good chance that the reason it was still open was because of the illegal wrong doings that were taking place inside.

He was actually pleasantly surprised to find he was very much mistaken. The place was admittedly overrun with students, but there was a free table at the back, and the light chatter was actually a welcome relief.

"So, Messer, I'll have a hot chocolate, please."

Danny scowled, "I'm not so sure about this owing you a drink, lark."

"Deal with it, Danny. My throat is parched," Taylor told him with a grin. "Chop chop."

Danny swiped at her but disappeared to the counter, returning a few minutes later with a hot chocolate and black coffee. "How did you find this place, then?"

Taylor shrugged. "It's a few blocks away from the library. I ended up living here whilst I was studying for my finals."

"I thought you went to NYU?"

"Oh, I did," Taylor nodded. But the library here is much better, and being off campus meant that I was less likely to find a story."

Danny smirked, "I bet you found one anyway."

Taylor laughed. "Sure did. I saw someone get stabbed and nobody did anything to help, other than me. I wrote an article complaining about the crime in the city, and how it wasn't going to get any better if people didn't stop to help. Got me an internship at the Daily, and well, here I am nearly six years later."

"You always want to be a journalist?"

Taylor nodded, "I created my first paper at the grand old age of five. Interviewed all my teddy bears for an exclusive on…" she trailed off.

"On?" Danny pressed.

"A missing chocolate bar," said Taylor, quietly. She sighed. "Did you always want to be a criminalist?"

Danny shook his head. "Wanted to play professional baseball."

"Don't most kids?" Taylor laughed.

"Yeah, but I was good. Would have gone professional, if my batting arm hadn't have been destroyed."

Taylor frowned as a fragment of a memory made it into the present. "You've mentioned something about this before, haven't you? What happened?"

"I was jumped," he told her, shortly, his tone of voice telling her to drop it.

Taylor frowned, tempted as a journalist to press, but didn't. She glanced down at her cast and changed the subject. "I'm going to buy a car."

"You? A car?"

Taylor shot him a glare, "Yeah, actually. I happened to know something about them. I want a Mustang. A brand new blue one."

Danny pulled a face. "If you're going to get a Mustang, you have to get a classic."

"Nope," Taylor told him, shaking her head. "I want something that is going to survive when I drive it across the country back to California."

"You're going back to California?" Danny asked. This was news to him.

"Eventually, but not permanently," Taylor assured him. "I promised myself I would drive across the country, and the finishing spot would be home to visit my mother, because lord knows she calls on a regular basis to complain that I haven't been back since I graduated college."

Danny laughed, "Why not?"

"My mother is one of those women who think that college for women is the time for them to find a husband. In her eyes, I am a disappointment that I'm still single. Having said that," she sighed. "At least I'm not in prison."

"Something you want to tell me, Drew?" Danny asked, his eyebrows arched.

Taylor sighed again. "It's not what you think," she started. She was about to continue when Danny's cell phone rang.

"Hold that thought," he told her, flipping the phone open. "Yeah… that's me… Louie?" All the colour dropped from his face. "No, I'll be right there." He was on his feet before he had hung up, sending the half finished mugs of hot liquid flying, namely over Taylor.

She jumped to her feet, ignoring the liquid which had seeped through her clothing and tore after Danny. "Danny," she cried, grabbing his arm and turning him to her. His eyes had gone red, and there were already tears forming. "What's the matter? Has Mac-"

Danny shook his head, furiously wiping the tears away. "It's Louie," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "He's been beat up. He's at Mercy."

"Come on then!" cried Taylor, surprising Danny as she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the SUV.

"Taylor, what are you doing?" he demanded, although he allowed himself to be swept along by her.

"I'm going to the hospital," she told him.

"You don't have to do that," Danny choked.

"True, but I'd be a pretty lousy friend if I didn't," she said. "Besides, I've always wanted to drive one of these things with the lights and sirens going."

Danny managed a weak grin of thanks as he leant over and switched them on.

. . .

They pulled up as Louie was being unloaded on a stretcher. Danny was out of the car before Taylor had even stopped and was trying to fight his way through the paramedics, doctors and nurses. "He's my brother. He's my brother!" Danny shouted as he tried to get to the stretcher. Taylor leapt out of the car, abandoning it where it had come to a stop, straight on Danny's tail. "Louie, can you hear me? Louie! Louie?"

Both she, a paramedic, and a police officer were on him, trying to pull him away. Danny swung his arm back, trying to get free, but only resulted in smacking Taylor in the face. Taylor grunted and grabbed the arm.

"Listen, who did this to you? Who did this to you? Don't you die on me Louie!" he shouted as Louie was wheeled inside. "Not now! LOUIE!""

"DANNY!" Taylor yelled.

Danny stopped struggling and slumped back, sobbing. He turned around and flung his arms around Taylor, nearly making her fly backwards herself. Taylor wrapped her arms tightly around him and allowed him to cry into her hair as she rubbed his back.

. . .

Danny was standing, fixed, in front of the doors to surgery, watching the doctors work on his brother, intently. Taylor was sat to one side, watching him, an ice pack placed firmly on her left eye and cheek. Sat next to her on one side of her was Doc. He had been one of the paramedics, along with Carlos, who had been called to the scene to pick Louie up. Sat on the other side was Officer Davis. Taylor only knew of him – he lived with Carlos, but they'd never met until now.

"Are you alright?" Doc asked her, peeling the pack away to examine the forming bruise.

Taylor nodded, "I'll be fine, but will Louie?"

Doc sighed, "He took a pretty bad beating. There's so much internal bleeding, I wouldn't want to say."

Taylor bit her lip, "What are his chances, Doc?" she asked him, quietly.

Doc glanced over at Danny, before turning his attention back to Taylor. "In all honesty, pretty slim."

Taylor nodded, glumly.

"Do you need me to call anyone?" Davis asked her.

"Um, Detective Mac Taylor. He's Danny's supervisor – a CSI," she frowned, "If you can't get through to him, I guess, Detective Flack in homicide."

Davis nodded, "I've worked with them both before, I know who they are."

"Oh no!" moaned Taylor suddenly, getting to her feet.

"What's the matter?" Doc asked her.

"The SUV! I left it in the middle of the ambulance bay with the keys still in it. Mac is going to kill me."

Davis pushed her back down. "Don't worry," he told her. "My partner spotted it and is parking it up for you." Taylor let out a relieved sigh. "But what about you?" Taylor looked up in confusion. "You've given us names of people to call for Detective Messer, but none for yourself."

Taylor shook her head, "I'm fine. They're my friends too. But I should call Marty, before he panics. Will you keep an eye on Danny, please?" she asked Doc. He nodded, and she followed Davis out to use the phone.


	57. Another Coffee?

_Spoilers for 2x20: Run Silent, Run Deep_

_29/06/2006_

**Chapter 56: Another Coffee?**

Taylor returned from the phone call quickly, after collecting the car keys from Officer Sullivan. Marty had been in bed, but had forgiven her instantly for waking him up. She told him what had happened and he said he was going to join her, until she told him that they were fine and he should get some sleep. Marty had agreed, but made her promise to call if she, or Danny, needed anything. Danny was still at the surgery doors when she returned.

"I'm sorry, Taylor," apologised Doc, who had been joined by Carlos. "But we have another call."

"Don't worry," she told them, "I'm sure Mac will be here soon, and I'm fine, anyway."

Doc nodded. "Just keep that ice on your face for a while. It should help with the bruising."

Taylor agreed and watched the two paramedics leave. She sank back into the chair and watched Danny, who was still rooted to the spot, ready to jump up if she needed to. She didn't, and forty minutes later, when Mac arrived with Flack and Lindsay, he was still stood in the same place.

Taylor, who was sat in front of the door, was spotted before Danny, and Mac walked straight over to her. "Taylor? What happened?" he asked, indicating to her eye. Taylor shrugged and nodded towards Danny with her head. Mac turned to Danny, "Danny. Any word?"

Danny turned to his supervisor and let out a long breath. "I don't know. He's still in surgery."

"Are you okay?" Lindsay asked him.

Danny let out a wry laugh, "Yeah, yeah. I've had better days to tell you the truth."

"That's a tough kid that got brought in, alright Danny," said Flack. "He's gonna make it."

Danny nodded gratefully at his friend.

Mac glanced at Danny before turning to Lindsay, "Lindsay, you get Louie Messer's personal effects and get them back to the lab."

"Yeah," agreed Lindsay. She gave Danny a small smile and squeezed his arm before leaving to find a nurse.

Mac turned his attention to Flack, "You stay here with Danny."

Taylor stood up. "Mac, if you need Flack to help get the guys who did this, I don't mind staying here, all night if I have to," she frowned. "I'm staying anyway."

Mac nodded. "Thank you Taylor, but this is one of those situations where I want Flack here too." He turned back to Flack. "Make sure this doesn't escalate. I don't want the Tanglewood Boys seeking him out, or him seeking them out. You're responsible."

Taylor suddenly realised why Mac wanted Flack there.

"Yeah, we're not going anywhere," Flack promised him. "Trust me."

Mac nodded, said goodbye and left, leaving the three of them standing outside the surgery.

Danny walked over and stared at Taylor as if noticing her for the first time, "What happened to your face?" Taylor dropped her gaze to the floor, not answering. "Did I do that?" Danny asked, his voice filled with guilt.

"Yeah," Taylor admitted.

"I guess I actually owe you a coffee now?"

Taylor looked up at him. He was grinning weakly. "You owe me more than just a coffee, Messer."

"Good point. You look like Flack now."

"Hey!" Flack objected. "Looking like me is not a bad thing."

Danny grinned. "Yeah it is, when you're a woman."

Taylor laughed. "To be fair, Danny, his black eye has just about gone."

"True," Danny admitted. "But his cut is still there, as is yours. And don't you both have matching scars on your arms?" Taylor and Flack both rolled their eyes at him, making Danny laugh. Taylor gave him a small push before holding her hand out. Danny looked blankly at it. "What?"

"Time to cough up on that cash. I'm going to get us some coffee."

Flack laughed as Danny pulled some change out of his pocket and dumped it, grumbling, on Taylor's outstretched hand.

. . .

When she got back, three hot drinks in her hands, Flack had managed to convince Danny to step away from the doorway, and had seated the two of them in the chairs Taylor had been sat in. Taylor sat down and handed the two their drinks.

"Thanks for the drink, Messer," smiled Flack.

Taylor gave Danny's arm a squeeze. "Next one is on me."

Danny looked up at her and gave her a weak grin, "I think you owe me more than just a coffee now, Drew."

"I dread to think what is currently going around that mind of yours," Taylor muttered.

Flack cleared his throat. "Look, do you want me to step outside for a moment?" Danny and Taylor looked blankly at him. "You know," he added. "Give you both some space?"

Danny turned to look at Taylor – a fatal mistake as the two started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Flack asked, huffily. Instead of waiting for an answer he got to his feet. "I'm going to make a phone call - don't go anywhere." He left the two quickly before they had chance to calm down and explain.

Danny laughed. "He's jealous."

Taylor stared blankly at him. "Of what? Not being able to buy the coffee?"

Danny smirked, "Something like that. He thinks we're dating."

Taylor narrowed her eyes. "Did you not clear that one up?"

"No," admitted Danny. "But I shouldn't have to. Sorry, but I have never given any indication that I wanted to date you."

"And why wouldn't you want to date me?" Taylor tried to pout, but still laughing, failed miserably and looked more like she was constipated, which made Danny start laughing again.

"With a mug like that, it's hard to resist," Danny laughed. "But you're not my type."

"Oh yeah," smirked Taylor. "You prefer the _country_ girl from the west, not the _city_ girl from the west."

Danny mock glared at her, "I'm pleading the fifth!"

Flack reappeared and looked like he was about to say something, but stopped when he noticed a doctor walking over to them, a very sombre expression etched on his face. "Mr Messer?"

The laughter evaporated in an instant as Danny leapt to his feet, a fearful look in his eyes. "Is Louie… is Louie alright?" he asked, his voice breaking.

The doctor sighed. "Louie has suffered from massive internal beating, and he took a few good hits to the head. He has some serious swelling in his brain, but at the moment, he's too unstable to operate on." Danny let out a sob and dropped to his seat.

"How long until you can operate?" Taylor asked.

The doctor shook his head. "In all honesty, that depends on Louie. We won't do anything until he stabilizes. It's too risky."

"Can we go in and see him?" Taylor asked, hopeful.

"In a while. The nurses are dressing him and cleaning him up. They'll show you to his room when they're ready. But he is in a coma."

"Will he wake up?" Danny whispered.

"I don't know, I'm sorry. We're going to run some tests in the morning." His pager started beeping, "I'm sorry, that's the ER."

"Thank you, doctor," said Flack before the man disappeared.

Danny watched him go, and then turned sharply to Taylor, "I want to see him," he demanded.

Taylor blinked, "The doctor said-"

"I know what the doctor said, Taylor, but I don't want to talk to his body, I want to talk to him," Danny repeated.

Taylor's mouth dropped open as she struggled for something to say.

"Danny," Flack started in a low voice.

"No, Flack. She sees ghosts and now I want her to show me Louie."

"Danny, Louie's not dead," Taylor pointed out quietly.

"The doctor just admitted he's as good as a vegetable," Danny said coldly, walking towards Taylor until she was trapped between him and a wall.

"Danny, Louie's not dead! And he didn't say he was a vegetable. They're just going to have to wait to do some tests," she repeated. "And you can't ask me something like that. I have no power over who comes to see me, and I certainly have no power over the living."

Flack grabbed Danny's shoulders and pulled him away, sending Taylor an apologetic look.

Taylor sighed and wrapped her arms around Danny. She could feel him tense up, so she hugged him harder, until he relaxed. "I don't get it," said Danny in a strangled voice. "Why?"

Taylor looked helplessly at Flack. Flack placed his hand on Danny's shoulder. "The only one who can tell you that is Louie."

"And me."

All three of them turned and found Lindsay a few feet from them, looking like she was arguing with herself over something.

Danny shrugged Taylor off him and walked over to her. "What do you mean, Monroe?"

"I… uh, there was a tape."

Taylor bit her lip and turned to Flack, "I don't know about you, but I fancy a coffee. Care to join me?"

Flack looked down at the three, still full and still steaming cups of coffee on the floor and nodded. "Sounds good." The two of them started to leave, but Flack grabbed Lindsay's shoulder before they did. "Don't let him out of your sight until we get back," he told her in a low voice so that only she and Taylor heard it. Lindsay nodded and gave a small smile before Flack and Taylor left.

. . .

The hospital cafeteria was empty, apart from two nurses who were busy chatting about 'the cutest baby,' they had helped deliver, so finding an empty table wasn't a problem. Taylor chose one by a window, while Flack went for the drinks. He walked over carrying two polystyrene cups and a chocolate chip cookie, settling it, and a cup, in front of Taylor.

Taylor took a sip and frowned. "Chocolaty coffee?"

Flack nodded sheepishly. "You said you preferred hot chocolate to coffee, but drank coffee when you needed to stay awake, and given that it's 4am, I figured you'd appreciate the best of both worlds." Taylor stared at him. "What?"he squirmed. "I can take it back if you want?"

Taylor shook her head. "No, that's… perfect," she told him. She frowned, "I told you that?"

"Not in so many words, but yeah."

"When?" Taylor asked, puzzled.

"The day after you got attacked – I brought three drinks into your room." Taylor continued to stare at him. "What?" he repeated, feeling more uncomfortable.

Taylor looked down at the cup. "Nothing, I'm just surprised you remembered."

Flack gave her a small smile. "I'm a detective. I'm supposed to remember the small details."

Taylor returned the smile. "Thanks."

Flack frowned, choosing to stare at his coffee, rather than making a comment, allowing a silence to fall over them. Suddenly, Flack's cell phone started ringing. "Flack… uh huh… no, Lindsay's with him – something about a tape… that's great news. We'll tell him as soon as we see him. Bye Mac." Taylor looked expectantly at him. "That was Mac."

"I guessed," Taylor smiled. "And you're smiling, which mean's its good news."

Flack nodded, "Danny's in the clear. That tape that Lindsay has is a confession from Sassone for the murder."

Taylor grinned and leant back, breathing out a large breath. "That's great."

Flack grinned back and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I think we should give Danny and Lindsay a little while longer, and then head back."

Taylor nodded, and took a piece of the cookie. "What's going to happen to Louie?" Taylor asked a while later, the quietness driving her mad.

"I don't know. You heard what the doctor-"

"No," interrupted Taylor, shaking her head. "That's not what I meant. When he wakes up, I mean."

Flack frowned, thoughtfully. "Well, I suspect there will be some therapy of some kind."

"No," Taylor shook her head again. "He was beat up and... Look, I don't know what happened, or what was on that tape, but what I am beginning to realise is that Louie knew something, and the only way he could know something is if he was there, right? Won't that make him an accessory, or something?"

Flack swore, "I hadn't thought of that. You're right. He's looking at a jail sentence."

Taylor frowned. "Maybe we shouldn't mention that to Danny. Not until Louie's in the clear, anyway."

"Yeah," agreed Flack. "We should get back to him."


	58. Paws

_Spoilers for 2x20: Run Silent, Run Deep_

_30/06/2006_

**Chapter 57: Paws**

"Louie, hey, it's me – Danny. I just talked to Dad. He's coming down here with Mommy. Doctor says you're in a coma, and that you might not make it out of here. Listen to me. I heard you on the tape. That night, you got me out of there on purpose. I never knew that. You couldn't have just pulled me aside and told me you were putting on a front? You had to keep that up all these years? You can call it tough love if you want, but I was young, man. And that hurt me in the heart. Let me tell you now that I forgive you because now I understand why you did what you did. And I just wanted to say, thanks for that. And I love you. You hear me? Louie?"

Taylor and Flack were stood at the door, watching Danny talk to his brother. They couldn't actually hear anything through the closed door, but Taylor was pretty certain that was what was being said. She managed to get the gist of it through lip reading, and what she couldn't, she'd filled in the blanks herself.

Lindsay had gone home, and shortly after Flack and Taylor had given Danny the good news. It wasn't until Mac had arrived, and Taylor had happened to catch Danny break down on him, that Danny found out that the only reason he was in the clear was because of Louie. So he had gone straight up to see him.

"You know, Tanglewood has been shut down, Flack. You don't need to be here any longer, if you need to go," Taylor muttered to Flack, never taking her eyes off Danny.

Flack looked down at her, "It's not just Danny who needs some company."

Taylor smiled at him, "Come on." Flack frowned, but instead of explaining, Taylor just grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the door to Louie's room. "Hey, Danny," Taylor called softly. "You want some company?"

Danny looked over and nodded, pointing at two seats on the other side of the bed. Taylor and Flack headed over to them and seated themselves.

"How are you holding up?" Flack asked him.

Danny shrugged. "I'm alright, I guess. The nurses came in and took his vitals. He's doing better. They seem to think that he should make it."

"That's brilliant news," said Taylor with a smile.

Danny sighed. "He's going to make it. I know it."

"You don't seem as overjoyed as I'd expect at that," observed Flack.

Danny sniffed. "Well, he'll get better, and then he'll get sent down, and then things will go back to how they were, and then, in the meantime, I'll have to do all the explaining to Mom and Dad."

Taylor and Flack looked at each other. "Let's not jump to any conclusions until he's awake," said Flack, uncomfortably.

"It's not jumping to conclusions," said Danny bitterly. "It's accepting reality. He spent fifteen years letting me believe that he didn't like me anymore."

Taylor watched Danny fight back the tears and sighed. "He did it because he loved you."

"What would you know?" Danny asked her bitterly.

"More than you'd expect," Taylor admitted, looking down at her hands. She could feel both Danny and Flack's eyes on her. "I had… have a brother."

"You had, or you have?" Danny asked her.

"I have one. Only, he's temporarily dead," Taylor clarified, rolling her eyes.

"How can someone be temporarily dead?" Flack scoffed.

"When they choose to be," Taylor shot at him.

"I don't understand," said Danny.

Taylor sighed, "Christopher is four and a half years older than me, and I idolized him. He took after Daddy – he was very patriotic - and joined the Navy," she smiled. "We called him Paws."

"Paws?" Danny questioned.

"Yeah, Christopher Antoine Turner – C.A.T," Taylor explained.

Flack smirked. "You two must have loved your parents for their choice of names."

Taylor nodded, "It caused a few disagreements at times," she frowned. "Have you ever seen Con Air? It's a similar story?"

"Your brother hijacked a plane?" asked Flack in disbelief.

"No!" exclaimed Taylor. She rolled her eyes. "He wasn't a Ranger, like Nicholas Cage's character, he was a Diver. He returned home from active duty and ended up in a bar fight, defending his girlfriend, and killed someone. He pleaded guilty to manslaughter. He's coming up for seven years in January."

"So how is he temporarily dead?" Danny asked softly.

"Mama got very depressed when he was arrested and as good as disowned him. Daddy was only a Lieutenant-Commander then, but he tried to pull some strings. It didn't work, and the judge decided to make an example of him. He got 7-10 with no chance of early parole. Mama refused to go to court, and I… when I said goodbye, he told me he didn't want to see me anywhere near his prison. I didn't think he was serious, but when I tried to visit him, he refused to see me, and sent me a letter telling me I may as well accept the fact that he was as good as dead, until he got out. That I deserved a better brother."

"Didn't you write back to him?" Flack frowned at her.

"Of course I did," Taylor snapped. "And he's returned every letter I've ever written, unopened."

"I'm sorry," said Danny, gently.

Taylor sighed. "Don't be mad at your brother. He did what he did because he was trying to protect you, and yeah, he did it in a crazy way, but at least he cares."

"Your brother cares for you," Danny told her.

Taylor nodded, "I know. It just took me a while to realise that.

The door opened behind them, and with an anguished sob, a woman dashed in and to the bed, throwing herself over Danny. "Hi Mommy," he said, hugging her back.

Taylor and Flack got to their feet. "We'll come back later, Danny," said Flack. "I've got a mountain of paperwork waiting for me."

Danny's mom peeled herself of Danny. "Are these your friends, Danny?"

Danny nodded, "That's Flack, remember?"

Mrs Messer suddenly recognised the detective standing awkwardly in front of her, "Donny! You've had your hair cut since I last saw you."

"Hi, Mrs Messer," he smiled, uncomfortably.

"And is this your girlfriend?" she asked him, referring to Taylor.

"I'm Taylor Turner, and I'm not seeing Flack. I just loiter around the Crime Lab too much," said Taylor, offering her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs Messer, although I'm sorry it couldn't be under better circumstances."

Mrs Messer ignored the hand, instead giving Taylor a hug, "So you're the girl from Montana that Danny is always talking about whenever I talk to him."

Taylor bit back a laugh as she saw Danny cringe from over Mrs Messer's shoulder. "No, ma'am, I'm from California originally."

Mrs Messer pulled away, "I'm sorry, dear. Daniel has yet to introduce me to his girlfriend, although I hear "Montana this" and "Montana that"-"

"Mom!" Danny exclaimed, "Lindsay is not my girlfriend. She's just a colleague."

"That's what you kept saying about Aiden."

"I wasn't seeing Aiden, either!" Danny exclaimed.

"That's a shame because I always thought you two would make a good couple." Taylor turned and found Danny's dad watching the exchange from the doorway. Louie was a spitting image of his dad, whereas Danny definitely took after his mom.

"I've just spoken to the doctor," said Mr Messer, changing the subject. "They want to come in and run some tests in a while."

"I think that that's our cue to leave," said Flack.

"No, don't leave on our account," said Mrs Messer.

"It's alright," said Taylor, "I have a column to write anyway."

"Taylor Turner?" asked Mr Messer. "The crime columnist?" Taylor nodded. "Good work you do."

Taylor smiled shyly. "Thank you. We'll call back later," she told Danny. "Just give me a call if you need anything." Danny nodded and Taylor and Flack said their goodbyes, before leaving.

"Do you need a ride?" Flack asked her as they headed out of the hospital.

"No, thank you, I have a car," Taylor informed him.

"Since when?" Flack asked in disbelief.

Taylor shrugged. "It's Mac's Crime Lab truck. I need to drop it back off at the lab."

Flack's eyes widened. "Mac trusted you with that?"

Taylor grinned. "Yeah," she told him before heading over to the parking lot to see if she could find where it had been parked.

"Hey, Drew," Flack called after her. Taylor stopped and turned. "I'm sorry about your brother."

Taylor shrugged. "Thanks, but, I'm fine. I'll have him back soon."

"Hey, Taylor," Flack called, stopping her once again. "If you ever need a chocolaty coffee again, or just some company… give me a call."

Taylor smiled at him. "Thanks, I will."


	59. Wishful Thinking

_01/07/2006_

**Chapter 58: Wishful Thinking**

Flack glanced around the park. He'd finally gotten his head out of his ass and called her, and then spent the entire day planning this. His eyes fell on a familiar figure that was leaning against the railings of the bridge. She turned and spotted him and waved.

She was dressed in the little red number, the first dress she had worn to the Crime Lab after a failed date. Spaghetti straps, a plunging neckline, and a skirt short enough that it showed off those long legs of hers. It was the dress which drove Flack crazy. Whoever had come up with that thing about women in little black dresses had clearly never seen Taylor in red. It certainly sent Flack's pulse racing, especially when it was accompanied by that infectious smile and her long dark hair in soft curls.

That was something else which drove Flack crazy – curly hair. And he couldn't, for the life of him, understand why she insisted on straightening it. Not that she didn't look good with her hair straight, but Flack definitely had a weakness for the curls.

Resisting the urge to rip the dress off her, right there in the middle of Central Park, he compensated by giving her a solitary red rose. A little clichéd, one might say, but effective enough. She took it from him, a shy smile on her face. "Thank you," she said, sniffing at it.

Flack chucked as she sneezed. Somehow, she was making allergies cute. _Did he just use the word cute?_ He shook his head and pulled out a handkerchief which she gratefully accepted, blushing profusely – something else which he was finding exceedingly cute. _Did he just use the word cute, again?_

This time Flack actually laughed. Taylor looked up at him with her eyes big and wide, verging on hurt, and he instantly regretted it. He reached down for her free hand and grasped it in his own. It was small, cool, and smooth, fitting perfectly into his own. "I have a surprise," he told her.

Taylor looked curiously up at him, but knew better than to ask. Instead, she smiled and allowed him to lead her under the trees, the leaves of golds and reds falling down softly around them.

A long stroll later and they were outside his apartment building. Still curious as to where Flack was going with this, she turned expectantly to him, but he just smiled coyly and held the door open for her. He led her to the elevator, and while waiting for it come down from the floor it was on, he pulled off his tie, wrapping it around Taylor's eyes and tying it firmly, but gently, behind her head.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"Trust me," he whispered, his mouth mere millimetres from her ear. He could feel the shiver of excitement run down her spine, and again he had to refrain from removing the dress. His resolve was saved by the elevator pinging open.

The journey to the top floor seemed to take a hundred times longer than it normally did. So much so, he was tempted to hit that emergency stop button. But again his resolve was saved by the doors pinging open for a second time. He led her to a door and pushed it open before stepping behind her and taking one hand in each of his.

As the wind blew down the stairway from the rooftop behind, Taylor turned her head, "Flack?" she whimpered.

His mouth was next to her ear again, "I told you, trust me."

Taylor bit her lip and nodded, allowing him to lead her up the stairs and onto the rooftop. He took a few more steps out and then stopped. "Shut your eyes."

Taylor nodded and he carefully removed the tie. He took one step to the side and the told her to open her eyes. Taylor let her eyes fly open and gasped. Flack had spent the best part of the day tidying this area of the roof up, dragged a sofa up, with a little help from a neighbour – Danny had suddenly developed a bad case of vertigo – and set it up so that it was facing the now setting sun. He'd covered the faded fabric with a throw and added a few cushions.

Just off to one side were a table and two chairs – a tablecloth, candle (which had blown itself out), two wine glasses, and a bottle of bubbly in an ice bucket. Up against the wall was a mini fridge humming away gently, and a portable stereo perched on top. Flack quickly darted over and hit play and the creamy sound of Blue's _Best of Me_ came pouring out.

Taylor laughed at his cheesy taste in music. She was pretty certain it wasn't his normal choice, which made her appreciate it even more.

He hurried back over and settled her down on the couch before turning his attention to the champagne and pouring them both a glass.

"Flack, this is… this is… why did you go to all this trouble?"

Flack settled his glass on the floor. "Taylor, aren't we past surnames yet?"

Taylor blushed, "I… yeah, I just… it's habit. Everyone calls you that."

"Well, you're not everyone." He took the glass back out of her hands and settled it beside his own, and then returned his attention to Taylor. He gently scraped the hair out of her face and leant over and kissed her.

It was a much different kiss to the ones they had shared previously – for one, they were sober. For another, it was the most honest and needed kiss that either of them had experienced.

Taylor leant back and pulled away. Flack did the same, worried he had overstepped the line. Instead he found Taylor smiling at him. "What?" he asked her, cocking his head.

"You taste good," she told him, before she pulled his lips back to hers.

A few hours later and not only had the champagne gone flat and warm, the ice cream in the fridge melted, and one of the glasses had been knocked over, but the sky had gone dark and they had missed the sunset. Not that either were complaining, wrapped up in the throw with each other.

Flack shifted and pulled Taylor closer to him, pressing his bare chest against her back as he wrapped the arm which wasn't propping his head up, around Taylor's waist and interlocking his fingers with hers. He leant over and began kissing her neck.

Taylor let out a tired, yet satisfied moan, "I don't think I ever want to move from this spot."

Flack just smiled contentedly and continued kissing her. Until he was disturbed from his task by his cell phone ringing.

"Do you have to answer that?" Taylor groaned.

"Sorry," apologised Flack as he reached for it. "I'll get rid of them." He flipped his phone open, Hey, can I call you back? I'm right in the middle of spending some much needed time with my girlfriend!" he said, not caring who it was, or why they were ringing.

"_Oh my God Flack, I am so sorry._"

"Taylor?" That didn't make sense. How could she be in his arms, and yet on the phone at the same time?

Flack suddenly bolted upright in bed, realizing with a start what had happened, "No, Taylor, it's alright."

"No, I'm sorry. It's late," Taylor let out an embarrassed groan, "I am so sorry, Flack. I shouldn't have called."

"No, really Taylor. You wouldn't have called if it wasn't important." Mentally, he was slamming his head against a wall. How was he going to get out of this one?

"Flack, I have just disturbed you with someone. It can wait."

Yeah, except that someone was you. "No, seriously Taylor, what's the matter?"

"Oh, well… um… it's just that Danny called. Louie woke up. I was going to see if you wanted to come to the hospital with me, but it really doesn't matter." He could almost feel the heat off her face radiating down the phone. "Oh God, I am so sorry."

"It's fine, Taylor. I'll pick you up in half an hour. I need to get a shower."

"Flack, you can't do that." She honestly sounded horrified.

Flack sighed. "It's alright, she's gone now anyway." Well, it was nearly true. "I'll give you a ring when I'm outside."

He hung up the phone, dropped it on the bed and threw his face into the covers. How the hell was he going to get out of this one? He groaned. One thing was for certain. He was going to have to have a shower before he did anything. A cold shower.

. . .

Taylor was already stood waiting outside her building when he pulled up, looking, as he imagined, just as embarrassed as she had sounded on the phone.

She couldn't even look at him when she got in the car. As far as Taylor was concerned, she had interrupted him when he was getting very personal with a lady friend, and she was still mortified. She was about to launch into a tirade of apologies but he stopped her before she could open her mouth.

"Don't apologise," he told her, firmly. "I was only sleeping, and in all fairness, if I didn't want to be disturbed, I would have turned my phone off."

Taylor's complexion was still flushed. "I didn't even know you had a girlfriend, Flack. I really am sorry."

"She's not my girlfriend," he told her quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly. "No, I didn't mean that," he groaned after one look at Taylor's startled face.

Taylor shook her head, "I'm not going to judge, Flack. How you spend your personal time is your business."

Flack wanted to bang his head repeatedly against the steering wheel. He figured the best course of action would be just to remain silent until he could persuade his brain to come up with something to get him out of this incredibly deep hole he was digging himself.

Taylor was thankful for the silence. Despite what Flack said, she couldn't shake the embarrassment. It wasn't until they pulled into the hospital parking lot and she noticed Flack staring intently at the back of the head of a woman climbing into a car that she spoke, breaking the silence. "Somebody you know?"

Flack frowned, "I'm not sure."

He parked up and the two of them headed up to Louie's room, where Danny was sitting by his bed, a broad grin across his face, a sleeping Louie next to him.

Flack made his way to the chairs opposite, whilst Taylor went straight over to Danny and gave him a hug. "When did he wake up?" Taylor asked him quietly, so as not to disturb the sleeping Messer.

Flack sighed. Why was he so bothered about Taylor thinking he had a girlfriend when she was seeing Messer anyway?

"Not long before I called you." He laughed. "Thirty four days in a coma, and he goes straight back to sleep."

"Hey, Messer?"

"Wassup, Flack?" Danny asked him cheerfully.

"Did I see Aiden walk outta here?"

Danny nodded. "Yeah, she's been a few times over the last month. Mom called her and she turned up, complete with a pizza with extra pepperoni. Says she's going to arrange it so we meet up and she's gonna cook, when we both have a free night."

Taylor looked at the grin on his face – whoever this Aiden was, she was certainly a good friend, although, if she remembered correctly, when Mrs Messer had mentioned her, Danny had denied dating her. Not that it was important.

"Have you called Lindsay?" Flack asked him.

Danny shook his head, "She's at work. And she doesn't need to be brought further into the mess which is my life."

Taylor sighed. "There are some things you have no choice over, and I'm sorry to tell you this, Messer, but I think it's already too late," Taylor told him.

Danny just looked at her and sighed.

Flack looked between the two of them wondering what exactly the two were talking about, and then wondering what it was that had possessed him to bring up both Aiden and Lindsay in as many minutes. He frowned. Come to think of it, why wasn't it producing the reaction he desired. He sighed again. It seemed Taylor was a very understanding girlfriend.


	60. The Other Messer

_Spoilers for 2x16: Cool Hunter_

_02/07/2006_

**Chapter 59: The Other Messer**

Taylor watched as Flack made his excuses and left, leaving her with a sleeping Louie and Danny.

"What's that about?" Danny asked her, nodding after Flack.

"Probably wanting to get back to his girlfriend," Taylor shrugged, turning bright red, "I kinda interrupted him earlier."

"Girlfriend? Interrupted…?" Danny frowned. "Oh!"

Taylor looked down, suddenly finding her cast rather interesting. "Yeah."

"Tay, Don doesn't have a girlfriend," Danny pointed out.

"Yeah, he said something like that," Taylor agreed.

Danny looked over at her and smirked. "He's not some player, you know. He won't just go out and pick a girl up." He laughed. "More than likely you disturbed him and his right hand."

Taylor frowned. "He's left-handed, you know." Her mouth dropped open at what she had just said.

Danny laughed, "I think someone has been paying more attention to Flack then they'd care to admit."

Taylor scowled, "I hang around with detectives all day every day. You're beginning to rub off."

"Now that's a frightening thought," a voice groaned. It was Louie, his voice still rough and gravely, as if he was trying to remember how to speak.

"Hey Lou," grinned Danny, pouring his brother a glass of water. "This is Taylor."

Louie took a sip of the offer water and threw smile in her direction, "I didn't know angels were on friendly terms with demons."

"Angel?" Taylor blushed, "I can see the Messer charm wasn't wasted on either brother."

Louie grinned. "It runs in the family."

"Well, it's nice to finally be able to talk to you," Taylor told him, giving Danny a sly glance. "Because I tell you now, Danny can be pretty dull company."

"Hey!" Danny objected, a grin still plastered on his face. "You've enjoyed every minute!"

Louie laughed, "So are you his unfortunate new partner?"

"In his dreams," Taylor chuckled.

"You wouldn't know the first thing about my dreams," Danny shot back at her, playfully.

"Danny," Louie groaned, "I'm ya brother. I don't want to hear about your sordid fantasies, because that's kinda gross."

"It wouldn't matter if you weren't his brother, it would still be gross – I have to look at you and Lindsay on a regular basis."

"Lindsay?" questioned Louie, a quick smirk in Danny's direction.

"That's his partner. Or as he likes to refer to her, Montana," Taylor explained.

"Oh, Danny-boy, are you still giving the girls you like silly nicknames?" Louie teased.

"What is this? Pick on Danny day?" He glared at the both of him, but was unable to keep the happiness from his eyes. "And it's not a silly nickname. She's from Montana."

Taylor turned to Louie. "Notice how he didn't deny liking her."

Louie laughed. "You found a keeper here, Danny. There's only one other person I know who can put you in your place like that."

Danny grinned, "Taylor here is something, isn't she."

Taylor sat back and smirked. "That's it, both of you. Keep coming with these compliments. It's doing marvellous things for my ego."

Danny looked at his brother, "I think we'd better keep it easy – her head will get so big that it won't get out of the door if we're not too careful."

"Ah!" Taylor exclaimed, "So that's why you've barely left this room – you can't get your head out of the door."

Danny swiped at her, laughing. "My ego isn't that big."

Taylor smiled at the two brothers, "I'm going to go fill up your water jug, Louie," she told him as she grabbed it. "That way, there's plenty in it to dump over Danny's head."

Louie laughed again, "Well, hurry back."

"Yeah," muttered Danny. "Hurry back to pick on Danny."

Taylor laughed at the attempt at a hurt look he was going for – and failing miserably. "You're a big boy. You'll get over it," she chuckled and walked out of the door to the bathroom. There was a private bathroom in Louie's room, but she wanted to give the two a bit of privacy.

She filled up the jug, and was about to turn the tap off when she caught sight of something in the mirror. Taylor turned in fright – the ghost had startled her. She was a pretty woman, wearing all white, apart from a pair of bright turquoise socks. Her wrists had been slit, and the white of her clothes had been stained slightly pinkish from the blood. On top of all that, she was soaking wet, the water dripping on the floor.

"It was him."

Taylor started to nod, but before she could, every tap and shower in the bathroom turned itself on, gushing blood red water – including the one behind her. Taylor squealed as the water splashed over her. She spun around to turn the tap off, but it wasn't giving. It just loosened itself enough for the water to spray up and over her. She squealed again as she attempted to stop the water from going everywhere.

And then, just as suddenly had it started, did it stop. Only, Taylor was left dripping from head to foot. She grabbed the jug of now clear water and hurried back to Louie's room.

The two brothers stopped laughing as she walked in and stared. "Did you lose an argument with the bathtub?" Danny asked her.

"Something like that," Taylor told him, giving him a pointed look.

"Oh," said Danny, catching on straight away.

Taylor turned to Louie, placing the jug next to his bed. "Well, it looks like the taps are siding with Danny. They got me with a pre-emptive strike before I could dump this over his head," she let out a slightly forced laugh, "I should really get going and change into something dry. The last thing you need now is catching a cold off me."

Louie stared at her, and then nodded. "Alright… well, come back and visit me soon."

Taylor smiled at them both before turning calmly and exiting the room. She got halfway down the corridor before she broke into a run, and ran straight to the cab stand.

. . .

"What the hell happened to you?" Flack asked the dishevelled, and still wet, journalist standing in front of his desk and earning many a curious glance from his neighbouring homicide detectives.

Taylor sat down at his desk and stared at him. "I forgot my umbrella," she told him, dryly.

Flack turned to stare out of the window. It was ridiculously early in the morning. So much so that the sun was just beginning to turn the light a warm pink – a promise of yet another beautiful day – and there was no rain. He turned back to her and raised his eyebrows.

Taylor shrugged. "Figured you'd believe that more than me telling you I've seen a ghost."

Flack stared at her, then let out a sigh, "Taylor, there are no such-"

"She'd slit her wrists, and drowned," Taylor cut him off. "Okay, you can't die from both – it's one or the other, but the point is, she floating around somewhere dead."

"Right," said Flack slowly, after a quick glance around. No one seemed to be paying any attention. "And you being wet fits into this, how?"

"She seemed to think it would be easier to pass on a message involving every faucet in the bathroom, ergo the wetness," she told him, indicating to herself. "Which leads me to the conclusion she is either in a reservoir of some description, a water tower, or a fresh water pipe."

Flack stared incredulously at her, "Taylor, let's just say, for one moment that I believe you, do you realise how many miles of pipes, and how many water towers there are on the island of Manhattan alone, never mind in the tri-Burroughs? How on earth do you expect me to check them all?"

"I don't know," Taylor started, but she was interrupted by a shout from behind her.

"Flack!"

Flack turned his attention to the source of the voice. "Yes, sir?" It was his sergeant.

"DB in a water tower. I want you to deal. The CSIs will meet you at the scene."

Taylor turned back to Flack and sat back, smirking. "Shut up," he muttered, grabbing his jacket.

. . .

Taylor had managed to dry off some in the morning light, and was currently standing on a roof near to a water tower, Flack's spare waterproof wrapped around her – he'd taken pity on her and pulled it from the trunk of his car.

She was half listening to the uniforms interview the supervisor of the building, half wondering why the ghost had appeared without Maddy. It had taken a while for her to realise, but the thought had hit her.

"Morning, Mac."

Taylor looked up and saw Mac and Lindsay heading over. They both smiled at Taylor, but said nothing, instead sharing a look with Flack. Flack nodded before glancing down at his notebook. "Victim's name is Stacie Avida."

"She lived here?" Mac asked.

Flack shook his head. "No, no. She worked here. She was the doorman… woman," he frowned. "The Super said everyone seemed to like her. Him more than most. They dated for a year and a half."

"We don't have water towers in Montana," said Lindsay, staring up at the wooden feature.

Flack smiled. "The water pressure in the city's a little dismal. So everything over sixteen floors has one."

"Is that your excuse for the little hot water you have as well?" Taylor muttered. Her question was heard by all three detectives, two of whom smirked, the third tried to cover his heated cheeks with rolling his eyes.

"Every tenant have access to the roof?" Mac asked, sparing Flack.

"Yeah, it's like an extra rec room," Flack started. He blushed again, before clearing his throat. A repeat of certain aspects of a certain dream were coming back fresh to his mind.

"Do you know there have been six suspicious deaths in this building in the past ten years?" Lindsay asked, not noticing the red cheeks, as she had been looking back at the tower.

Flack and Mac looked at each other. "You're starting to sound like Drew," Flack smirked.

"Hey!" objected Taylor. "Stop making it sound like a bad thing," she scowled. "People say it's cursed."

"Taylor made me take the Graveline tour with her a while back," Lindsay explained. Flack and Mac stared at the two of them. "You visit places where unexplained deaths have occurred, where famous people have died," Lindsay continued.

"This was stop number eight," Taylor added.

"Now it's death number seven," said Mac.


	61. Uncooperative Witnesses

_Spoilers for 2x16: Cool Hunter_

_03/07/2006_

**Chapter 60: Uncooperative Witnesses**

By mid-morning, the two CSIs had finished with the scene and had returned back to the lab. Taylor had gone to the morgue with Mac, which was something which she wasn't entirely sure as to why she was doing. A processed dead body was not on her list of things she liked seeing, but she hadn't eaten, and she was curious as to what had actually killed her.

"Miss Turner," Sid smiled in greeting.

"Morning, Sid."

He cocked his head, considering her. "And what are you doing in this end of the morgue? Dr Pino isn't at work until this evening."

Taylor nodded, "I know. I'm just… curious as to what killed Stacie," she told him, nodding her head in the direction of the body, without actually looking at it.

Sid looked at Mac, who nodded back. "Well, despite the amount of blood you found at the scene, COD was not exsanguination. I found a significant amount of water in her lungs."

"She drowned?" asked Taylor. She was a little surprised. Her money would have been on the slit wrists being the cause of death: there had been so much blood.

Sid nodded.

"Which means she was alive when she went inside the tower," said Mac. Sid nodded again. "Difficult to take a live woman up the side of a water tower, unless she's unconscious," Mac commented.

Sid smiled. "Exactly." He pointed to an area just above the Y incision. "An injection mark. There are an endless number of substances which could knock her right out. I sent blood over to tox," he informed them. "I also found evidence of sexual activity. The semen sample was diluted from the water, but, there's still a chance you could pull something." He reached for her hand and began taking a scraping from underneath her fingernails. "_Here's the smell of the blood still; all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand._"

Taylor smiled. It was one of the first things that had been said in the morgue that she truly understood. "Macbeth."

Sid smiled back. "Mmmm, hmmm." Finishing with the scrapings, he picked the wrist up and held it for Mac and Taylor to see, the latter of the two fought back the instinct reaction to gag. "Radial and ulna arteries were both severed." He turned the hand over. "Superficial wounds to her knuckles and from the tops of her hands. I pulled more glass fragments from her wounds." He put the hand down and handed over a small container with pieces of glass in it.

Mac frowned and looked at the wounds on the wrist. "Directionality of incisions suggests movement in both distal and proximal directions."

Taylor stared blankly at him. "And the layman's translation of that would be?

"A sawing motion."

Taylor fought back the gag reflex again. She really needed to learn how to control her curiosity, sometimes.

"With the amount of arterial spray from this type of wound, the crime scene must have been a mess," said Sid.

Mac shook his head. "No. There was nothing to suggest her wrist was slashed inside the tank. No blood trail outside of it. Not a drop. How's that possible?"

Taylor didn't stick around to hear the answer. The thought of blood gushing from the wound was enough to make her stomach churn. She quietly made her excuses and left. She made it as far as the door, before she ran into Stacie. _Literally_. She looked up at her from the floor where she had bounced off her to, completely confused.

"It was him." Stacie growled. And then she disappeared.

Almost as soon as she had gone, her place was filled by Maddy, and another ghost. "What on earth are you doing down there."

Taylor pulled a face. "I ran into your other ghost, who you should be keeping a better eye on."

Maddy frowned. "Taylor, I only have the one charge, today. This guy."

"Well, there's another one charging around, asking for my help," Taylor informed her as she pulled herself to her feet.

Maddy continued to frown. "Be careful, Taylor. This other ghost is nothing to do with me. At least I don't think so. I'll check after."

"Alright," Taylor sighed, turning her attention to Maddy's ghost. He looked like he had been in a fight. Whether or not this was what killed him, or it had happened just before he had been killed, Taylor didn't know. He was also sporting some interesting bruises around his neck – they had an interlocking pattern to them. A chain, perhaps. In his outstretched hand he was holding a dead snake. Taylor stared at it and then at him. "Are you kidding me?"

"Help me."

Taylor turned to Maddy. "A snake?"

Maddy shrugged. "Hey, I know as much as you," she paused. "Actually, that's not completely true. I do know that my eye candy has already been and processed the scene."

Taylor frowned, "Eye-candy… oh," she sighed. "I'm not saying anything," she told her dead friend, shaking her head.

. . .

The doors to the elevator pinged open and Danny walked in to join her on her way up. "Hey, Danny. What are you doing here?"

Danny grinned, "I work here, unlike some."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Ha ha. No, seriously, I thought you would be at the hospital."

Danny shrugged, "Louie's with Mom and Dad at the moment. Besides, Stella rang. Said she could do with my help."

"I assume Stella's working with Sheldon?"

Danny nodded, "Why? Is that the case you're helping on?"

Taylor rubbed her forehead. "I've been visited by two ghosts. The first was a woman found dead in a water tower. But Maddy said that she wasn't-"

"Maddy?" Danny asked her, staring intently at her.

Taylor sighed. "Maddy's on our side. She looks after the spirits until they are able to move on."

"Taylor, how much sleep have you been getting, recently."

Taylor glared at him. "Just because I haven't been getting sleep recently doesn't mean it's causing me to see things. Maddy's been around since her funeral, helping. And I'm sure Marty told you that. So don't start claiming that I'm losing my mind."

Danny stared at her, and then, to Taylor's surprise, nodded. "You're right, he did say something. And I think I know you well enough by now to know you wouldn't make something like this up." Taylor just gaped at him, her mouth flapping open and closed. "You seem surprised I believe you."

Surprised was an understatement. "I was expecting more of a… I don't know… you telling me I was crazy."

Danny laughed. "You _are_ crazy. The amount of time you've spent with me in the last month is proof enough of that."

Taylor pulled a face, and then smiled. In front of them, the door opened and the two of them got out. "How's Louie?"

"Louie's fine," Danny smiled. "He seems to like you."

"What's not to like?" Taylor joked.

"And you think I have a big ego?" Danny muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Danny!"

"Hi, Stella," smiled Danny as the curly haired detective called them from the AV lab. "Sorry I didn't make it to the scene. Hawkes says I missed some fun at the playground?"

"No worries," said Stella as Danny and Taylor joined her. "We brought some back, just for you." She pointed at the screen of the computer in front of her. "These photos were taken from our vic's camera phone. He was quite the photographer."

Danny grinned. "I like the subject matter. These girls are fine."

Taylor swiped at him. "You have been surrounded by too many nurses."

"Are you kidding me? I pity Louie. He doesn't have a single good looking nurse to wait on him hand and foot. They're all old, or men."

Stella laughed. "Girl," she corrected. "Not girls."

Danny nodded. "Oh, alright. I see. These are all the same girl."

Stella clicked on several photos. "Different hair styles, different clothes."

"She was quite the chameleon," commented Taylor.

Stella nodded. "These all look like candid shots, to me. She didn't even know she was being photographed."

Danny reached over for a folder lying on the table. Inside was a picture and autopsy report of the ghost who had come to visit Taylor. "Well, maybe our vic," he glanced down at the folder. "Ben Hatfield, was a stalker."

Stella clicked on a photo of the girl talking to another guy. "And if this guy here was her boyfriend, maybe he wasn't too happy about that."

"It looks like all these shots are taken on the same street," said Danny as he leant over and scrolled through the photographs. "Let's look at that bus stop sign back there." He selected a picture and enhanced the bus stop.

"George Washington Bridge," Taylor read.

"Washington Heights," Stella read aloud. She turned to Taylor. "Has your ghost given you anything to go on?"

"A snake."

"A snake?" Stella repeated.

Taylor shrugged. "A dead snake."

Stella turned back to the folder. "Well, according to the tox report, his blood workup was clean. He was choked to death, anyway," she frowned. "A snake?" she repeated.

Taylor nodded. "A dead snake." She sighed, "I get the feeling it's the case breaker, but I have no idea what it means."

Stella frowned. "Well let's go see if we can find this girl. Maybe she can explain it."

. . .

The girl, Jennifer Rodriquez, wasn't hard to find. She was sat outside enjoying the sun. Stella, Danny and Taylor approached her, showing her the photographs Ben had taken of her. "What are these?" she asked them.

"I was hoping you could tell me," Stella told her. "They're all of you."

"Ok, somebody's following me?" she asked, scowling.

"Well, not anymore," Danny informed her. "The person that took these pictures is dead. His name is Ben Hatfield. You know him?"

Jenny shook her head, turning angry. "No. And I don't like people I don't know taking pictures of me."

"My guess is your boyfriend here doesn't either," Stella pointed to one of the pictures. "What's his name?"

"I don't know," Jenny shrugged. "Just some guy who wanted to buy me coffee."

"No need for names?" Danny asked.

Jenny glared at him. "It was just coffee."

Stella glared back. "See, this guy here, he could be a murderer." She pulled out a card and thrust it at her. "So the next time you see him, get a name. And give me a call."

"Jenny, can I ask you a question?" Taylor asked. Jenny turned her glare from Stella to Taylor. "Do snakes mean anything to you?" Jenny rolled her eyes and stormed off. "Charming," Taylor muttered.

"Welcome to the world of uncooperative witnesses," Danny muttered back.


	62. Cool Hunting

_Spoilers for 2x16: Cool Hunter_

_04/07/2006_

**Chapter 61: Cool Hunting**

Taylor stifled a yawn as she headed to the bathroom. They had just returned from Washington Heights, but the early morning visit to the hospital meant she was already growing tired. She leant over the sink and turned the tap on to splash some water on her face.

"It was him."

Taylor whirled around and found Stacie staring at her. "Hi, Stacie?" she offered cautiously.

And then the room seemed to explode in water. Taylor screamed as every toilet exploded, and every tap turned itself on, gushing water over her.

Stacie disappeared and the toilets and sinks pumped water over the floor, as if over-flowing. The door burst open and Stella and Danny burst in, guns drawn. Discovering Taylor was alone, they put their guns away and dashed over.

"What happened, Taylor?" Stella asked her, taking her jacket off and draping it over her.

Taylor looked up at her, peering out from under the hair which was now plastered to her face, "I… uh… I'm not sure. Stacie appeared, and everything exploded."

"Stacie?"

Taylor nodded. "She's the victim in Mac's case."

Stella sighed. "Alright, Danny, call maintenance and get them to look at the bathroom," Danny nodded, patted Taylor's shoulder, and left. "Taylor, have you got some spare clothes, or do you need to borrow some?"

Taylor shook her head, "I have some in my locker."

Stella sighed. "You go get changed, see Mac if you need too."

Taylor nodded and headed straight for the locker room. She had changed into a dry pair of combats and was pulling a camisole over her head when Maddy appeared. "What the hell happened to you?" she asked her friend, taking in the wet hair and pile of wet clothes on the bench.

"Stacie Avida."

"Who?" Maddy asked, pulling a face.

Taylor glared at her. "DB in water tower?" she hinted.

"Oh," Maddy frowned. "Look, she's nothing to do with me, Taylor."

Taylor sighed. "I guessed. But all she seems to be doing is, well, drenching me. She's not hurting me, so she can't be that dangerous, can she?"

"I really don't know, Tay. The only thing is that all the spirits which need help, come to you through me, now. And the last person to see you who didn't…" she trailed off and pointed at the cast.

Taylor slumped back against the locker, "I'm going to find out more about her."

Maddy nodded, "I suspected you would. It's why you became a journalist – you're too curious for your own good." Next to her, Ben appeared. "But don't forget about this guy."

Ben held out his hand. In it was a snake again. "Help me."

Taylor nodded, resisting the urge to roll her eyes and turned back to Maddy, "You wouldn't happen to know where any of the guys are who are on Ben's case, would you?"

"Sheldon is with Stella in the room with the big lit up tables." Taylor just arched an eyebrow. "What? You asked, he's working the same case – figured I'd save you some time."

Biting back a chuckle, Taylor shut her locker, threw her wet clothes on a radiator (which wasn't actually on, but it would air the clothes out) and headed off in search of Stella.

. . .

Sure enough, Sheldon was with Stella.

"What about the blood we found in the sandbox?" Stella asked. They both looked up as Taylor approached, and smiled at her.

"Belongs to an unknown male, and I'm still waiting on results from autopsy," Hawkes replied. "How did you do?"

Stella let out an exasperated grunt. "Ugh, we got nothing but what I think are lies from our vic's object of affection. But I did find the next hot thing."

"Hmmm?" Hawkes asked.

"Remember, NHT Media. It was on Ben Hatfield's business card. Next Hot Thing. He was a trend forecaster from Madison Avenue. He wasn't stalking Jennifer Rodriguez, he was working. They call it cool hunting."

"I read about that," Hawkes said thoughtfully.

"Sheldon, are you reading my articles?" Taylor asked him.

Hawkes turned and looked at her, "That was you?" Taylor nodded. "How does that relate to crime?"

"What's hot on the plate now, is worth millions on Madison Avenue. But do you think the guys who come up with the ideas actually get any credit for it? Or even any money for it? Unless you patent, or even sell the ideas, there's not a thing that can be done. And that's a crime."

Hawkes nodded, "I see."

"It must be why he had all those pictures," said Stella.

"Um, Ben came back. He's still showing me a dead snake."

"A dead snake?" Sheldon repeated.

Taylor nodded, hopeful. "Does that mean anything to you?"

Sheldon shook his head. "Should it?"

Taylor sighed, "I don't know."

"Don't worry, Taylor," said Stella. "We'll keep it in mind."

"I'll find you guys later," she told them, as she nodded in agreement. "There's something I need to do.

. . .

_Something_ was research – nothing new in Taylor's books. (She was seriously thinking about asking Mac for a job, considering how much research she did for the criminalists). Taylor was sat at 'her' computer, scrolling through various case files. Old newspaper clippings and cases spread out over the table beside her.

An hour in, and Lindsay's curiosity had gotten the best of her and had joined her in her work when she had spotted her after returning from Stacie's apartment. It was pushing lunch time by the time Mac found them. Taylor looked up from the article she was pouring over. "This case is getting creepier by the minute," she told him.

Lindsay pulled a face. "Al the previous deaths in that building have mysterious circumstances."

"Sounds to me like you're starting to believe in that curse," chuckled Mac.

"Mac, I believe in the science," Lindsay told him, ignoring the sigh from Taylor.

"Me too," Mac agreed. "But what do you have?"

Lindsay gave him a folder. "This is what I found in Stacie Avida's apartment."

"Blood on the doorframe, flowers from the roof, and a used condom. Semen from the condom was a match to what we found in the vic," Mac read. "What about the blood we found on the frame of the door?"

"A male donor, but it's not a match to the semen," said Lindsay. "But I found a substance on the flower consistent with mucus. That is a match to the blood."

"But not a match to the semen. There were two male donors in her apartment. Her boyfriend, the super, didn't have a cold – he was allergic to flowers. Murder and romance. It's always about the little things." He turned to Taylor, "Did you find anything else?"

"Not yet, but I'll keep on looking. I'm going to get some lunch first. Would either of you care to join me?" Taylor offered, getting to her feet.

"I'm afraid not," Mac said, "I'm going to bring the Super in."

"I'm going to carry on working," Lindsay told her.

Taylor nodded and headed towards the door. "Oh," she said, stopping and turning, 'Stacie seems pretty adamant that _he_ _did_ _it_. So I'm thinking your suspect is a male." She disappeared out of the door before either of the CSIs could comment.

She made her way down the corridor on a mission to find Danny. She knew he often thought with his stomach, and was probably hungry himself. She almost ran into him as he walked out of one of the labs.

"Where's the fire, Drew?"

"No fire, just hungry. You game for some lunch?"

"Are you buying?"

"Isn't it your turn?" Taylor asked him.

Danny stopped. "Is it me, or is it always my turn?"

Taylor grinned. "Damn, I was wondering how long it would take you to catch on to that."

"I caught on a while ago. And I've been keeping a tab. I think buying me lunch until the end of next week will suffice," he declared.

"Danny, its Monday!" Taylor objected.

"And?" Danny asked, innocently.

"The Messer charm may be good, but it isn't that good!" She laughed. "Fine, lunch is on me today."

Danny wrapped his arm around her neck. "Do not question the power of the Messer charm!" Taylor just laughed. "Right, I need to call in and see Stell first," he told her, leading Taylor back into the AV lab, where Stella was sat at a computer.

Taylor perched on a counter behind them as she watched them work. Next to her, Maddy and Ben appeared. This time, instead of showing her a snake, he took a pen and wrote on her cast, AB0 429. Except as soon as Taylor had read it, it disappeared and Ben allowed the pen to drop to the floor as he and Maddy disappeared.

Taylor ran the numbers over in her head, wondering what they were, as she looked at Danny and Stella. Neither of them seemed to have noticed that anything had happened. "Alright, boy meets girl," Danny was saying, flicking through the photographs. "Boy impresses girl with his pimped out ride."

Right, well we talked to girl. Where's boy?" Stella asked.

"I may be able to find him. See the reflection in the window?" He clicked on the reflection and enlarged it.

"AB0 429," said Taylor.

"Can you clear it up, Danny?" asked Stella after both of them had given Taylor confused looks.

"Give me a sec. Let me enhance the resolution." He clicked a few more buttons. "Gotcha. AB0 429. Boom!" he exclaimed, turning to face Taylor.

"Nice, Messer." Stella also turned. "Now that is a slightly easier clue than a dead snake. Now, let's see where that car takes us."

Danny sent Taylor an apologetic look. "Late lunch?"

Taylor nodded miserably as her stomach gave an impatient grumble.


	63. There's Time To Eat Later

_Spoilers for 2x16: Cool Hunter_

_10/07/2006_

**Chapter 62: There's Time To Eat Later**

Somewhere along the line, Taylor had found herself in a car with Danny and Stella, on the way to see the latest suspect. And the thing was, it was beginning to feel like it was normal. Neither of them had asked – just expected. She realised, as she followed them into the building, that it was actually a really nice feeling to know that they both believed and trusted her to come with them. So different from Mac and Lindsay.

Out of all the CSIs, it was Danny she had grown the closest to, and despite all the joking, the two of them were nothing more than two, really good, friends. Short of Marty who really did know pretty much everything about her, Danny was there at a close second, and if there was one thing she knew for certain, she would trust him with her life. He turned to look at her, as they ascended in the elevator, "What's up?"

Taylor smiled, "Nothing. Just thinking."

"Careful! You don't want to strain something."

"No, one look at you and I'm scared of the consequences of doing that," she smirked, earning a snort of laughter from Stella, who in turn, earned a reproachful look from Danny.

"Smart Alec," he muttered.

"Come on, children," grinned Stella as the elevator pinged open and they walked out onto the floor.

. . .

"The Escalade's my company car," said Rico Cerda.

Danny frowned, "Who drives it?

"Elliot Stanton. He works for me – my best employee."

"Trendspotting?" Danny asked, referring to the name of his company.

"Yeah. So what?" To say Rico's attitude was a little hostile may have been a slight understatement. "What's this all about, detectives?"

"It's about your competition," Stella told him. "The Next Hot Thing. One of their employees was murdered and found in Washington Heights."

"What does this have to do with my company? I mean, The Next Hot Thing is no threat to me. I know what's hot long before they do. I don't have to kill the competition. I'm already doing it."

Stella pointed to a display Taylor had been looking at. It was a model wearing a funky looking pair of jeans – the bottoms of which were nothing more than free hanging beads – and they were exceedingly similar to the pair Jenny had been wearing earlier. "Could this be the next top thing?" she asked Rico.

Rico nodded, smugly. "Guaranteed."

Danny glowered, "What makes you such an expert?"

"I'm just a… You know, I grew up four blocks from here. When people thing Washington heights, they think urban decay," explained Rico, "But, see, I see the future. And now all the big companies are coming to me. Madison Avenue loves that I still have one foot in the neighbourhood. They know that I am connected and that I operate at a street level."

"What does Jenny Rodriguez get for all of this?" Taylor asked.

Rico turned to face her, finally acknowledging her, "Who?"

Stella rolled her eyes at him, "The girl in your pictures."

"But I guess you just steal her fashion design," Taylor scoffed. "You don't need to know her name."

"See, my clients pay me for information. And before you know it, everybody walking down time Square looks up to see what I discovered. The rest of America jumps on board. I run a multi-million dollar corporation. I'm not in public relations," he sneered.

"I suppose," said Danny. "If your competition say, The Next Hot Thing, took a few photos of Jenny – it could complicate things, eh?"

Rico glared at him, "I don't like what you're implying. Now, I'm a very busy man, detectives. You know the way out."

"I have one more question," Stella told him, obviously happy about keeping Rico for a little longer – payback for being unhelpful. "Where's Elliot Stanton?"

. . .

Elliot Stanton could apparently be located in Washington Heights, which the three of them made a detour over to. Taylor could see all hopes of lunch slipping away.

"Man, for half the kids on this neighbourhood, this is it." Danny noted as the three of them walked down the busy streets looking at the people who were about, "They never leave, they never go anywhere else. Not even Jersey. This is their whole world."

"Well, they may never leave, but their cultures and styles travel everywhere," Stella told him.

"What do you know? Elliot Stanton's on Rico's payroll and he gets to drive a company car," Danny pointed to across the street where a new Escalade had pulled up.

"Can't say I'm a big fan of Escalades," Taylor muttered as she crossed the street behind the two CSIs. The three of them headed straight for the driver of the car, who was part way down the street.

"You know this guy, Elliot?" Stella asked him, holding a photo under his nose.

"Nope."

"Imagine him alive," Taylor muttered dryly.

The two CSIs looked at her as Elliot shook his head. "Never seen him."

"Looks like you were at the wrong end of a couple of punches," said Danny, "You landed a few though, right?"

"Looks like it hurts," Stella told him.

Elliot glared at them, "Are you paramedics?"

Danny finally lost his patience. "Alright, look, we get it, Elliot. Your boss told you we'd be swinging by. Stop playing the coy boy, do this the easy way and answer us a few questions."

"Okay," said Elliot, smiling smugly, "I fell of my bike."

"Before or after you slammed your fist into Ben Hatfield's face?" Stella asked him.

"Ben, who?"

Taylor, who at that point had been reading a text message from Smith – he still hadn't given up on trying to get her to buy some shares – looked up to find Danny looking pointedly from her phone to Elliot.

"Ben, hanging from a swing in the park, Hatfield," Stella snapped.

Taylor took the hint and flicked the camera on and started taking photos.

Elliot glared at her, "What are you doing?"

"What do you think?" Danny asked, drawing the attention away from Taylor, "next new fad – ligature marks instead of tattoos?"

Elliot just continued to glare at them.

"I hear you're really good at your job," said Stella. "Well, we're even better at ours. You think about that."

The three of them left Elliot and headed back to their SUV. "You get it?" Danny asked Taylor.

Taylor nodded and threw the phone over to him. "I got it," she told him as he flicked through the pictures.

"Good," said Stella.

. . .

Danny and Stella had gone straight to the AV lab to take the photos off her phone leaving Taylor to head to a vending machine. Danny was certain they would be able to get some lunch after they photos were safely on the computer, so in the meantime, a Snickers bar was going to sustain her. Only, before she got to the machine, she spotted Sid heading to Sheldon with a few x-rays, and Maddy stood to one side, with Ben, staring at them. Taylor bit back a smile, wondering how Sheldon would react if knew Maddy was as good as haunting him.

The two of them had had a discussion about the x-ray and left before Taylor made it over. Instead, she walked over to Maddy and Ben, giving Maddy a pointed look. Maddy shrugged, "Ben wanted to show you something. It's not my fault Sheldon happened to be here."

Taylor rolled her eyes and turned to Ben, expecting him to show her the dead snake again, but instead, he showed her a small black ball. "Help me."

"Sure thing, only, what kind of ball is it?" Taylor asked. Ben, as she expected, didn't respond. Maddy shrugged and the two of them disappeared.

Muttering curses under her breath as she abandoned her mission to the vending machine and turned to head in the opposite direction.

. . .

"Elliot Stanton is our primary suspect and we don't have enough evidence to hold up in court." Danny was in one of the layout rooms with a slightly dejected Hawkes, when Taylor walked in

"Hold up," Danny said to Hawkes. "Don't throw in the towel just yet. Exhibit A," he held up a photograph. "Elliot with his arm around Jenny, walking. Exhibit B," he held up another photograph. "Our vic's shirt with grab marks, pattern left by gloved hands."

"We don't know that it was Elliot's gloves that left the impression on the shirt," Hawkes told him.

Danny nodded, "Bruising and cuts from the picture Taylor took of Elliot's hands are consistent with the wounds on our vic." Danny frowned and stuck his hand into his pocket, pulling out Taylor's phone and threw it to her.

"Well, that just proves that Ben Hatfield and Elliot Stanton got in a fight, not necessarily with each other," Hawkes explained.

"You don't need to be a pathologist to see that Elliot's hand is infected. He knocked out Ben's tooth. That's what opened the flesh."

"What we see, and what we can prove are two different things. We need to connect Elliot Stanton with our victim. Prove that it was his gloves which made the pattern on the shirt, and that it was his fist that knocked Ben's tooth out, and ultimately that it was Elliot Stanton's blood which we found in the sandbox."

"If it helps," Taylor piped up, "Ben gave me another clue – a small black ball."

Danny grinned, "Makes complete sense to me." Taylor looked at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation. "We're going back to the crime scene," Danny told her.

"But-"

Danny nodded, "Safe to say we're skipping lunch."

Taylor sighed.

. . .

It turned out, the trip to the crime scene wasn't as boring as Taylor thought it was going to be – it wasn't until they had returned to the lab and been there a while, that she even realized that was still hungry. And the reason for that was a very sweaty Danny had been her distraction. Danny may have been just a friend, but she was still female, and Danny certainly wasn't lacking any 'phwoar factor'.

The reason for the Danny distraction was because of a game of handball. They had arrived back at the crime scene to find two guys hitting a small black ball off a wall, using their fists as hands. Danny had had to explain to Taylor that handball was just like squash, except for the racquet replacement. He had then had to explain the rules of squash, after rolling his eyes at Taylor, who had just given him a blank look. Finishing the explanation coincided with one of the guys declaring his victory, which was when Danny stepped forward. "I'm next."

They guy let out a sarcastic laugh. "You? Why don't you and your little Blue Man group go find a playground on the Upper East Side," he snorted, referring to the two uniformed officers who were standing with Taylor.

"No, we're good here," Danny told him. "In fact we're going to stay here for a while. This is a murder scene. Kid was killed here just this morning. You know, funny how no one saw anything. So these guys are going to stick around, alright?" He pointed to the uniformed officers. "For as long as it takes. Unless you know something?" He snatched at the ball the guy had been bouncing.

"Give me my ball back, man."

"I tell you what, why don't you play me?" Danny offered throwing the ball up and down. "You beat me, I get out of here, and I'll take these guys with me, not to mention you get to tell everybody that you got to beat a cop."

The guy eyed him suspiciously. "And if you win?"

Danny shrugged. "A little information."

The guy looked from Danny to the officers with Taylor and sighed. "You serve."

Danny smiled and walked back to Taylor, pulling his shirt off over his head and handing it to her. "What?"he asked Taylor, who was looking expectantly at him.

"You're going to stop there?" she asked him, wiggling an eyebrow at him.

Danny grinned and swiped at her. "Shuddup." Pulling on a brand new pair of fingerless gloves, he headed over to the court and served.

Danny's opponent was no push over, and he had Danny running all over the court… and diving over it. However, somewhere along the lines, Danny had played handball too, and surprised Taylor by pulling back from his loss to win the game. After collecting in on his winnings – some information, he headed back over to Taylor with a grin on his face.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "I dread to see you if beat Marty and Flack at basketball."

"Whaddya mean _if_?"

"Oh, you really need to get a shower," she muttered.

Danny puffed out his chest. "Not liking the smell of victory?"

"I think you're mistaking the smell of victory with the smell of sweat," she told him dryly, earning a big, sweaty, hug. "Daniel!"

Danny just laughed at her.

. . .

As Danny headed to the locker room to shower, Taylor headed back to the vending machine. Her stomach had reminded her, in no uncertain terms, that it was still wanting that Snickers. The vending machine, however, had other ideas. "Give. Me. My. Chocolate!" Taylor spat at it, hitting it with each word.

The vending machine wasn't in a particularly talkative mood, Unfortunately for Taylor, Stacie was. "It was him."

Taylor barely had time to react before the vending machine exploded into life, firing its contents out, through the glass. Taylor dove to the floor, sliding along the tiles, lucky enough only to have been hit by a flying packet of skittles. She started to pull herself to her feet.

"IT WAS HIM!"

Taylor dropped back to the floor and cradled her head as the can machine decided it wanted in on the action, firing cans at the wall behind her. They exploded as they hit the wall above her, drenching her in every combination of soda created by the Pepsi Corporation.

Finally, the battleground fell silent, apart from the bubbling soda on the floor, and Taylor pulled herself to her feet, incredibly surprised that no one had come to see what the commotion was. When she realised that Stacie had gone, she let out a breath she didn't realise she had been holding in, and headed to find Stella to let her know that there was a bit of a mess in the corridor.

After finding Stella, and reassuring her she was alright, then heading for her a shower, Taylor changed. With her hair still damp she set out to find Danny – she never had that Snickers – but was stopped in her tracks by two friendlier ghosts. "Are you alright?" Maddy asked her.

Taylor nodded. "Short of being attacked by a packet of candy, I don't think she wanted to hurt me," Taylor frowned. "I know it sounds strange, but I think she's just trying to scare me."

Maddy nodded. "Just be careful."

"Help me," said Ben, holding out the dead snake.

Taylor looked at Maddy, who shrugged, before both ghosts disappeared. Taylor sighed and continued looking for Danny – all hopes of eating had completely vanished.


	64. Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy

_Spoilers for 2x16: Cool Hunter_

_11/07/2006_

**Chapter 63: Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy**

Taylor found Danny and Hawkes in the layout room, discussing their findings. "The substance pulled from Ben Hatfield's mouth was reptile skin," said Hawkes. He looked up and smiled as Taylor walked in.

"Reptile skin?" repeated Taylor. "As in snake skin?"

Sheldon nodded. "Treated like leather. It came of a bag, boot, belt, or anything else reptile skin may be used for." He turned to Danny. "What about you?"

Danny grinned, "I got a match." He pulled out an evidence bag containing the gloves he had played handball with. "It was this type of glove, identical to the gloves Elliot Stanton was wearing in the photo that made the imprint on the shirt. And the tar and dirt of the pattern are a match to the handball court."

Hawkes sighed, "Okay, but anybody who was playing handball in that court, wearing that type of glove could have pushed Ben. It doesn't necessarily single out Elliot."

Danny's grin didn't disappear. "No," he agreed. "But my three victories at handball gives us something that does - an eye witness who saw Elliot Stanton going at it with Ben Hatfield."

Hawkes returned the grin, "Sounds like we've got enough for a warrant."

"You should have seen me whipping these kid's asses," he boasted, wrapping his arm around Taylor's neck. "Eh, Drew?"

Taylor rolled her eyes, "It was one kid, Danny. Good lord, one playground victory and you-"

Danny just smirked and tightened his grip, "Admit it, Drew. You were impressed."

"I don't know if impressed is the word I'd use," Taylor grunted as she tried to remove his arm.

Hawkes just laughed at them and left, leaving the two to start play fighting. Or they would have done, had Lindsay not walked in and cleared her throat. Danny jumped away so quickly, he almost sent Taylor flying. "What's up, Montana."

Taylor could tell from the look on her face, she was fighting with herself not to snap,_ it's Lindsay, Messer_, at him. "I was wondering if I could borrow you?"

"Sure," shrugged Danny, forgetting about his conversation with Taylor and leading Lindsay out of the door, "But what's in it for me?"

"Drinks?" Taylor heard Lindsay ask as their voices drifted down the corridor. Taylor didn't bother hiding the smile that spread across her lips as she headed back to what she was beginning to see as her office, and the computer. It was time to get to the bottom of what Stacie wanted her to know.

. . .

Her research, a good hour later, had led her to scouring old issues of various papers, including her own. As a columnist, she had extensive access to past Daily papers, and in this case, it was certainly an asset. Taylor had given up on the table, which was hidden beneath piles of various papers – cases, newspapers, internet printouts – you name it – and was sat cross-legged on the floor.

"What are you doing down there?" Lindsay asked her from the doorway.

"Trying to find out what Stacie-" Taylor stopped and peered at Lindsay. "What happened?" she asked, referring to the strange grin which was planted firmly on Lindsay's face.

Lindsay came and sat on the floor next to her, carefully treading over the papers which were strewn everywhere. As she looked at Taylor, the grin suddenly vanished, and was replaced by a greenish hue.

"Are you alright?" Taylor asked her, suddenly concerned about her friend.

"Oh my God," Lindsay whispered, looking horrified.

Taylor whipped her head around, half certain there would be a ghost standing behind her, but seeing that there wasn't, she returned her attention back to Lindsay, still puzzled. "What?"

Lindsay shut her eyes, "I am so sorry," she whispered.

Taylor shifted to her knees and shuffled so she was in front of Lindsay, not caring about the papers Lindsay had carefully avoided, "What?" she repeated.

"I asked Danny out… I think," Lindsay whispered so quietly Taylor struggled to hear her.

Taylor sat back and a grinned madly at Lindsay. "About time one of you made a move."

Lindsay's eyes snapped open, "Huh?"

"I said, it's about-"

Lindsay shook her head, "No, I heard that. What I meant was, how come you're not mad?"

It took four seconds for the penny to drop, "I am going to kill Messer," Taylor muttered, "Well," she added lightly. "After your date, of course." Seeing Lindsay's still puzzled face, she continued, "There is no _me and Messer_. It were just trying to wind up for the lab gossip queens. Only Danny was supposed to clear that one up with you."

Lindsay stared at her then smiled. "About time someone put those girls in their place. I heard all the rumours they were spreading about me."

Taylor nodded. So had she. And she'd heard the ones about herself. "So, what do you mean, I think?"

"Well," Lindsay bit her lip. "He had me in his arms-"

Had Taylor been drinking, she would have been choking. That being said, she still managed a splutter, "Come again?"

"I was proving a theory."

"Oh aye?"grinned Taylor as she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Is that what the Montanan slang is for that, then?"

Lindsay rolled her eyes, "I bribed him to do it with drinks. And he suggested dinner," she sighed, "But…"

"But what?" Taylor pressed.

"But he said it in a way that didn't make me think that he was being serious. Or at least, I don't think he was asking me out."

Taylor frowned, "Were you asking _him_ out when you suggested drinks?"

"Well, I-"

"What are you two doing down there?"

Lindsay and Taylor looked up and found Mac peering down at them.

Perfect timing, Mac, Taylor thought. She pulled herself to her feet, followed closely by Lindsay, and beckoned them both other to the table, "So, Stacie is pretty adamant that _he_ did it."

"Taylor," Mac started.

Taylor cut him off. "The answer is in here somewhere," she said referring to the mounds of paperwork. "I grabbed all the old case files from the previous deaths in the building – autopsies, everything. I also got everything on Stacie Avida. Former residencies, work history. Zimmer's name is mentioned in three of the cases. Everything's connected, right?"

Mac and Lindsay shared a look, "Through evidence, not intuition," Mac told her.

"Wait," pleaded Taylor. "Hear me out. Jeana Morrison is the girl who choked on the rooftop. I had Sid pull Stacie's DNA for reference." Mac stared at her. Taylor shrugged. "Alright, so I then had Stella run it and explain it to me," she confessed, pushing the results into the Mac's hand.

"Jeana shares one allele with Stacie at all thirteen aloeci. Jeana was Stacie's daughter," Mac read the results aloud for Lindsay.

Taylor pulled out another sheet of paper. "And she died four years ago on that roof. Dr Zimmer has had two previous complaints filed against him – practicing under the influence. But nothing was ever proven."

Lindsay frowned. "He was using drugs the day he tried to save Jeana, overcompensated, fracturing a rib, which punctured her heart. And that killed her."

Mac picked up one of the files on the table and looked through it, 'Stacie Avida was a natural brunette, and she worked in publishing until two months after her daughter's death."

"And she left to become a doorman," Lindsay read from over his shoulder.

"She wanted total access. The building _was_ haunted," said Mac. "By the woman who died the day her child did." He turned to Taylor, "This is above and beyond the call-"

"Mac, whether you believe me or not, Stacie does, and for some reason there is something she wanted to tell me. I'm just trying to find out what."

Mac frowned, "Very well, but in future, I want you to run any form of testing past me. And I also want you to clear it with someone before you start rooting around in cold cases. It would take nothing for a good defence attorney to throw a case out of the window if he found out a journalist had been looking through it."

Taylor smiled. "And that's precisely why I had Stella do it," she told him. Truth be told, the reason she had Stella with her was because she was the only CSI that Mac wouldn't reprimand. Whether or not the two were together or not, Stella certainly had some power over him.

Mac looked like he was about to say something, but changed his mind, "Come on, Lindsay." Lindsay gave Taylor a small smile, and left with Mac, leaving Taylor to clear the papers up.

She had managed to transfer the papers from the floor to the table, when the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Taylor looked up and found Stacie glaring at her, tears in her eyes.

"IT WAS HIM!" she shouted.

Taylor ducked under the table as the papers went flying everywhere. She was vaguely aware of spotting the transparent white shoes and trousers of Maddy launch themselves in the direction of Stacie's aqua coloured socks, before the two of them disappeared.

"What the hell happened in here?"

Taylor peered out from under the table, through the still falling leaves of paper, at Danny, who was watching her climb out. 'Stacie," she told him.

"Are you alright?"

Taylor nodded, "Yeah. What's up?" she asked, changing the subject. She smiled coyly, "Or rather, where are you taking her?"

Danny frowned, "What…? How do you… Lindsay."

Taylor nodded, "Spill."

Danny grinned and leant against the door. "She called me cowboy."

Taylor smirked, "So, Big & Rich, where are you taking her?"

"I… I don't know," Danny admitted. He frowned, "Big & Rich?"

"Cause I saddle up my horse

and I ride into the city

I make a lot of noise

Cause the girls

They are so pretty

Riding up and down Broadway

on my old stud Leroy

And the girls say

Save a horse, ride a cowboy.

Everybody says

Save a horse, Ride a cowboy" Taylor sang at him.

Danny swiped at her. "It had to be country," he muttered. He stopped, thought about something and turned to Taylor. "You still hungry?"

Taylor frowned, "Famished."

"Me and Stell are going to go to arrest Rico. You want to go get dinner after?"

Taylor nodded furiously, "Hell yeah," she bit her lip. "There's something I need to do first, and am I going to have to change?"

Danny looked at her and nodded. "We're going to Sam's Steakhouse."

Taylor frowned. "And how much is that going to cost me?"

Danny laughed, "I forgot you still owe me. We'll go Dutch on this one, Drew. Meet you at seven?" he asked her after giving her the directions.

"No problem," Taylor agreed.

Danny was about to walk out of the door when he stopped and turned around, "Thanks, Drew – I owe you."

Before Taylor could ask him what he owed her for, he had left, leaving her to clean up the papers.

. . .

The something Taylor had to do was have her cast removed. By all rights, it had been on for seven weeks – a week longer than Marty had said it had to be on, and she was dying to get the blasted thing off, if only to scratch at the skin beneath it.

She was on her way down the stairs when Stacie appeared. Taylor froze, her eyes darting around to see what could be used as a weapon, and what Taylor could use to protect herself from it. There was nothing. Thankfully for Taylor, Stacie did the last thing she expected. She fell to her knees, sobbing. "It was him."

Taylor bit her lip, "Dr Zimmer killed Jeana, didn't he?"

Stacie nodded.

"That was what you wanted me to find out."

Again, Stacie nodded, "He killed my baby."

Taylor sighed, "The detectives are reopening the case, but for now, Dr Zimmer is going to get his license revoked. It's not what you wanted, I know, and it could never replace a child."

"Thank you," Stacie muttered, before fading away.

Taylor sank to the steps and ran her cast free hand through her hair.

"Sorry Taylor," Maddy apologized as she appeared in front of her, accompanied by a white-clad Ben.

"What for?"

Maddy sighed and sat down next to her. "Nothing in this world is black and white. Stacie was an example of the grey."

Taylor looked sideways at her friend, "Since when are you using analogies?"

Maddy shrugged, "She wasn't good, and she wasn't evil. But what she did – it couldn't be justified to have someone with her."

"What she did? You mean, try to frame the man who killed her daughter, or commit suicide?"

Maddy bit her lip and looked away, "Both."

"Well, you need to tell the Powers That Be that their rules suck," Taylor informed her.

"Oh, that didn't come from the Powers That Be – that came from above their heads," Maddy quickly returned.

Taylor's head snapped round, "Huh?"

Maddy smacked her hand against her head, "I wasn't supposed to say that," she sighed. "Let's just say, it's not just in life that you have a corporate system."

"A corporate system?" Taylor repeated in disbelief. She shook her head. "You know what, I don't want to know," she told Maddy wearily.

Maddy nodded, "Ben wants to say thanks."

Taylor switched her attention to the other ghost.

"Thank you, Taylor."

"You're welcome," she smiled at him. The two ghosts vanished, leaving Taylor staring at the empty spot. She sighed and continued on her journey down.


	65. Proving A Point

_13/07/2006_

**Chapter 64: Proving A Point**

Taylor hurried home, glad to finally be rid of the cast and headed straight for the shower. She stood, soaking for as long as she could possibly get away with – she was going for curly hair – trying to understand the day's events. Time edged on and her brain still hadn't processed it, so she jumped out of the shower and peered into her closet.

One thing was for certain, as she pulled a floaty red halter-neck top on with a pair of tight, low cut jeans. She was looking forward to dinner with Danny, even if she was paying. She still hadn't eaten, and the last time she had had some fun had been long before her arm went into the cast. That and the fact she was dying to rib him about his 'cowboy' antics. Make-up, perfume and some dainty heels completed the ensemble as she dashed out of the door.

Twenty minutes later, the cab pulled up outside the relatively high class steak house Danny had picked out. Well, if she was being honest, she did owe him a few meals. Except, when she walked in and followed the maître to the table, it turned out Danny wasn't alone. She shot him a puzzled look as she sat down opposite Lindsay, who in return, was also giving Danny a confused look. Before any of them could say anything, the empty seat beside Taylor was taken by Flack.

"I know I agreed to dinner," Lindsay and Taylor both started at the same time, directed at Danny, but stopped.

"I figured we could all do with a break," Danny said, defensively.

Taylor glanced at Danny and Lindsay, sensing the awkwardness and shrugged, reaching for the menu. "Frankly Danny, so long as the biggest steak on the menu finds its way to a plate in front of me, I don't care." She looked up from the menu to find three sets of eyes staring disbelief. "I'm hungry – I haven't eaten all day… so sue me!"

Danny shifted in his chair and then finally rose to his feet, "I'm going to the bathroom."

Taylor dropped her menu, "I'm going too," she told Lindsay and Flack as she dashed after Danny.

"I thought it was girls who went to the bathroom together," Lindsay muttered, her voice betraying the hurt look she was hiding from her face.

Taylor caught up with Danny before he got to the bathroom, "Messer!" she growled at him.

Danny stopped in front of her, hunched his shoulders up and slowly turned around, "Yeah?"

Taylor smacked him upside the head, "You don't invite other people on a date, especially without your date knowing about it," she stormed at him. "When you said you owed me, this was not what I thought it was for!"

Danny winced, "I panicked."

"Panicked? From what? That Lindsay was going to jump you in the middle of a restaurant?"

Danny hung his head, "I didn't think she would say yes."

"So why did you ask her?" Taylor asked in exasperation.

"Because I thought that when she would say no and turn me down, I would be able to get her out of my head and move on."

Taylor's expression softened. "You've got it bad," she said slowly.

Danny sighed, "Yeah." He narrowed his eyes. "Tell anyone and I will kill you."

"Yeah, and I'll come back and haunt your ass," Taylor laughed. "Look, go back to the table, don't ignore her, and then insist on taking her home. You have to explain it to her."

"And what am I going to say, Drew?"

"The truth?" Taylor offered.

Danny shook his head. "I can't do that. I can't tell her how I feel."

"Danny," Taylor sighed, patiently. "What are you scared of?"

"That she'll feel the same way back," he mumbled.

"And that's bad, how?"

"Because she deserves better."

Taylor sighed, "I wish you'd get that stupid idea out of your head. She likes you, Danny. And she doesn't care whether or not you think she deserves better. You can't help who you fall for."

"No, but you can try and stop it if it's wrong."

"Fine," Taylor sighed. "But you are still going to walk her home. You at least owe her that." Danny nodded. "Right, I'll meet you back at the table."

. . .

Flack looked up as Taylor came back to the table, without Danny. "You don't have to come back separately, you know," he told her, instantly regretting it as the words came out of his mouth. Thankfully, from the confused look on Taylor's face, she hadn't caught his meaning. Instead of explaining, he buried his head into his menu.

"Have you decided what you're having?"

Flack looked up from the menu and stared blankly at Danny, who had returned a few minutes after Taylor and had asked the question. Truth be told, he was staring at the menu without even reading it – trying to avoid looking in Taylor's direction. He was almost convinced that she knew about the dream, and was wearing red intentionally. It was driving him wild. And the soft curls in her hair weren't helping either.

"Flack?"

Flack blinked. "Uh… the rib eye," he told him hastily, ignoring the look that Danny was sending in his direction.

"Don't tell me, tell Amber."

Flack blinked again.

Danny pointed to the waitress standing next to him. Flack groaned to himself. He hadn't even noticed. Damn Taylor. She was sitting there, staring at him, and all he wanted to do was something that would have got them both arrested for indecent exposure.

"Flack!" Danny called, kicking his leg under the table.

Flack let out a stream of cuss words, which thankfully never made it further than his head, instead giving the amused waitress his order.

Things hadn't changed by the time they were finishing their meal. Conversation had drifted from work, to Louie, to a multitude of things. Yet the only thing Flack had really noticed was, other than how beautiful Taylor looked, that it would soon be autumn, and with the end of summer, would come Fleet Week. Something Taylor was particularly looking forward to as her father would be visiting.

Before he knew it, the bill had been paid, Danny and Lindsay had walked off together, and Taylor was trying to flag down a cab. "I'll walk you," Flack blurted out, kicking himself mentally as he did. This was walking himself into dangerous territory.

Taylor cocked her head at him, and then frowned, "It's sending you in the wrong direction."

"Well, I'm not going to let you walk home by yourself," he shot at her.

Taylor shot him a puzzled look, "That's why I was getting a cab."

Flack was really giving his mind a good kick now. "Just let me walk you home," he told her, much sharper than he intended.

"Alright," Taylor agreed, still slightly confused.

The walk back was quiet. Taylor had tried to strike up conversation a few times, but after Flack had given monotone replies, she had given up, leaving Flack to mentally abuse his brain. It wasn't until they were nearly at Taylor's that he spoke properly. "You know, you always struck me as the jealous type."

Taylor stopped and turned to face him. "Huh?"

"Well, I always thought you'd be pretty possessive when it came to boyfriends," he shrugged. "But you've proved me wrong."

"Sorry, Flack, but I'm not on the same page here," Taylor frowned up at him. "Hell, I'm not even sure I'm reading the same book."

"You and Danny," Flack pressed.

Taylor frowned. "Me and Danny, what?"

"Well, you're letting him walk Lindsay home," Flack pointed out like he was stating the obvious.

Taylor snorted, "I'm not _letting_ him. I'm _making_ him. Lord knows he needs to make it up to her after that stunt he pulled."

"Stunt?" Flack repeated, blankly.

"Yeah, he finally gets around to asking her to dinner, and then chicken's out. Which is why we were there," Taylor added.

Flack quickly considered what she had said. "Hang on, he asked her to dinner?"

Taylor nodded, "The two of them were recreating some theory for the case you were working on, Lindsay bribed him with drinks, and he changed it to dinner. I wish I'd have seen it – apparently, he had her in his arms," she grinned.

Flack looked completely confused. "Why would he ask Lindsay to dinner?"

Taylor stared up at him, "What planet are you living on? He likes her."

"But he's dating you," Flack blurted out. Without missing a beat, Taylor turned and smacked him upside the head. "What the hell was that for?" Flack bellowed.

"For being such a… doofas!" she told him, hands on her hips as she glared at him. "And don't worry: Danny's going to get smacked again too. He was supposed to clear this up."

Flack flapped his mouth open and closed a few times. "But you've been on dates. You're the hottest couple since Tom and Katie, according to the lab gossip queens.

Taylor stared at him, mentally noting to herself to comment on his knowledge of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes another time. "You don't believe me? Do you? You believe the lab rats over me?"

"Stella said you kissed him," Flack added defensively.

Taylor had to think for a second about what he was referring to, "I kissed you, too."

"Not when you were seeing Danny."

Taylor glared at him, tempted to punch some sense into him, but tried something else instead. She stood on her tip toes, reached out, grabbed his face with both hands and pressed her lips against him. She could feel him jump, a little surprised. And then, his hands were in her hair, running down to the small of her back, pressing her to him. He sucked gently at her lower lip, before urging her lips to part – and then his tongue was in her mouth. _Oh, that tongue!_ Taylor could feel her knees weaken – it was like she was losing all sense of time.

Then the little voice in the back of her head piped up, urging her to break away. She did. "Oh, crap," she muttered, before, despite feeling dizzy, she turned and started to walk away.

Only, she didn't get far before Flack had grabbed her hand. "You can't just walk away after that," he told her as he spun her to face him.

Staring at the ground, unable to meet his eyes, she shook her head, "I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise – I'm not," Flack told her softly.

"I am," Taylor whispered, before pulling her hand free and dashing into her building, leaving a very hurt, and a very confused Flack standing in the street watching her rapidly retreating back.

Not even waiting for the elevator, Taylor headed straight for the stairs and ran. By the time she had reached her floor, the tears were streaming down her face.

"Taylor, what's the matter?" Marty asked her. He was in the kitchen fixing himself a drink as she burst in, and Taylor, being too upset to ask what he was doing home from work early, just shook her head and ran to her bedroom. Minutes later, there was a quiet knock at the door, and Marty entered, sitting himself down on the bed next to her. "Spill," he told her in a firm voice. Through the tears, Taylor gave him a more PG-13 version of events. "So what's the problem?" Marty asked her quietly, when she finished recounting what had happened.

"I like him," she admitted.

Marty frowned, "I'm failing to see the problem with that."

"You don't get it," Taylor told him miserably.

"Clearly," Marty agreed.

Taylor sighed, "I can't like him."

Marty pulled her into a hug. "Why not? I told you he likes you. I think he's clearly shown he likes you too."

"I can't get into a relationship with him, Marty."

Marty sighed, "I think you are going to have to explain this to me like I'm an idiot, because I still don't understand."

"The only thing we argue about, the _real_ thing we argue about, is ghosts."

"Taylor, every couple has something they don't agree over," Marty pointed out softly.

"I know that," Taylor moaned. "But it's not that he disagrees on the subject, it's that he thinks I'm crazy."

Marty managed a small smile, "I think you're crazy."

"Marty, you are not about three ghosts away from trying to get me committed to Bellevue Psychiatric ward," she cried. "He really thinks I make it up."

Marty shrugged. "It's not an easy thing to accept, Tay. And Mac and Lindsay don't believe it either."

"I'm not wanting a relationship with Mac or Lindsay!" she exclaimed. "And that's not the point."

"Then what is?" Marty asked her, slowly losing his patience.

Taylor shut her eyes and rested her head against Marty's shoulder. "You can't trust someone who thinks you're crazy."


	66. The Sharks Are Circling

_14/07/2006_

**Chapter 65: The Sharks Are Circling**

When Taylor stirred the following morning, she realised two things. Firstly, she was still in her clothes, and secondly, she wasn't alone. And she didn't mean Marty, who was asleep next to her, after they had spent most of the night talking.

Perched on the end of her bed, with a stupid smile on her face, was Maddy. Standing next to her was the reason for Maddy's insane grin. Taylor nearly had a heart attack. The ghost was tall, dark, with piercing blue eyes, and a very toned body – Flack.

"Oh my God!" she cried, reaching for her glasses. They were barely on before she thankfully realised that it wasn't him, only someone who looked like him.

Next to her, Marty woke with a start, "Wassthematter?" he slurred as he sat up. His mouth dropped open. "Is that?" he asked, pointing at the ghost.

Taylor shook her head. "It's not him, but…" Taylor's head whipped around, "You can see him?"

Marty looked at her and nodded slowly. "Every inch of him. Including a few inches I wasn't expecting to see first thing in a morning."

Taylor looked back at the body. She had been so focused on his face – making sure that he wasn't Flack – that she hadn't even paid attention to the rest of him. And she could indeed see the rest of him. He had a very toned, and very naked body. Taylor could feel the blood rushing to her face as she dropped her eyes and hid them behind her hand. "Oh dear lord," she muttered in embarrassment. She could hear Maddy sniggering and shot her a death glare. "Funny how you aren't embarrassed," she told her darkly. Maddy just smirked at her.

"I deal with naked bodies daily, Taylor," Marty told her, slightly confused.

Taylor shook her head, "I was talking to Maddy."

Marty's brow wrinkled further in confusion, "Maddy's here?"

Taylor nodded as she rubbed her temples – she could tell this was going to get very confusing, very quickly.

"Not bad is he? Looks pretty familiar too," Maddy wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, "So, does it _all_ look familiar?"

"I thought it was him. He looks too similar."

Maddy gave her a sly smirk. "Oh aye?"

"Mind out of the gutter!" Taylor exclaimed.

"Taylor, it's a guy. My mind is nowhere near a gutter. Trust me," Marty told her.

"I was talking to Maddy," she reassured him.

"So you're sleeping with Marty now?" Maddy asked her.

"I feel like I'm the ball in a tennis game," Taylor muttered. She held up her hands, stopping both Maddy and Marty who were both about to start talking. "This is too confusing for," she glanced at her clock. "7am in the morning?" she groaned. "Alright, let's deal with the ghost – the naked ghost."

"Well, I'm seeing signs a few nail scratches and bite marks," Marty noted.

Taylor glanced at the bruising and nodded. "And he's very clearly naked."

"Oh yeah," grinned Maddy.

Taylor rolled her eyes, "Well I'm thinking he died during sex."

"Kinky sex. Now that's a way to go," said both Marty and Maddy.

"You two really scare me, sometimes," Taylor muttered.

Marty grinned, "It could be worse. Well, John here has come to me, which means his COD isn't obvious. And I can't see any outwards sign of COD – I guess my job won't start until the body comes to rest in the morgue."

"How does he know he's called John?" Maddy asked.

"He doesn't," Taylor told her.

"Well I'm not about to perform an autopsy on a ghost, in the middle of your bed," said Marty.

"No, I was talking to Maddy," Taylor groaned. "Maddy, he called him John, as in John Doe. It's the name given to a dead body which hasn't been identified. Marty, surely the body will be processed by Sid?"

Marty shook his head. "Not if he's found in the next couple of hours, he won't. Sid has an appointment this afternoon, so he swapped with me last night. In fact, I'm due in at work in an hour, so it's a good job our ghost turned up when he did." He got to his feet and headed to the door. "Walk in together in half an hour?"

Taylor nodded and he left. She turned her attention back to the ghosts, being careful as to where she let her eyes rest.

"Help me," he requested.

Taylor nodded and looked at Maddy, "I know the ghosts usually appear as they died, but is there any chance you could find something for him to wear?"

Maddy rolled her eyes, "Sure. You just watch him whilst I nip into Hollister a grab him an outfit. Oh no, wait, we're dead."

Taylor pulled a face. "I don't see what the problem is – you're in a white suit. That wasn't what you were wearing when you were died."

"It's the last suit I'll ever wear." Maddy stopped and laughed. "And now I'm going to save the world from evil aliens." This time it was Taylor's turn to roll her eyes. "Look, it's not like we can get it dirty and need a new suit – we kind of just pass through the dirt. And don't ask me how the mechanics of that work."

Taylor sighed. "Alright, Agent M. Why don't you take Agent J and I'll get changed and find out if anyone has reported a homicide?"

Maddy grinned, "You're beginning to sound like your detective friends."

"Bye Maddy," Taylor emphasised.

. . .

Dressed in her usual attire, charcoal combats and a baby blue camisole, just under an hour later, Taylor and Marty parted. One going up and the other down, respectively. Taylor walked out onto the crime lab floor, heading straight for Mac's office. She found him outside of his office with a man she didn't recognise, but neither or them looked particularly happy. "Have you stopped returning phone calls?""

"I've been busy," Mac replied shortly.

"So I've heard," said the man. "My client, Mr. Pratt says he's being harassed by someone from your department."

_So he was an attorney, then?_

"DJ Pratt is a suspect in an ongoing criminal investigation, but I don't have anyone assigned to surveillance at this time," Mac informed him.

"Are you saying my client's making this up?" the lawyer asked in an accusatory tone.

"Your client's a rapist, counsellor."

Taylor frowned, completely confused as to what she had just walked in on.

"You've turned this into a personal vendetta, haven't you?" the attorney pressed.

"It's not a vendetta, it's my job," Mac corrected him.

_You tell him, Mac_, Taylor thought.

"Let me remind you of something, Detective. You've already gone down this road twice before, and both times you hit a dead end. In the first case your victim wouldn't testify, and second you had no evidence," the lawyer informed him.

"You know what they say about the third time," Taylor piped up – she couldn't just stand there and let this man have a go at Mac, even though Mac was more than perfectly capable of standing his own ground. Both men turned to look at her.

"I'm filing a civilian complaint of malicious prosecution," the attorney told Mac, after glaring at Taylor.

"You do that," Mac told him. "Are we done?"

"For now," the lawyer nodded.

"Good, then get the hell out of my building," Mac ordered, managing to keep his voice controlled and calm. The attorney gave him one last glare before walking off.

"Is everything alright?" Taylor asked.

Mac sighed, "Just one lawyer doing nothing to help clear the image that they are nothing more than sharks. Is there something I can help you with, Taylor?" he asked her, not answering her question.

Taylor noticed this, but didn't press. Mac wouldn't tell her anything if he didn't want to, anyway. "I don't suppose you have a new case involving someone who died naked?"

Mac gave her a funny look, "If it wasn't for the fact I actually do, I would be very worried about that question."

Taylor bit her lip, "Any chance I could tag along?"

"Is this the point where you tell me that another ghost turned up?" Mac asked wearily.

"Um, yeah?" she offered.

Mac sighed, "You wear glo-"

"Gloves, don't touch anything, and do exactly as I'm told," Taylor finished for him, reciting it as if it was a poem she had learnt at school.

Mac nodded. "We're meeting Flack and Lindsay there," he told her before setting off towards the elevator.

Taylor watched his back, feeling the small knot tighten in her stomach. She was hoping she could have gone a little longer in avoiding Flack. Trying to ignore that feeling, she followed after Mac.

. . .

John Doe was actually Scott Rivers and he was found in a hotel in Little Italy by Lucinda Garner when she woke up next to him. Short of looking upset, Lucinda seemed remarkably calm, her hair and make-up immaculate. She was dressed in an oyster silk robe, which really left little to the imagination, and was currently flirting with Flack who was interviewing her. "You have such a strong resemblance to Scott."

"How well did you know Scott?" Flack asked.

Lucinda shrugged, her robe slipping slightly. "Well enough to be intimate. Why? Would _you_ like to get to know me?" Mac coughed, and Lucinda threw what she clearly thought was a dazzling smile – well, perfect white teeth and it wasn't hard to not be a dazzling smile – turning her attention to the senior CSI. "Lucinda Garner," she held out her hand, which Mac took.

"Interesting scratch marks," he noted, taking the hand to stretch out the arm and look at the markings.

Lucinda shrugged, again her robe slipping, 'Scott is a very… fierce… lover. But don't worry – I left my own markings," she informed them with a coy smile.

"She hasn't stopped since we got here."

Taylor turned and found Lindsay standing just behind her, fingerprint dust in one hand, duster in the other. "She looks… fine, considering she awoke to find her lover dead next to her."

Lindsay nodded. "You should have seen her drape herself over Flack when we arrived."

"What is she claiming happened?" Taylor asked, curious.

"They got in the room around eleven, had something to drink, had sex, passed out. When she awoke in the morning, he was dead." Lindsay let out a sigh, "I hate printing hotels. There are so many prints, and usually, only a few will be of any use. I'm going to carry on."

Taylor nodded and stood back, watching as Mac and Lindsay processed the room, and Flack continued interviewing Lucinda. Maddy and Scott never appeared, but, to Taylor's dismay, the green-eyed monster did make an appearance.


	67. Uncanny Resemblances

_16/07/2006_

**Chapter 66: Uncanny Resemblances**

By the time lunch had rolled around, everyone was back from the crime scene. And not a moment too soon, in Taylor's eyes. The ghost of Scott hadn't reappeared, so all she had to do was watch Lucinda pour herself over Flack. Not that she could look at Flack… every time she did, her face got so warm, she was sure the fire alarms would go off.

Okay, so she had never actually seen Flack completely naked. But the resemblance between him and Scott was uncanny. Even Mac had mentioned something about it. And whenever Taylor looked at Flack, she just saw him naked. Not that that was a bad thing, but at the same time…

She, Mac and the detective himself had gone down to the morgue to see how Marty was getting on with the DB. And the first thing Taylor noticed was the frosty atmosphere that was radiating off her roommate and towards Flack. Fortunately, it seemed she was the only one to actually notice this.

"What have you got for us, Marty?" Mac asked.

Marty shrugged. "In all honesty, at this moment, very little."

Taylor caught his eye and frowned, to which Marty gave a very slight shake of his head. It seemed that neither of them had been revisited by Scott since he had awoken them earlier.

"No COD?" asked Mac.

"Well, I can tell you that it is something of the pulmonary nature." Marty pulled back Scott's lips to reveal his teeth and gums. "Fraenulum isn't torn and," he pulled back the eyelids. "There are Tardieu spots in the conjunctivae and eyelids."

"What does that mean?" Flack asked, beating Taylor to asking the question.

Instead of responding, Marty just gave him a frosty glare – something which Flack did pick up on this time. Taylor stole a glance at Flack, noting his confused expression – from Marty's behaviour, rather than from a lack of understanding of the COD. Flack looked over at Taylor, catching her looking, and gave her a look similar to the one Scott had given her. Taylor could feel the blood rushing to her face and quickly looked down.

"Are we talking asphyxiation? Sleep apnoea?" Mac asked.

"It's very hard to distinguish between an accidental from a homicide," Marty explained, trying to play devil's advocate. "The result of closing off the windpipe is the same."

"It was a murder," interjected Taylor. She could feel Flack giving her a sharp look, and her face flushed redder. "I wouldn't have had a visit from his ghost if it was suicide."

It was at that moment that Scott and Maddy chose to turn up, and as a result, Taylor didn't notice the pessimistic response Mac was giving her. Her attention was distracted by the fact the Flack doppelganger was still very much naked, and the fact he was holding a bottle of vodka in his hand. Something which at that moment in time, with Flack was standing just that little too close for comfort, Taylor could have done with a shot of.

Instead, she caught Marty's eye. "Tox report," they both said at the same time. Maddy and Scott disappeared, Maddy sending Taylor another sly grin before she did.

"Tox report?" Mac repeated looking between the two of them.

Marty coughed and nodded. "Jinx," he said to Taylor, quickly giving her a forced smile, "I was about to say that I'm going to send a sample off for the tox report."

Taylor returned the smile. "Great minds think alike, eh?"

Mac gave the two of them another look and shrugged. "Right, I'm going to see what Lindsay has gotten. Page me when the results come in." He gave Flack a look, who after watching Marty and Taylor suspiciously, he returned with a nod and followed him out of the morgue.

As the door closed behind them, Taylor let out a groan and leaned against the wall, allowing herself to slip down it and sit on the floor, her head resting on her knees. In front of her, Marty managed a chuckle. "You can let the blood return to the rest of your body now."

"Oh, this is not fair," Taylor muttered into her knees. "Why is it, everyone else doesn't have a problem with it, but whenever I see Flack, I'm picturing him naked?"

"Because you have a filthy mind," Marty offered.

Taylor looked up at him and glared, "Well, at least he wasn't getting death glares from me too."

Marty scowled, "I was not sending him death glares!"

"Marty, if looks could kill, I would be talking to his ghost right now. So don't even try to deny it."

"Taylor, I –"

Taylor quickly shook her head. "I don't want an explanation, Marty, just quit it."

"And this coming from the woman who is trying her hardest to ignore him," Marty retorted, less than amused.

"I have good reason to."

"What? That you like him?" Marty asked, pulling a face. "Well I pity the person you _don't_ like."

"Alright, so maybe I'm not quite ready to talk to him, but that's not why I'm trying to ignore him," Taylor huffed. "It's the fact that every time I look at him, it takes less time for me to mentally remove his clothes than it does to say 'ghost'."

Marty bit his lip, watching her in silence before finally speaking. "Maybe… maybe you should tell him this," he suggested quietly.

Taylor stared back at him. There was something in his eyes which she couldn't read and finally sighed, getting to her feet. "Maybe you're right," she muttered as she left.

. . .

Taylor found Lindsay in one of the evidence rooms analysing a pillow cover. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for a death mask," Lindsay told her, spraying a sheet of paper with some form of liquid and then pressing it down on the fabric.

"What's a death mask?" Taylor asked, sitting down opposite.

Lindsay pulled the paper away and re-sprayed it. It revealed a very eerie looking face. "It's what's left behind on something if it has been pressed against someone's face."

"So she suffocated him?" Taylor asked slowly.

"It looks like it," Lindsay nodded.

"I knew it," Taylor muttered.

"Can I ask you something?" Lindsay asked suddenly.

Taylor looked over cautiously, "What?"

Lindsay bit her lip, "Does… does Danny ever talk about me?"

"Um…" Taylor mimicked Lindsay in biting her lip – what was the right answer to that? "What do you mean?"

Lindsay sighed, "I don't know. He asked me out for dinner, and then you and Flack appeared, and then he walked me home… I don't know," she repeated, "I'm just getting so many different signals from him. I was just wondering, considering how close you too are, if he had said something to you."

"Well, I, uh...I can ask him, if you like?" Taylor suggested, not actually answering the question.

"Never mind," said Lindsay quickly. "I think I am just over-analyzing nothing." She pulled out her cell phone, "I think it's about time we had a little chat with Lucinda."

. . .

"You were at the crime scene earlier, weren't you?"

Taylor, who was standing in the elevator, pulled herself away from the wall she was leaning against, as Lucinda walked in and stared at her. Taylor stared back. Despite it being the middle of the day, Lucinda was dressed like she was about to go out. Ridiculously high heels, short skirt, tiny top, make-up and immaculate hair.

The only thing that stopped Taylor rolling her eyes at her was the fact she had just referred to the crime scene as a crime scene. Considering she had awoken to find the dead body of the man she had slept with next to her, she seemed to be taking this remarkably well. Instead, Taylor nodded at her. "Where is that cute detective?"

"The one that looks like your dead lover?" Taylor asked, maybe a little too icily.

Lucinda arched her perfect eyebrows at her, "Yes."

Refusing to lower herself and say the snarky little comment she was dying to, Taylor responded politely, "I suspect he is either on the thirty-eighth floor discussing the case with the CSIs, or, he's next door at his desk in the precinct, following a lead."

Lucinda nodded as the elevator doors pinged open. She stood, waiting expectantly. Taylor stepped past her, waiting until she was behind her to roll her eyes, and walked down the corridor. Sure enough, Flack was talking to Lindsay, just outside one of the layout rooms. They stopped when they noticed Taylor and Lucinda heading in their direction.

"Detective Flack," Lucinda purred.

Taylor managed to catch the appreciative look on Flack's face, before the mental image of Scott's ghost flickered into her mind, and she had to look away.

"Can I help you, ma'am?

"Please," she said, resting her hand on Flack's arm. "Call me Lucinda. You make me feel old."

"I'm glad you turned up," said Lindsay, "We have a few questions we would like to ask you."

"I suspected that would be the case," nodded Lucinda, barely taking her eyes of Flack, "I'm afraid I wasn't completely honest earlier."

Now, why wasn't Taylor surprised?

. . .

"So what is it you would like to tell us?" Lindsay asked Lucinda, as Taylor watched the interview from behind the mirror.

"Where would you like me to start?" Lucinda asked Flack. She was still barely registering Lindsay.

"How about with the scratch marks," Flack suggested, indicating to the scratches on her arms.

Lucinda smiled, "I have a very healthy sexual appetite," she told them, a slight smirk on her face. "And I have no trouble in expressing it during sex. And neither did Scott."

"Alright," said Lindsay as she pulled out a photograph of the death mask and laid it front of her. "Then how do you explain the death mask?"

"What's a death mask?" Lucinda asked Flack.

Lindsay slammed her hand on the photograph, "Ms Garner, I would appreciate it if you would acknowledge the both of us," she demanded as Lucinda jumped.

"What's a death mask?" Lucinda repeated, giving Lindsay an icy glare.

"It's what was left behind on the pillow you used to press down over Scott and suffocate him."

Lucinda smiled. "Is this what the problem is?" she asked.

"You have an explanation for it?"

'Scott… Scott liked me to hold it over him as he orgasmed. He said it heightened his sexual experience. So technically, yes, I did hold the pillow over his face, but I didn't kill him. I couldn't. He's far too strong for me anyway. It would have taken nothing for him to fling him off me."

Lindsay and Flack exchanged looks.

"Alright, Ms Garner," said Flack, "That's all we have for now.

. . .

She's lying," said Taylor later as her and Lindsay were sat at a computer. "And I don't need a ghost to tell me that."

"I found a motive," said Flack from the doorway. He walked in and leant against the desk, "I spoke to Scott's wife."

"Scott was married? But he had no ring."

"According to the wife, the two were having problems, but he didn't give any indication that there was another woman, nor that he was going to leave her."

Lindsay frowned, "We have a motive, but no evidence that she did it."

"So where does that leave us?" Flack asked her.

Lindsay smiled, "I think it leaves us with a little bit of role play. And the good news is that I'm going to need both of you."

Taylor looked at Lindsay, then to Flack, and, as she caught his eye, turned bright red. She looked away, hoping the role playing Lindsay had in mind was not what she thought it would be.


	68. Role Playing

_16/07/2006_

**Chapter 67: Role Playing**

"I'm sorry…? What!" Flack exclaimed.

"Just lie down on the floor," Lindsay pressed.

Taylor closed her eyes. There was that much blood rushing to her face she was sure that she could heat the city for the rest of the week. She could hear Flack grumbling, as he lay down on the floor.

"Right, now, Taylor, I want you to climb on top of him."

That was it. What she had been expecting and dreading Lindsay to say. "Why me?" Taylor squeaked, peaking her eyes open to look at Lindsay.

Lindsay rolled her eyes, "Well Flack is obviously the same size and height as the vic, and you're the closest match to Lucinda. And that makes it a fairer test then it would to use me. Now quit complaining and get on top of Flack."

Taylor let out a reluctant sigh and did as requested, easing herself slowly onto Flack's stomach.

"Well, what happened between you two last night?" Danny drawled from the doorway.

If looks could have killed, Taylor would have been standing trial for murdering Danny at that moment. "Is there something we can help you with, Messer?" she growled.

Danny smirked at her. "I came to ask Montana where she put the Rowher file, but I think I'll just watch whatever it is you two are up to."

"Trying to prove our suspect wrong," explained Lindsay as she filled Danny in, a smile playing across her face. Taylor shut her eyes, trying to look anywhere other than in front of her.

Danny laughed, "I don't know how you two normally have sex, but I'm pretty certain the angles are all wrong there."

Taylor could feel Flack shift uncomfortably beneath her. "Shut it, Messer," he told him.

"Can we just hurry this up," Taylor muttered.

"Don't tell me you have something better to do than sit on Flack all day, Tay?" Danny joked.

"Alright!" exclaimed Taylor as she started to get to her feet. "Forget it."

"Hey, hey, I was just joking," said Danny, holding his hands out.

"Come on, Taylor," Flack muttered beneath her, grabbing her hand, "Danny's just being Danny.

Taylor sighed, not wanting to tell him that the real reason she wanted to get off him was she was having really… naughty… mental images, thanks to the look-a-like. Instead she just settled back down. "Fine. What do you want me to do?"

Lindsay handed her a small inflatable ring. "Smother him." Flack and Taylor both stared at her. "Well, obviously don't _smother_ smother him. Just try. And Flack, you try and push her off. We're using a ring so that you can actually breathe."

"You know, this isn't what I had in mind when I agreed to this," Flack told her.

Taylor knew as soon as the look was shared between Lindsay and Danny that she wasn't going to like it.

"Well," said Lindsay, "If you really want to, you can role play the before, if you want?"

That was it: Taylor was now on trial for a double homicide.

"What are you talking about?"Flack asked. And then he realised exactly what Lindsay had been talking about. "Funny, Linds. How about we let you and Danny do that?"

Taylor shot Flack a glare as Lindsay and Danny shifted uncomfortably.

"How about you just hurry up and smother Flack," Danny told her.

Taylor shrugged and placed the ring over Flack so that his mouth and nose weren't covered. She tried hard to keep the ring in place, but before she knew it, he had knocked the ring out of her hands and flipped her over, pinning her underneath him.

Taylor stared up into his eyes, which had turned a darker shade of blue, and fought with herself, unsuccessfully, to not turn red.

Behind them, Danny cleared his throat and the two of them turned to face him. Danny was just standing there, grinning like a Cheshire cat, as Flack suddenly leapt up off her. "I think she's telling the truth," he said.

Lindsay sighed. "It does look like an accidental death."

"What if he was drunk?" Taylor asked, still lying on the floor. "As in plastered."

"Well, I suppose if he was really drunk, she could have pulled it off, no problem," Lindsay mused.

"Well, it turns out he was," said Marty, appearing in the room holding a folder. He looked down at Taylor. "Any reason why you're down there?"

"Lost a battle with gravity," she shrugged, causing Marty to grin at her.

"Toxicology report is back. Scott was nearly four times the legal limit."

"Drunk enough to be unconscious," smiled Taylor.

"How did you know that?" Lindsay asked her.

'Scott showed me?" Taylor offered.

"Taylor," Lindsay groaned.

. . .

"Taylor?" Mac called from behind her.

She had been following Lindsay and Flack to the interview room to watch them arrest Lucinda, when Mac had popped his head around the door to his office, calling down the corridor. All three of them stopped and turned, "Yes?" Taylor called back.

"Phone."

Taylor frowned, "What? Where?"

Mac looked at her. "Captain Turner?"

Taylor paled. "What's dad doing calling here? Is everything all right?"

Mac nodded,. "I think so. He seems a little angry though."

"What have I done?" she muttered to herself as she hurried over to Mac's office, letting Lindsay and Flack carry on without her. She hurried over to the phone.

"I'll leave you alone, Mac told her as he left, shutting the door behind him.

Taylor picked up the phone, "Dad? Is everything all right?"

"_You tell me? Why on earth are you at a crime lab?_"

"I kind of help here," Taylor admitted, shrugging.

"_Taylor, I have been trying to get hold of you all afternoon. Why aren't you answering your cell phone? And furthermore, what do you mean you help out with the crime lab? It was my understanding that you were a journalist and that didn't involve any reporting or undercover work._"

Taylor sighed, "I… it helps me with my column, dad."

"_Taylor, if I find out that you've gotten yourself into any trouble-_"

"Dad, I'm fine. I'm sorry about my cell. The battery must have died, or something. Why did you want me in the first place?"

"_I was calling to finalise the plans for this weekend. Are you still available to meet?_" he asked her.

Taylor nodded, and then realised that he couldn't see her. "Yes, sir."

"_0900 hours on the 29th. There will be a presentation being put on for the children by the marines. I will meet you by that._"

"Yes, sir," Taylor agreed, happily.

"_And we will finish this conversation off then._"

The smile fell from Taylor's face. "Yes, sir. I love you, daddy."

"_I love you too, sweetheart_"

Taylor listened to the click before she hung up herself and leant back in Mac's chair with a sigh. As she glanced around his office, looking at the various pictures and memorabilia from his days as a marine, her attention was caught by some pictures attached to one of his glass walls.

She got up and made her way over. They were of cold cases, by the looks of things. Cold cases of unsolved rapes. Clearly the attorney from this morning had stuck a cord with Mac. She was busy noting how there was a lack of evidence in the cases when Mac walked back in.

"Unsolved rape cases," Mac told her.

Taylor nodded. "What made you look into them?"

"Mac sighed. "If I can't solve a case, it goes onto a pile on my desk," he told her, indicating to the corner of his desk, where, sure enough, there were about ten or so eggshell files. "One of those was a rape case from a year ago."

"I this anything to do with the attorney who was hassling you this morning?" Taylor asked, carefully, not wanting to upset him.

Mac nodded. "His client is a suspect in that case."

"Mac, if you don't mind me asking, why is this case so important to you?" Taylor continued.

"I made a promise, and I want to keep it." He frowned, but continued. "This case here," he pointed to a woman in one of the photos. "This made its way to my desk two days ago."

"You think it's that Pratt guy?"

Mac nodded, "I do. I just don't have any substantial evidence to prove it."

Behind them, there was a knock on the door. It was Adam, carrying a stack of files. "These are the DNA results from all the open rape cases in the city. None of them come back to DJ Pratt, but there are five cases where the evidence was either degraded or nonexistent. One has a similar MO."

Mac frowned. "Maybe Pratt, but maybe not. You can leave those, thanks, Adam," he told him, pointing to his desk. "Good night."

Adam turned to leave, but paused in the doorway. "You're going to catch this guy – I know it. Good night."

"Goodnight," Taylor and Mac called as he left.

Taylor laid her hand on Mac's shoulder. "He's right, you know. You'll get him. I know you will."

"Thank you, Taylor."

Taylor smiled, "I mean it."

"I know you do. Good night."

"Night, Mac. Don't stay up all night."

. . .

Taylor was at her locker, grabbing her things, when Maddy and Scott made an appearance. This time, thankfully, Scott was fully dressed in white. "Thanks," he told her. "And, um, sorry."

Taylor blushed, "It's not your fault. People don't die fully clothed all the time."

"That's true," Scott agreed, "But it couldn't have helped when I looked like the guy you like."

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "Who said I liked him?" Scott jabbed a thumb in Maddy's direction. "If you weren't dead-" Taylor growled at her friend.

"I would be having words with Detective Flack, so don't give me that," Maddy shot back.

"However, that's not why I was apologising," Scott interrupted.

Taylor looked suspiciously at him, but before she could ask him what he was talking about, he had received a nasty jab in the side from Maddy.

"And on that note, we're leaving," said Maddy hurriedly.

"Wait, what do you mean by that?" But it was too late – they were gone. Taylor sighed – she was certain life wasn't about to get any easier any time soon. She shut her locker, when she heard her cell phone ringing. She opened the door back up and found it in the bottom of the locker, complete with several missed calls – so that was why she hadn't heard it ringing.

She glanced down at the caller ID and frowned – it was Flack. "Hello."

"_Hi Taylor… it's Flack… Don… Flack_."

"Hello Flack Don Flack." The frown was in no hurry to leave her face – what was wrong with him? He was acting weird.

"_Uh, it's Flack."_

"Yeah, we established that," Taylor nodded. "What's the matter?"

"_Um, I was wondering, could you come and meet me?_"

"Why?" she asked, suspiciously.

"_I, uh… can you just come to the diner on the corner of 62nd?" _Taylor shrugged, even though Flack couldn't see it, but before she could either agree or disagree, he had hung up on her.

Taylor stared at the phone and headed out, calling her voicemail on the way to the diner to listen to the numerous, none-too-happy messages left by her father.

. . .

Taylor walked into the diner. Flack wasn't hard to find, and that wasn't because of his height. He was the only person in there with the exception of the waitress. Taylor walked over to his booth and slid in opposite. "Hi, Flack Don Flack," she greeted him, dumping her purse on the table.

Flack looked at it, and pushed it to one side, before sliding a slice of pie in front of her. "Want some pie?"

Taylor picked up a fork. "My father called," she told him stabbing at the pie venomously.

"You want anything to eat, sweetie?" asked the waitress as she came over to fill up Flack's mug of coffee.

"Pepsi, no ice, a piece of pie, and a cheeseburger with no relish with fries."

"Hungry?" Flack asked her as the waitress left.

"I haven't eaten since breakfast." She paused, "I didn't eat breakfast. I haven't eaten since, oh I don't know." She sighed, "Dad's mad at me. He wants me to quit and get a job-"

"Where you're less likely to get into trouble, shot, stabbed or strangled," Flack finished, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Don't tell me he managed to find your number as well as Mac's?" Taylor asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"No, but I kind of agree with him." Taylor stared at him. "You have this inane ability to wind up getting hurt, and one of these days, it will be serious."

Taylor dropped the fork. "You know, this was stupid. I'm sorry I called you and dragged you down here," she told him, as she started to leave the booth.

Flack reached over and grabbed her arm, "I asked you here."

"Yeah, why did you ask me here?" she asked as she sat back down and glared at him. "You wanted to tell me I'm a hazard and I should quit my job?"

"Look at me and tell me what you see." Flack told her looking down at the mashed up pie.

"Huh?" Taylor blinked.

"Notice anything different?"

Taylor frowned and surveyed the detective sat in front of her. "Hair cut, some new products in it, clean suit, new tie?" She leant over and looked at his shoes, "Whoa, uber shiny shoes. Oh," she said, a look of understanding washing over her, "You're here on a date." She looked around the empty diner. "Why have you bought me here to meet your date? Do you need a female's approval? Speaking of, is she in the bathroom?" Flack shook his head. "Then where is… oh… I'm your date?" She realized as Flack finally brought his eyes up to meet hers.

"I was kinda hoping so, yeah," he told her, looking at her hopefully.

Taylor sighed and opened her mouth to say something, when her cell phone rang. "Hold that thought," she told him, pulling her phone out and flicking it open, "Hello?"

"_Taylor… it's Danny_."

Taylor knew as soon as he said her name something was wrong. "Danny?"

"_Its Louie, he's… the doctors…"_

"Danny, calm down. I'll be right there." She hung up and got to her feet. "That was Danny," she told Flack. "There's something wrong with Louie."

Flack once again reached out and grabbed her arm, "I'll give you a ride." Taylor nodded and followed him out to his car. "You know," said Flack, after driving for several minutes in silence. "You didn't answer the question."

Taylor leant back with a frown. "What question?"

Flack sighed. "Alright, I didn't actually ask you a question, but I… the date?" Trying to find something to do, he turned his washers on, cleaning the already clean windshield. "I like you, Taylor. It's taken me a while to admit it, but I do. And I think you like me too, if the kiss the other night was anything to go by."

Taylor bit her lip and stared at him. She had been hoping that the subject of the kiss wouldn't have to be brought up.

"Well, now would be a good time to say something," he told her, shifting uncomfortably.

"I don't think it would work," she told him quietly.

Flack shifted again. "That wasn't the response I was expecting," he frowned, "How can you say that when you haven't given it a chance? Don't you like me?"

Taylor sighed, "I'm not saying that. I do like you – although I never thought you liked me. But it wouldn't work."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because you can't build a relationship without trust."

Flack frowned, "You don't trust me?"

"I guess not," Taylor admitted miserably as she stared out of the window. "But you don't trust me, either."

Flack came to an unnecessarily abrupt stop in a parking spot outside of the hospital. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"You can't have a relationship when there's no trust," she repeated. "And you can't trust someone you think is crazy, like you can't trust someone who thinks _you_ are crazy."

"I don't think you are crazy," Flack quickly told her.

Taylor arched an eyebrow at him. "So you believe I can see ghosts?" she asked him, directly.

Flack sighed. "No, but-"

"There are no buts, Flack. You either trust me on that, or you don't. And you don't," she sighed back at him. "Look, I do like you, and maybe we could have some fun, but I'm not after fun. And for there to be anything serious, there has to be that trust." She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. "I'm sorry, Flack… Don… and I really hope that one day you'll believe me, regardless of our… feelings for each other."

She got out of his car and hurried into the hospital before he could see the tears in her eyes. That had been a lot more painful than she had been anticipating.


	69. Captain Jack Turner

_Spoliers for 2x23: Heroes_

_17/07/2006_

**Chapter 68: Captain Jack Turner**

Standing in front of her mirror, Taylor was exhausted after spending the last six nights at the hospital with Danny. Louie was finally doing better, but he had once again slipped into a coma. The doctors were hopeful he was going to reawaken – it was just his body's way of shutting down to recover. She couldn't remember how the doctor had worded it, as she had been awake for the best part of fifty hours when he had.

Mr and Mrs Messer had brought a couple of things with them and were currently staying in Danny's apartment, closer to the hospital. The night before, as she was sat with him and his unconscious brother, Danny had confessed he was going to have to get back to work. Sitting around just waiting, was slowly killing him – he needed something to occupy his time.

Currently, she was running her hands through her wavy hair, and despite the fatigue which wracked her body, she was both happy and excited. Her father's ship had docked in New York for Fleet Week, rather than California, and he had called her the night before requesting she meet him at Central Park for families day.

The weather was still warm enough for a short, black gypsy skirt and a red gypsy top – despite the Italian heritage, she was looking very gypsy like, what with the tan and dark hair. She practically skipped her way in the sun, to the Park. It had been the best part of six years – graduation from college – when she had last seen her father.

He wasn't hard to find. He was a good head taller than most, measuring in at six foot, five inches, and unlike the Navy men around him, who were in their off duty uniforms, he was fully dressed in his navy blue captain's uniform, several medals adorning his chest, and his shoes so shiny you could see your reflection in him.

"Daddy!" Taylor yelled excitedly, launching herself at him.

Captain Jack Turner wrapped his arms tightly around his baby daughter and kissed the top of her head. He hugged her tightly before stepping back. "Let me get a look at you." Taylor grinned and twirled. Captain Turner smiled happily. "You are turning into a beautiful young woman," he told her. "You look so much like your mother when I met her." He grasped at her hand and the two of them started walking. "Speaking of your mother, she has requested that I ask you why you are not married yet?" he asked her, a twinkle in his eye. Taylor grinned back at him. "I haven't seen you in six years and she's still asking about that," he chuckled.

"Still? Try weekly," Taylor added, rolling her eyes.

"Now Taylor," he chided. "You know what she's like. She gets it off _her_ mother." He frowned. "You do realise that if she were a cop, she would run a background check on any potential suitor, not that not being would stop her from trying."

Taylor pulled a face. "Did you just say, suitor?"

Captain Taylor smiled, "I'm an old fashioned man. Forgive me."

Taylor squeezed his hand. "How long are you here for?"

"Unfortunately, just until early tomorrow evening, when I have to leave for D.C."

"But it's Fleet Week, Daddy," she pouted.

"I'm sorry, Taylor. I tried to talk them out of it."

Taylor sighed. "Are they stationing you back in the Middle East?"

Captain Turner sighed, a gesture so similar to Taylor's, it was clear they were related. "It looks like it." He hugged Taylor. "Now, enough of that," he said in reference to her disappointed face. "Tell me what you've been up to."

Taylor had just filled him in on her job at the paper, Maddy's death, helping the CSI's, even about Louie, and was about to attempt to tell him about seeing ghosts when she was prevented from doing so by a scream.

Captain Turner leapt to his feet, like many of the military personnel around him, and dashed off in the direction of the scream. Ignoring her father's requests that she stay where she was, Taylor dashed after him, pulling her phone from her pocket.

. . .

"Trevor Price," said Taylor glumly, as she was joined at the dead marine's side by Mac and Danny.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Danny muttered, a grin on his face, "Don't tell me you play Ghostbusters on the weekend?"

Taylor threw him a withering look. "The ghosts don't seem to know the concept of nine to five, Messer. And no, I wasn't visited by his ghost. I was enjoying Fleet Week."

"So you decided to give up your time with your father to play Nancy Drew?"

"Daniel," Taylor hissed. "Less of the Drew, okay? If my dad hears you he'll kill me!"

Danny nodded and turned his attention back to the body. "He's not in his cami's," he noted, telling Mac, who had been watching the exchange with an amused expression on his face.

"It's his dress Blue Delta uniform, off duty clothes," said Taylor, as Mac nodded at her. "My father taught me," Taylor offered by way of explanation.

"Which means he's not part of the demonstration drills going on today," said Mac.

Danny crouched down next to the victim. "Single stab wound to the chest, single drop of blood on his sleeve," he said, pointing at the blood drop. He frowned and looked up at Mac. "You know, he's off the path. This doesn't look like a short cut so I'm guessing that he was dragged into the bushes."

Mac leant over and looked at the marine. "This marine's seen action. Global War on Terrorism Service medal, Navy and Marine Corp Achievement medal with Combat Action ribbon, and an Iraqi Campaign ribbon. He's been overseas."

"Just returned home from active duty," agreed Captain Turner as he appeared from behind. Mac stood upright and shook his hand. "He was a marine on my ship, Detective. I would appreciate being kept in the loop on this one."

Mac nodded. "That won't be a problem."

"I have just put in a call: members of the NCIS will be here shortly."

"With all due respect, sir," said Mac. "We can handle this without the Navy Criminalists."

"It is a military matter," Captain Turner argued. "And Jethro Gibbs is one of the best in the business."

"Dad," Taylor spoke up. "Give the New York crime lab a chance, first. They're good."

Captain Turner stared at his daughter and pursed his lips. "Very well," he said, finally. "But this man was a hero. If his murderer is not caught, I will be bringing the NCIS in on this." He pulled out his cell phone and walked away, presumably to call Gibbs.

"Thank you, Taylor," said Mac.

Taylor shrugged, "I don't doubt the skills of the NCIS, but I know your skills. Dad's right – he was a hero."

Mac sighed. "And this is how we welcome him home: ambush in Central Park." He looked like he was going to say something else, but something about corporal Price caught his attention. "Something's not right. His shirt is tucked in, his pants are creased. No abrasions on his knuckles, no dirt under his nails."

"That means there wasn't a struggle, right?" Taylor asked.

Danny nodded. "It's usually a good indication, yeah."

"Corporal Price was a decorated marine trained in combat. So why didn't he fight for his life?" Mac mused.

. . .

A short time later and Captain Turner returned to the group. "Gibbs is currently in Panama City, investigating a death there, so he isn't available until the end of the weekend."

Mac nodded, "Thank you, but I hope to have this wrapped up by then."

Captain Turner nodded, "If you will excuse me, I need to talk to his commanding officer, and ensure his family are informed. Taylor?"

Taylor looked over at him, "Yes, sir?"

"Are you coming with me?" Taylor nodded. "I'll be leaving in five minutes." He walked off back in the direction of where the displays were being held.

Danny passed him on his way back to Taylor and Mac. "Found blood up on the path, Mac. Gravitational drops."

Mac crouched down next to the body and stuck the thermometer into the liver. "Body temp's 82.1. He's been dead roughly eleven hours. TOD around midnight."

"Um, there's more blood," said Taylor pointing to the ground next to her.

Danny walked over and dropped down for a closer look. "Directional drops leading away from the body."

"We've swept the area twice, Mac," said Flack, appearing in between the trees. "Killer didn't dump the weapon." He stopped when he noticed Taylor, contemplated saying something, but decided against it. "Unfortunately, lowlifes know it's Fleet Week, also," he continued. "Service men are easy targets because they're easy to spot."

Mac scowled, "A uniform isn't a bulls-eye – it's a badge of honour."

Flack nodded. "Once a marine, always a marine."

"If you attack one of us," Mac started.

"You've attacked us all," Taylor finished, earning three strange looks. She shrugged. "Daddy's girl." She glanced at her watch and sighed. "Much as I'd love to stick around, my dad is around for another thirty eight hours, and this is already going to take up a lot of his time, so excuse me whilst I be selfish and go spend some time with him." She gave the three detectives smiles and set off in the direction her father had gone – he was a stickler for punctuality.


	70. One Of Our Own

_Spoilers for 2x23: Heroes_

_17/07/2006_

**Chapter 69: One Of Our Own**

Taylor had returned with her father to the USS Nimitz, the ship he was now practically in charge of, but he had disappeared into his office instantly, leaving Taylor to wander the decks. For the most part, she didn't recognise any of the seamen onboard, but they seemed to recognise her, as none of them asked what she was doing there and let her be. She was stood right at the hull, staring out at the sea when she sensed someone behind her. Expecting her father, she was very surprised to find Maddy accompanied by a beautiful Latino woman. "Oh!" Taylor exclaimed.

"Hi Tay," said Maddy quietly. "How's the captain?"

Taylor frowned. "Busy dealing with a dead marine. Who's this?" she asked indicating to the ghost, who was showing no clear sign of COD, and yet, felt oddly familiar. Taylor racked her brain trying to work out why she felt she knew who she was, but drew a blank.

Maddy shrugged.

"I need you to help them get him for me," the other ghost told her.

Taylor nodded and froze as bruises appeared over the ghost, her body jerking as if some invisible force was attacking her, and yet, plastered on her face was a grin the Cheshire Cat would have been proud of. Taylor was about to tell Maddy to do something, when the ghost lit up in flames, charring her beautiful features away. A few minutes later, and she was charred beyond recognition.

Only one thing stood out against the black – her white, still grinning, teeth. The now charred ghost held out her hand and showed Taylor a gold police badge.

Taylor turned around and threw up over the side of the ship. She had never witness anything so horrific or violent in her life. It seemed so real that she could still smell the burnt flesh. Just the thought of it made her throw up again. When her stomach was empty, she wiped away her tears and turned back around. Both ghosts had gone.

Taylor wiped her mouth and shut her eyes. This was the first time she had seen her father for the best part of six years, yet she knew she had to help the officer. She hurried inside to tell her father that she was going to the crime lab.

. . .

She had found Mac on the deck, talking to Captain Flood and waited for him to finish talking to him before she had joined him. "Hi, Mac."

"Taylor?" Mac questioned, taking in her pale face.

Taylor sighed, "Look, I… I need a favour."

"What's the matter?"

"I know you are busy with this case, and I know you don't believe me, but I was visited by ghost, and I'm sure she was a cop, and because you're busy, I was hoping that you'd just let me run through the police database and try and find out who she is, and if it comes to nothing, I'll leave it, but Mac, I saw how she died, and-"

"Taylor," said Mac sharply, cutting her off. "For some reason you seem agitated by this, so you can check the database. But I can't waste manpower on this if it is nothing more than a whim."

"Mac, trust me when I say, I never want to see what I saw, again, and on top of that, my dad is here until tomorrow evening. I'd rather be spending my time with him, but this ghost…"

Mac nodded and led her to his SUV, giving her a lift to the crime lab.

Taylor headed straight upstairs to the computer and brought up the police files, the image of the ghost still burned to her mind. She fought with her stomach at her poor choice of phrase, but managed to stay seated. It was mid afternoon when she found a match.

Aiden Marie Burn.

DOB, 12-28-76

Red Hook, Brooklyn, NY.

As Taylor's eyes read the note explaining how she had been fired from Mac's team of CSIs only weeks before she had seen her first ghost, for tampering with evidence, everything began to fall into place. She was Aiden. _The_ Aiden. Danny's best friend Aiden. The woman who had been in Flack's photograph.

Taylor's head only just made it to the metal trash can as she threw up again. She was one of them. And now Taylor had to go deliver the bad news.

She grabbed a print out and dashed out of the door, charging down the corridor to Mac's office, which she stormed into, without knocking. Mac glared at her impatiently, "Taylor-"

"It's Aiden, Mac. Aiden Burn. The ghost I saw was Aiden Burn," she told him, slapping the print out on the table.

Mac looked from her to it. Without a word, he walked out of his office and straight to the AV lab, Taylor on his heels.

Inside, Hawkes was using the FASTSCAN, looking visibly disturbed. "Mac!" he cried as he spotted him.

"What have you got?"

Hawkes shook his head. "That is a sketch of the female victim from the burnt Cadillac,." He pulled up the image on the left of the three screens. "This is a FASTSCAN image." He pulled it up on the right hand screen.

"FASTSCAN is a digital representation," Mac said slowly, still not ready to believe the evidence in front of him. "The resulting image is not a hundred percent accurate."

"That's a scale photo of the skull," said Hawkes, pulling it up on the centre screen. "This is the photo I pulled from the official NYPD file." He pulled the image over the skull – it fit perfectly. "It's her, Mac."

"Aiden," Mac admitted, quietly.

He looked from the screen to Taylor and sighed.

. . .

Twenty minutes later, after receiving a very cryptic message, Stella, Lindsay and Danny had joined them in the AV lab. Stella was staring in horror at the image blaring at her on the screen. Taylor turned her attention, discreetly, to Danny. As a solitary tear escaped his red rimmed eyes, he turned and stormed out of the lab.

"We're going to get the son of a bitch who did this," said Stella, the determination shining through the tears.

Taylor turned to Lindsay, ignoring the rest of the conversation, who gave her a nod of the head you go.

Taylor complied and left, heading straight for the men's bathroom. She walked straight in, praying her assumption was right – thankfully it was. The only person in there was Danny, his phone to his ear.

"Aid, it's Danny. Are you there? I need you to pick up."

"Danny," Taylor spoke softly."

"Pick up the phone, Aid."

"Danny!"

"Aiden, pick up the damn phone. This isn't funny!" Taylor bit her lip and pulled the phone from him, snapping it shut. "What are you doing?" Danny snapped, snatching the phone back and flipping it open. "Aiden, it's me. I tried you at home, but… look I need to speak to you urgently. If this is some wind up on your part, it isn't funny, so stop pissing around and answer the fucking phone." His voice broke and he crumpled back against the wall. "Why isn't she answering?" he sobbed, as Taylor wrapped her arms around him.

"Danny, I'm sorry," she whispered.

"She's not dead – she can't be!" Danny pulled away and looked at her pleadingly.

Taylor's heart broke – seeing her friend like this was agony. "Oh, Danny," she murmured, pulling him back to her.

As she rubbed his back, Aiden and Maddy appeared. Taylor bit her lip and prayed that Danny wouldn't sense her, like he had with Hunter Hudson. He didn't. Even when Aiden just grinned at her as her body was beaten and seemingly spontaneously combusted. "I need you to help them get him for me," Aiden told her before disappearing. Maddy gave her a sympathetic smile and disappeared, following after Aiden.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, trying to give Danny as much support as she could, but her leg had cramped up. Finally, Danny seemed to reanimate and shook his head.

"I.." he started, searching for the words.

"Come on," said Taylor, saving him. "Can you remember the trouble we got into the last time we were in a bathroom together?" Danny managed a weak smile as he followed Taylor out.

It took him three minutes to find out that they already had a suspect in for questioning. Taylor spotted Mac heading out of the interview room moments after Danny had started charging at him. She froze, watching as Danny's rage took over him. "Mac, is this him? Is this the scumbag that killed Aiden?"

Mac grabbed him, restraining him, "Danny, get out of here." Taylor could hear the tears in his voice.

"Just let me talk to him for a minute. I will get him to crack, I promise you." Taylor found her feet and ran over, grabbing Danny's arms and pulling him back, taking over Mac in the restraining.

"How! By tuning him up? Stella's got the case. She knows what to do."

"This is Aiden. She's one of our own, Mac!" he cried, in a strangled voice.

"That's why we can't make any mistakes. We do this one by the book. Understand?" Mac told him, firmly.

"I just want to help," his voice was becoming more and more choked up.

"I know. Me too," Mac sighed. He turned to Taylor. "Get him out of here."

Taylor nodded, grabbed Danny's hand, and pulled him into the first available, empty layout room.


	71. Ever Grinning

_Spoilers for 2x23: Heroes_

_20/07/2006_

**Chapter 70: Ever Grinning**

It had taken quite a while for Danny to calm down and stop pacing the layout room. Several people had been in to offer their condolences, but when one of the office gossips had come in, Taylor had turfed her out and slammed the door shut behind her.

Currently, Taylor was standing in from of the doorway, guarding over Danny, who was processing Corporal Price's clothing. There was a quiet rap at the door, and Taylor whipped around ready to bite the head off the next lab tech who walked through the door. She stopped suddenly when she realized it was Flack, before jumping out of the way to allow him to enter the room. "Hey," he greeted them both.

Taylor smiled sadly at him.

"You hear anything on your end? Regarding Aiden's case?" Danny asked, looking up from his work.

Flack shook his head. "Nothing new. Just, rumours."

Danny managed a grin as Taylor and Flack walked over. "We were supposed to have dinner this weekend. Actually, I was hoping she would offer to cook."

"She know her way around the kitchen?" Flack asked in surprise.

"She made a phenomenal chicken parm."

Taylor sighed sadly, wishing there was something she could do. Realizing there wasn't, she just sat down opposite Danny.

"Alright, listen to me," said Flack, quickly changing the subject. "I reached out to Corporal Price's family. He had an older brother. Now, as far as his brother knew, our vic didn't know anyone in the city."

Danny gave him a grateful look and got to his feet, "I found this in his pocket," he told him, pulling out an evidence bag with a watch in.

"Why wasn't he wearing it?" Taylor asked.

Danny shrugged, "I don't know. But check out the back."

Flack, who was closest, turned the watch over and read out the inscription which had been engraved onto the back, "'I'm your girl, Ellie'. I spoke to every marine in Price's platoon. No one mentioned a girlfriend."

"That's just one of the many mysteries, Flack. Check this out," he picked up one of the trouser legs and held it up to show them a stain. "Exhibit A – stain on his pants."

Flack leant over and peered at it. "It's not blood."

Danny shook his head. "Nah, it's not biological, but I don't know what it is. Same as this," he put the leg down and picked up a shoe.

"Shoes are immaculately polished, so the scuff mark is out of place," noted Flack, pointing to the incriminating mark.

Danny smiled. "Yeah. But not as out of place as this." He held up another evidence bag.

"A lima bean?" asked Taylor, completely baffled.

"Yeah, a lima bean. Dried. One of them. Found it in his pocket. What the hell's that about?" Danny asked them.

Flack took it off him. "Depends. Could be nothing. Could be a major break in the case. Find any cash in his pockets?"

"Nothing. Pockets weren't turned out, so I don't think this was a robbery."

"No," Flack shook his head, "I don't think it was a robbery, either. I think it was a fleecing."

As it dawned on Taylor just what Flack was talking about, Danny marched straight out of the door muttering something about heading straight onto the streets to look for the guy.

Taylor sighed and started to follow him, but was stopped by Flack who had gently grabbed hand. Taylor looked from hand to him questioningly. Flack gently shook his head. "He'll be fine. I think he just needs some time alone."

Taylor frowned. "You didn't just see the way he reacted when Mac brought a suspect in."

"No, but I know Danny. If he'd have wanted us to come with him, he'd have waited."

Taylor nodded. "You're right, she sighed, glancing behind him.

"Look, Taylor," Flack started. But Taylor's attention was caught by the flaming ghost of Aiden.

When the burning stopped, she held out her hand, showing her a key. "You have to help them get him for me."

Ignoring the churning sensation in her stomach, Taylor frowned, and also ignoring Flack, took a step around him towards Aiden. Only just as she worked out it was a house key, Aiden disappeared.

"Taylor? Are you listening?"

"Huh?" Taylor turned back to him and blinked. Flack started to open his mouth to repeat what he had said, but Taylor shook her head, "I… I, uh, need to go," she said slowly, before turning and leaving.

She managed to keep her stomach under control in order to make it to Mac's office, where he and Stella were looking at photographs. She tapped softly on the glass door as she walked in. "Hey," she said, just as softly as the knock had been.

"Come in, Taylor. What's the matter?" Mac asked, almost wearily.

"Have you been around to Aiden's apartment yet?" Taylor asked carefully.

Both Mac and Stella gave her a piercing look. "Taylor, I'm not sure you going with us would be such a good idea," Mac informed her.

Taylor bit her lip, "Well, all things considered, next to Lindsay, I'm probably the most impartial person you have here."

"You're also the one most likely to compromise the case, Taylor. You're not a CSI. I've not put Danny on this because I'm concerned he'll compromise it," Mac sighed. "We need to get him, Taylor. I can't risk even the slightest slip-up."

It was Stella who came to her defence. "But Mac, surely we need all the help we can get. He's escaped us too many times before."

Mac nodded. "That may be the case, but I'm not risking it, Stella. And that's final.

Taylor was slightly stunned. Sure, she was certain that that was the first time she'd witnessed Mac have the final word when it came to Stella. Sure, she wasn't daft enough to think that the first time, though. But much as she was reluctant to admit it, Mac was right. And the last thing she wanted to do was cause any further upset. So, she just nodded.

Stella seemed to realise this too and changed the subject. "When was the last time you saw her?" she asked Mac.

"We spoke on the phone about a month ago. You?"

"Just last week, by chance. She never called. I never called her either. All I had to do was pick up the phone. We have no idea what was going on in her life."

"Let's go find out," Mac turned to Taylor, "Taylor, I think the best thing you can do now is keep an eye on Danny."

Taylor nodded and watched as the two left together.

. . .

Taylor sent Danny a text, asking him to come and find her once he got back, and headed straight to the break room, grabbing herself a glass of water. Somewhat unsurprisingly, she wasn't feeling all that hungry, despite the fact it was getting towards late afternoon. She sank onto the couch, head in her hands and sighed.

"You alright?"

Taylor looked up and found Lindsay in the doorway. She gave her a weak smile, "Yeah, I'll be fine. How are you doing?"

Lindsay shrugged, "I'm fine. I'm not one who knew her. I just feel so helpless. It was Pratt, and there was nothing I can do about it."

Taylor nodded, "I know the feeling.

"How's Danny?" Lindsay asked as she came and sat down next to her.

Taylor let out a long breath. "Not as good as he's making out. All this with Louie, and now Aiden…"

"He was close to her."

Taylor looked at her. "We crossed paths at the hospital, but Danny never even mentioned her to me."

"You weren't her replacement," Lindsay informed her, glumly.

Taylor shook her head. "Stop that. You're not seen as a replacement.

"I know that. It's just… oh, I don't know. I think this case is getting to me."

"Linds, it's getting to everyone. Just, do your best."

"You sound like my mother," Lindsay told her with a small grin. She got to her feet. "But, you're right. There's got to be something we missed."

Taylor smiled up at her. "Go get 'em, cowgirl."

Lindsay gave her a funny look. "'Cowgirl'?"

Taylor smiled innocently. "Yeah, why?"

"Nothing," she said, slowly. She gave her one last look before leaving Taylor alone.

. . .

She didn't have to wait too long for Danny to return. "Hey Drew," he said, wearily, sitting down next to her.

"Any luck?"

Danny nodded, "it wasn't our guy. He was helpful, however. I called in at trace on the way up, got some more information. Flack's following up on a new lead. What about this end? Anything new on Aiden?"

"Actually, yeah," she sighed. Lindsay had only just been in with the update, and whilst Taylor didn't exactly want to tell Danny, she couldn't hide it from him. "They have a new suspect."

Danny came to life. "Who?" he demanded.

"DJ Pratt."

Danny was on his feet in a shot, dashing out of the door. Taylor got up and followed him, close on his heels. Instead of heading for the elevator, however, he went straight to Mac, who was leaving his office. "Hey!" Danny called, "Pratt! For real?"

Mac nodded grimly. "It looks that way."

"Are we going to lock him up? He's dirty!" Danny was disgusted. "We're letting him walk around the city like he owns the place."

"I know you're upset and I am too. But my hands are tied right now. His lawyers watching every move we make right now. I don't want to make a mistake and let him get off on a technicality." Mac walked back into his office, heading for his desk. Danny and Taylor followed him in.

"So until we have the evidence to charge Pratt, the law's going to protect him," Danny muttered angrily. Taylor placed a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

Mac, noting this, changed the subject. "Where are we at with Randal?"

"He scammed Corporal Price: took his money, but not his life. Randal's DNA doesn't match the sample from the vic's shirt and sleeve."

"What about Corporal Price's foot locker. Where is it?"

"I can answer that one," said Taylor. "I called my dad. It's in transit, but it will be here soon."

Mac nodded. "You get anything else?" he asked Danny.

"Actually, I do have a lead. The vic was playing a shell game in Time Square at nine pm. He was found dead in central park at midnight."

"So where was he in between?" Mac asked.

"Exactly," Danny nodded.

Taylor stopped paying attention when Maddy and Aiden turned up again. She took a deep breath and watched, transfixed in almost grim fascination as Aiden was beaten up and spontaneously combusted. "You have to help them get him for me," she told her, the eerie grin on her face.

Taylor was desperate to ask her to give her more clues when she didn't, but Taylor refrained herself. Mac would think she was crazy, and Danny would just… not take it very well. She shut her eyes as the two ghosts disappeared.

"Flack's already there," Danny was saying. "I'm going to head down to DNA and see what Jane's got for us."

"Keep me posted," Mac told him.

. . .

By the time she had had a brief conversation with her father, they had agreed to meet at six for dinner, Danny had returned from DNA and picked Taylor up on his way back to Mac, who was in one of the labs.

"Mac, Flack checked in. It seems the vic went down to the yard bar to meet a chick named Ellie. I think it had something to do with the watch we found in his pocket. The problem is Ellie wasn't there," Danny told him.

"So he left to look for her."

"That was at 11.30. Half hour later, he's dead," Danny frowned.

"Any leads on Ellie?"

"Flack's following up. Right now, she's a ghost."

Taylor frowned. "Well, she hasn't been to visit me."

Danny gave her a shove. "It was a metaphor!"

Taylor shook her head, "Sorry," she sighed. "I'm away with the faeries." Truth be told, Taylor was still distracted by the image of Aiden. It wasn't something that was going to leave her mind for a long time. She realized that Mac and Danny had continued with the conversation and tuned back in, not that she really understood what they were talking about.

"Amelayze test came back on the blood on the shirt – it's positive for mucus," Danny was saying. "The killer's nose bled on Corporal Price's sleeve."

"So how does that get us closer to knowing who the killer is?" Taylor asked.

Mac looked at her. "Price had been through the bull ring. He knew how to fight. He knew how to defend himself." he told her.

_That helps,_ Taylor thought.

Mac turned to Danny, "I'm glad you're here. I want to try something. You be the killer. I'll be Corporal Price." He took of his jacket and hung it up. "I want you to come at me like you were going to stab me in the chest, overhand."

Danny picked up a rubber knife, "Okay."

With a quick, fluid movement, the knife had been dropped on the floor by Mac cracking Danny on the elbow, elbowing him in the nose (both without actual physical contact, of course) and was now holding him from behind in a chokehold. "Okay, I disarmed you with the weapon and made sure you couldn't pick it back up."

Danny shifted uncomfortably, "Yes you did. With a blow to my elbow."

She knew she shouldn't, but Taylor couldn't keep herself from sniggering. Danny just glared at her, straightening his glasses which had become slightly skewed, which, of course, led to her sniggering even more.

"Alright," said Mac, before starting to talk them through what he had done. "Come down on the joint, most likely causing a dislocation. Followed by an elbow to the nose, breaking it. And finishing with a figure four rear choke."

"And Danny's busted nose is going to cause it to bleed. Which would explain the mucus in the blood on the sleeve," Taylor said slowly.

Mac nodded. "Corporal Price was an experienced marine. He would have no problem overpowering a civilian attacker."

"Which is why there was no evidence of a struggle," said Danny.

"He also would have held that choke hold for at least thirteen seconds. Cutting off blood flow until the attacker passed out." He let go of Danny, who pulled at his collar.

"Well how does that work? If he was out cold, how's he going to stab the victim in the chest?" Taylor asked. Things had very quickly stopped making sense.

"It means there was a second attacker. One Corporal Price never saw coming," Mac explained.

Taylor frowned. That was actually the logical explanation.

Mac continued. "One of the attackers has a severely damaged right elbow and a broken nose."

Danny smiled. "Two injuries that do not heal on their own."

"No," Mac agreed. "So one of our suspects is in the hospital. Find him."

Danny nodded and left, Taylor right behind him. "I'm going to get Flack on it." Taylor nodded, still quite distracted. "Why don't you go get yourself a coffee," Danny suggested. "Stay here." He paused. "This case is getting to you, isn't it?" Taylor shook her head. A case _was_ getting to her, but it wasn't this one. "Is it seeing a marine dead? You worry about your dad?"

Taylor stared at him and sighed, "Yeah," she lied. She couldn't tell him that she kept seeing Aiden and the brutal way she died.

"Stay here, have a break," Danny said, giving her arm a squeeze.

Taylor nodded and left him, heading for the break room. Danny would be alright with Flack.

She took a step through the door and stopped. Standing in front of her was Maddy and Aiden. Taylor shut her eyes. She couldn't watch her burn, again. "Maddy, why do I keep seeing this?" she whimpered.

Maddy sighed. "It's not my choice, believe me."

Taylor opened her eyes and looked at the charred body, "Aiden, I want to help you, I really do. But Mac's not letting me near this case. You've got to give me something else to go on," she pleaded.

Aiden nodded and held out a few photographs and a camera. Before Taylor could actually look at was on them, Aiden disappeared. But that didn't deter Taylor. She turned abruptly and headed to Mac's office, where inside, she found both him and Stella, discussing the case.

"How could this have happened, Mac? Aiden was smart. She was a great cop," said Stella. "She knew Pratt was dangerous. Why would she get so close following him with all these photos?"

_Photos_? Taylor headed over to them.

"This case haunted her. Aiden sacrificed her career trying to get DJ Pratt," Mac explained, watching Taylor.

"This is Pratt?" asked Taylor in both horror and surprise.

"Yes," Mac confirmed. "Why?"

"Where did you find these photographs?" Taylor asked, having to force the words out as she suddenly found her throat dry.

"In Aiden's apartment. She's been running her own investigation on him. Why?" Stella asked.

"Because I know him," Taylor muttered. "He's been decorating the corridors in my building."

"Wait a minute. She didn't make a mistake. She made a choice," said Stella, a look of horror on her face. "Look at this photo. This woman lived in the building Pratt was painting." The picture in question was one of Pratt in a van, looking in his side mirrors at Taylor as she crossed the road behind him.

Mac looked closely, "Taylor?" He spared a glance at Taylor's drained face, before focusing on Stella. "Aiden would know she fits Pratt's MO."

"Pratt used Taylor to lure Aiden into his trap. What she didn't know was that he set the whole thing up," said Stella.

Taylor felt sick. "He was targeting Aiden by going through me?" she whispered.

"He stole Charles Wright's car with the intention of killing her in it," Mac continued.

Taylor sank onto one of Mac's chairs. "She saved me, and she grins at me."

"Grins at you? What are you talking about?" Stella asked her.

Taylor's head sunk into her hands. "Aiden's ghost came to see me… comes to see me. She keeps asking me to help them to get him for me. She's talking about Pratt. And I see her die, again and again – burning to a…" Taylor swallowed. "And as she burns, she stares at me with this big, wide grin."

"Mac," interrupted Hawkes, entering the room. "The indentation on the arm rest in the burnt out car – bite mark."

Mac looked over. "Pratt's?"

"That's what I hoped for, but no go. The bite belongs to Aiden. I cast the maxillary dentition. A perfect match. She bit down on the arm rest during the attack."

Mac looked from Hawkes to Taylor. "Aiden left us everything we need to nail DJ Pratt for good."


	72. Death and Taxes

_Spoilers for 2x23: Heroes_

_21/07/2006_

**Chapter 71: Death and Taxes**

Barely seconds had passed before Mac, Stella and Hawkes had dashed out of the room, on their way to arrest Pratt. Taylor watched them leave from where she was seated, remaining in Mac's office for some time.

She was… numb. That was the only word she could use to describe how she was feeling at that moment in time. In a matter of minutes she had gone from sad to sick, horrified to thankful, scared to relieved, and back to horrified again, and now… now she was at numb.

Someone had been following her for – Pratt had been following her for, judging from the photographs, the best part of a week – not that she had even noticed. And at this moment in time, she very well could have been in Mac's office as a rape victim. Or, even worse, lying on a slab downstairs in the morgue. And the cost of her life? Aiden's. A woman who didn't know her, who had never met her, had paid the ultimate price to save her life.

Taylor leant forward to turn four photographs around on Mac's desk. One was of him and Claire. Well, she assumed it was Claire. One of him and Stella from several years ago, One of the current team, and one of the previous team. Taylor sat there staring at the immortal grinning image of Aiden for the longest time, until her stare turned into one of determination.

She got up and marched to the interview room, determined to see Pratt, from the other side of the mirror. Talking to him would come later. She had been expecting to wait there for a while before he was brought in, but he was already there. She must have been sitting in Mac's office for a lot longer than she expected.

"You two happy? You finally got me. I'm under arrest," Pratt smirked. "Of course, ten minutes from now, I will be at Rays. Enjoying a mushroom slice for lunch."

"You're not going anywhere," Mac told him.

"No? You picked me up on an unpaid parking ticket? A crap charge if ever there was one," Pratt scoffed.

_Oh_, thought Taylor, _and it was taxes which got Al Capone._

"Maybe," Mac shrugged. "But we got you in custody."

"Hmmm. My lawyer is going to have a field day with you, Detective Taylor."

"Bring him on," Mac responded. For a fleeting moment, Pratt looked worried.

"See, we knew the first thing you would do is cry harassment," Stella told him, coldly, "So we covered ourselves. Documented every single part of your booking. This way you can't go whining to your lawyer about being mistreated."

"Yeah, I remember the photo shoot. There's an hour of my life I will never get back," Pratt said with a roll of his eyes.

An hour? Had she really been sitting there for that long?

"See this?" Stella continued, holding up an ear print. "It's an ear print from the passenger side of a window of a burnt out Cadillac. And that's your left ear." She led up a Polaroid of Pratt's ear and held the print over it. "Perfect match. It puts you in that Cadillac."

"Lift up your left sleeve," Mac told him, rather than asked him.

Pratt pulled a face. "No. I'm not saying another word without my lawyer present."

"You don't have to. Aiden told us everything we need." Mac held up another Polaroid, this time of a bite mark. "That's another photo from your booking. It's a bite mark on your forearm. Aiden bit you."

"We know what you did," Stella told him, still with the same, cold tone. "And just so you know – your lawyer can't protect you anymore."

"And we have the evidence to make sure you never see freedom again," Mac added.

. . .

Taylor had been patient. She'd waited for Pratt to be booked and taken next door, keeping out of the way. And when she had seen Mac and Stella return to the crime lab, she headed over to booking, where to her luck, Faith Yokas and Maurice Boscorelli, Bosco, had been on duty.

Taylor knew Faith through Bosco, who she knew through Marty. She and Bosco had been on a date, once upon a time – it didn't work out, obviously. Bosco was just too… not for her. But in Taylor's opinion, he was the best person to be watching Pratt. When she had arrived, he had been sat opposite him, glaring, whilst launching small, rolled up pieces of paper at him, as well as sending the snide comments at him. Bosco could be misogynistic, occasionally racist, thoughtless and sexist sometimes, but he was most definitely very loyal – hurt one, hurt us all. According to Faith, he had been discussing with her, in front of Pratt, the statistics of accidental deaths in holding cells.

So, when Taylor had arrived, it hadn't been hard to convince them to give her five minutes with him. And there she was. "Why?" she demanded.

"Why, what?"

"Why me? Why Aiden? Why all those girls?" Taylor asked, struggling to keep the emotion from her voice.

"You?" Pratt repeated, looking her up and down like she was little more than an object. "You were a means to an end."

"A means to an end?" Taylor repeated, "Aiden?"

Pratt nodded. "Stupid little bitch wouldn't leave me alone. And using you - someone who works in the same place - the irony was perfect."

"That stupid little bitch is the reason you're a few years short of having a needle jammed in your arm," she shot at him, not correcting his mistakes.

Pratt rolled his eyes. "Not more crap about her leaving messages."

Taylor glared at him. "She didn't leave any messages. She came and told me it was you." Pratt started laughing at her. "Laugh all you want, but I'm not the one sitting behind bars."

Pratt stopped laughing. "My lawyer will get me out. I'll be on parole in ten years. And let me tell you – it was worth it."

"You'll never breathe free air again."

Taylor and Pratt turned to find Aiden standing next to Taylor. As quick as a blink, Pratt was pressed up against the back wall of the cell, looking terrified, trying to get as far away from Aiden as possible. "What the hell kind of trick is this?" he yelled.

Aiden smiled and walked through the cell bars. "This isn't a trick, Pratt." She walked right up to him, stopping a foot away. And then she clocked him. Punching him so hard he smacked his head back on the wall behind, before crumpling in an unconscious ball on the floor. Aiden turned to Taylor, "That was damn satisfying."

Before Taylor could respond, she had gone. "Hey!" Taylor yelled – she couldn't go, not without Taylor thanking her first.

"What's the matter?" Bosco asked, walking into the room. He stopped when he saw Pratt in a heap on the floor. "What happened? Did you punch him?" he asked, looking at the newly forming bruise.

Taylor looked at him and shrugged. "There's a wall of bars separating me from him."

Bosco looked from Taylor to Pratt, and then back to Taylor. "You have got to teach me that trick," he laughed.

Taylor returned the smile and headed back to the crime lab. Her father was going to be there in a short time, but there was something she wanted to know first.

. . .

Mac was back in his office with Stella, busy chatting. The two stopped when Taylor walked in. "How can I help you, Taylor?"

"How did you know that Aiden biting that arm rest also meant that she bit Pratt?"

"Homicide case six years ago," Mac explained. "A single mother was robbed and murdered on her way home from work, and our only suspect – circumstantial evidence. Not enough for a warrant. The case wasn't going to pan out, but there was this young detective who refused to give up. Wherever the suspect went, the detective was watching, waiting for him to make a mistake."

"Did the suspect make a mistake?" Stella asked.

"The detective was so in his head, the suspect lashed out and took a swing, and that was enough to arrest him. Patting him down, later on, the detective noticed a wound on his arm. A bite mark from the victim."

"And that young detective was Aiden," Stella concluded.

Mac nodded. "Aiden had to know that Pratt was going to kill her, that she was going to die. So she left a clue. She knew I'd understand."

Taylor stared at him. The numb feeling was back.

"I can stick around if you want?" Stella asked

"That's okay. There's actually something I need to take care of," he paused. "Actually," he sighed. "You want to come with me?"

Stella smiled at him. "Of course."

Taylor smiled and left the office. Minutes later, there was a slapping of heels on the tiles behind her. Taylor stopped and turned – Stella was charging after her. "What's the matter, Stella?"

"Did Aiden really come to see you?" Taylor nodded. "And you saw how she died?" Taylor sighed, looked down at her feet and nodded again. "Oh, you poor baby," said Stella, wrapping her arms around her.

Taylor sighed into her shoulder, "She died for me, Stell. If I had been paying more attention, then maybe-"

"Maybe he would have found someone else. Don't beat yourself up on maybes, Taylor," Stella pulled away and looked at her, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Did Aiden say anything to you?"

Taylor shook her head. "No, but," she grinned. "I did witness her land a cracking punch on Pratt."

"You went to see Pratt?" Stella asked, sharply.

Taylor nodded, "I needed to."

Stella stared at her, and then nodded. "A cracking punch, eh?"

. . .

Right at six o'clock, a naval officer arrived at the crime lab to take Corporal Price's belongings back to the ship so that they could be returned to his family. Taylor watched as he drove off, then she and her father walked to the nearest bar serving food, Chimes. Not that Taylor was eating anything (she fed her father the excuse of having an upset stomach – only a half-lie.)

She had just finished explaining about her relationship with the CSIs (after deciding that it wasn't the time or the place to try to explain about seeing ghosts), when she caught Danny's voice ringing through the bar, laughing. She followed the voice to the source of the noise, and spotted him sat at a table with Lindsay, Sheldon, Flack and Stella, all with a beer in their hands.

"Would you like to join your friends?" her father asked her, following her gaze.

Taylor smiled and shook her head. "No, it's alright."

Captain Turner gave her a puzzled look,. "I would like to meet your friends properly, get to know who's been looking after my little girl."

"I know, Daddy," she sighed. "They lost someone today. I think I'll just stay here, let them say goodbye."

Her father nodded. "Very well. But it doesn't put them in the clear, you know. I will still want to meet them."

Taylor smiled. "One day. For now, I want to make the most with being alone with you, before you have to go back."

Captain Turner leant over the table and gave her a kiss on her forehead. "Now, you mentioned something earlier about a car?"

"Yeah. I think I'm going to buy a Mustang. A nice shiny new one," Taylor explained, her eyes widening in excitement over the thought.

"Well, in that case, I shall arrange for some money to be transferred to your account."

Taylor shook her head. "No, thank you, Daddy. You don't have to do that. I can buy it myself – the paper pays me quite well."

"I know I don't have to. However, I have never bought you a car, and that is one thing a father should be able to do for his daughter," he informed her, firmly. "Besides, I'm not having you saying you're buying a new car, to go out and buy a shed of a second hand one, because you thought you would save yourself some money. If something were to happen to you because you broke down somewhere, I'd never forgive myself. And you had better join the AAA."

"Daddy, Chris taught me enough about mechanics-"

"I don't want to hear it," Captain Turner cut her off. "It's one thing to be able to change a tire, or even mend a radiator, but I will not have you doing that on the side of the interstate."

Taylor nodded. He had a point. "How is Chris?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I spoke to him a while back. He's fine," he told her shortly.

Taylor was about to press for more information, when they were interrupted by someone coming to their table. It was one of Captain Turner's naval officers.

"Sorry to interrupt, sir," he said, saluting. "But there is an urgent message from the senator requesting you take the next available flight to Washington."

Captain Turner nodded and got to his feet, "I will be right out, private."

"Daddy!" Taylor exclaimed as the officer left.

"Taylor," don't complain," he snapped. "You know all about my job."

"Yes, sir," she muttered.

His expression softened and he wrapped his arms around her, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I will call you from D.C. I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered. He gave her a smile and left. No sooner had he walked out of the door, the waitress returned, handing over his credit card. Taylor snatched it off her, yelling an apology over her shoulder, as she ran through the tables, sending at least one chair flying in the process. The car was pulling away as she ran onto the pavement, but it stopped as she got near it. Her father wound the window down. "You forgot you card," she told him as she handed it over.

"Thank you."

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too," he told her before he had to drive away.

Taylor smiled sadly as she wiped the tears away.

"Are you alright?" Flack's voice broke her thoughts.

Taylor turned around and found him with Danny, standing there, watching her. She nodded. "Just saying goodbye."

"I didn't know you were in there," Danny said apologetically. "Otherwise I would have invited you both over."

Taylor smiled. "No, we wouldn't have wanted to disturbed you." She yawned. "Look, I'm going to head home."

"Come in and join us," Danny requested.

Taylor frowned, "I don't know. I didn't know Aiden."

"And?" asked Flack.

"Well, it would seem… wrong." _More like, I'm the real reason they're in there celebrating her life._

"Nonsense," Danny told her firmly, grabbing her hand and firmly pulling her towards the door of the bar.


	73. Protector In Life And Death

_21/07/2006_

**Chapter 72: Protector In Life And Death**

Several hours later, the bar was closing, and somehow, only Taylor was left with a very drunk Danny.

Only he was quite a scary Danny. Not because he was violent, or argumentative, but rather because he was just sat there, staring at the label he was picking off his empty bottle of beer. Taylor bit her lip before pulling him to his feet and leading him out of the door. He didn't say a word, just followed her silently back to her apartment. (Being as the bar was right by the lab, they were close to hers.)

At some point, during his last beer, Taylor had made the conscious decision not to let him go back to his parents, who were still at his, in that state, thinking that he could take her couch. Only, as she let him lean on her for support in the elevator, she realised that the best place for him would be her bed, and she would take the couch.

Which was why, at that moment, she was sitting him firmly down on the end of her bed. She was about to leave to get him a glass of water, when his movements in the moonlight which was cascading in through her windows, caught her attention. Her breath caught in her throat when she realised what the movements were. He was sobbing.

The water was forgotten about and she was at his side in an instant. Danny lay down, so his feet were curled up under him, and his head was in her lap, as he cried uncontrollably into her legs. Taylor just stoked his hair, letting him cry. She figured it was probably the best thing he could do.

It wasn't until a good while later that he finally calmed himself down. "She would have liked you," he said softly, his voice hoarse from the crying. Taylor just continued to stroke his hair. "She was amazing, you know. Always wanted to help people – to protect them, especially those who couldn't protect themselves. It's why she went after Pratt like she did. She told me, the night she left, that she wanted to get the bastard for those women he raped. So much, she was willing to sacrifice her career for her. That was Aiden - putting others before herself." He sighed. "She came to see you, didn't she?"

"Yeah," Taylor admitted uncomfortably.

Danny nodded into her lap. "I thought so. Don't worry, I'm not going to ask to see her. I know I can't ask you that."

"If I had any power, Danny…"

"I know, I just… was she… I mean, did she look happy."

Taylor paused. Aiden had had an inane grin on her face every time she saw her, but that had been because she had been trying to give her a clue, not because of anything else. "I think she will be now," she told him.

"Yeah," Danny agreed, "If there's a heaven, Aiden will definitely be in it." He sat up. "I'm sorry about this, Tay."

"Don't even, Danny. If there is anything I can do, I will. Including let you wet my lap." Even if she couldn't have seen his smirk in the moonlight, she certainly would have felt it. "It's amazing how your mind can get into the gutter so quickly."

"Yeah, but you must have been thinking it too."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "That wasn't what I meant, and you know it."

The smirk was replaced by a smile. "Thanks, Tay," he told her, giving her a hug.

"No worries," she got to her feet. "Right, I don't want to hear any arguments about this, but you're having my bed."

"But-"

"I just told you – no arguments." She headed to the door. "Now, I'm getting you a glass of water, and when I come back, I expect you in bed."

"Taylor," Danny called as she was about to take a step out of the door.

"Yes?" she asked, turning.

"Thank you."

Taylor smiled at him and went straight to the kitchen. She had just pulled a glass out of the cupboard when there was a quiet knock at the door. She opened it and found a very worried looking Lindsay standing there. "Is Danny here?"

Taylor stood to one side to let her in. "He's in my bed."

Lindsay froze. "Oh."

Taylor sighed. "Not like that. He was drunk, and he I figured he needed a bed, and no parents."

Lindsay glanced down at the floor. "Is he alright?"

"He will be." She filled the glass and handed it to Lindsay, who stared at in confusion. "Go give this to him."

"Oh, I... I didn't…"

"You didn't turn up on my doorstep at three in the morning because you didn't want to see him," Taylor told her, giving her a push in the direction of her bedroom.

Lindsay looked at the glass, frowned, and then marched determinedly to the bedroom, where she knocked on the door. "I'm in bed, mom!" Taylor could hear Danny call. Without saying anything, Lindsay opened the door and went in. "Montana?"

Taylor smiled to herself and headed to her couch, where she flicked on the television, watching a late night repeat of The A-Team. It wasn't until it finished that she realised that Lindsay hadn't returned, and her spare sheets were in her room.

She frowned and knocked gently on the door, hoping not to disturb the two talking. As she stuck her head around the door, a huge grin lit her face. The two were fast asleep on top of the covers, Danny's head resting on Lindsay's stomach, which his arm was wrapped tightly around. One of Lindsay's hand's was resting on his cheek.

Taylor padded softly over and puller her throw over them, careful not to disturb them, and then grabbed her spare blankets. She headed back to the living room where she made herself comfortable. She was lying, staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep when she realised she wasn't alone. "Aiden?"

"Hello, Taylor."

"Hey, Tay!" Maddy, who was standing next to the former CSI, piped up.

"I thought you would have gone on, by now," said Taylor as she pulled herself into a sitting position. "Although, I'm kinda glad you're not," she sighed, "I'm sorry."

Aiden cocked her head. "What are you apologizing for?"

"You being dead," Taylor offered. "If I hadn't have been so wrapped up in things, I would have noticed Pratt, and you-"

"If it wasn't you, it would have been some other woman," Aiden told her firmly. "And I'm pretty sure I still would be here. And I'm not sorry for that. True, I probably should have gone about things differently – I was so obsessed with catching Pratt – but at the end of the day, he's not going to hurt anyone else again."

"No, and you're not going to be able to live again, either. Danny isn't going to be able to cope with losing you."

"Danny will be fine. He has you, and he has Lindsay, when he finally finds his balls and asks her out," Aiden laughed. "Maybe that's my fault – ragging on him one time too often. And he has Flack, and Stella, and Hawkes, and even Mac. And that's before we count his family."

Taylor nodded. "But he doesn't have you anymore. You've gone." Aiden looked at Maddy and the two of them grinned. "Ok, you two shouldn't be allowed to do that, because frankly, it's worrying," Taylor told them, eyeing the pair suspiciously.

"Well, you know how some people in life were teachers and when they died, they hung around to help future victims?" said Maddy.

"By some people, you mean yourself," Taylor said, slowly. "Yeah, why?"

"Well, some people in life were cops and they protected people – and things like that don't change in death."

Taylor frowned, "I'm not sure I'm following this."

"Well-" Aiden started.

"Meet your new guardian angel," Maddy interrupted, gleefully.

Taylor just stared blankly at them, "Huh?"

"The Powers That Be realised that you needed a little help, sometimes, when the evil spirits come calling," Maddy frowned. "Well, after you broke your arm, and you made me talk to them, they decided that you were right, and you get a guardian angel, and I get some company."

Taylor rubbed her temples. "You're going to protect me?" she asked Aiden, who was smiling happily at her.

"Yup. Although I won't be around as much as Maddy, here. I will call in occasionally, though." The smile dropped from her face. "But you're best off not telling anyone about this. Not even Marty."

Taylor frowned. "But Danny-"

"That's exactly the reason why, Taylor. No one but you will be able to see me. That's not going to be an easy one to explain to Danny – how I can't go visit him."

Taylor nodded. She could see her point. She sighed – it had been a very long and very emotionally draining day.

Thankfully, the two ghosts seemed to pick up on this. "Right, we should go," said Maddy. "You look like you need some sleep."

Taylor arched an eyebrow at her dead friend. "Is that a not-so subtle way of telling me I look like crap?"

"No," laughed Maddy. "Well, nothing a few days beauty sleep wouldn't cure." The ghosts had disappeared before the pillow Taylor had launched at Maddy could pass through her.

She lay back down, using her arms as a pillow, staring back at the ceiling. She still couldn't sleep. Instead of settling her, Aiden's visit had just sent her mind turning at what felt like the speed of light. She sighed and got to her feet, deciding that maybe a glass of water would help.

As she let the tap run cold, and stared out of the window, there was another knock at the door. Frowning, she opened it, to find Flack standing on her doorstep. "Yeah, he's here," she told him, opening the door for him.

"Huh?"

"Danny – he's in my bed," she sighed. "With Lindsay. And they're just sleeping," she added. "But feel free to stick your head around the door and check up on them," she told him, wearily, as she returned her attention back to filling her glass up. When she turned back around, she was surprised to find Flack still standing there. "You want one?" she asked, holding up the water.

"What are you still doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," she shrugged. "Besides, you knocked at the door, so if I had been asleep, you'd have woken me up." She walked past him and to her living room, where she flicked a light on and sat down. Flack followed her in. "Why are you here?" she asked, confused at him following her.

"Stella."

"Come again?"

"Stella rang me. She said I should come over and check up on you."

Taylor's face screwed up in confusion, "huh?"

Flack came and sat next to her, "She told me that Pratt was following you."

Taylor shut her eyes and bowed her head. "Yeah. He was."

Flack wrapped his arms around her and pulled him to her. "Look, whatever does or doesn't happen between us, I want you to know that I'll be there for you, alright?" That was it – the last thing she needed – and the tears were leaking out of her eyes before she could stop them. Flack tightened his arms around her and kissed her hair, "I mean it, Taylor. Any time, day or night, don't be afraid to turn up on my doorstep."


	74. Trick, Treat, Or Tragedy

_Spoilers for 2x24: Charge Of This Post_

_22/07/2006_

**Chapter 73: Trick, Treat Or Tragedy**

_Sunday, October 31st, 07:58_

It was a Sunday, and for no particular reason, Taylor was in an exceptionally good mood. It was already October – Halloween of all days, and the weather wasn't showing the fact that it would soon be winter – it was so warm that Taylor was comfortable in a pair of denim shorts and a white camisole. The good mood she was in didn't waver with the prospect of heading into the paper to work on her column, despite the fact it was a Sunday.

On the Friday just gone, Aiden had had her funeral. And thanks to Aiden, Taylor was finally feeling… better… about her death, despite the inappropriate comments.

_Friday, October 29th, 10:17_

Taylor paid the taxi driver and got out in front of the small church. The service had already started. She'd been battling with herself to come for so long that by the time she had decided to hail a cab, she knew she was going to be late. She took a moment to straighten out her knee-length skirt before creeping into the building.

There were a large amount of people there and Taylor only recognised a handful of them – those from the lab. She decided against sitting with them. For one, it would have meant creeping down the aisles and drawing attention away from the minister. Instead, she slipped into the last pew, which was unoccupied, like the several rows in front, unnoticed.

It wasn't until after one of the hymns that Maddy and Aiden turned up.

"Man, I never thought I'd get to see my own funeral," mused Aiden. She looked fantastic in the white suit, and full of life… despite being dead.

"You're lucky," Maddy told her. "I had to miss my funeral. I don't even know who _didn't_ turn up. I suppose that's a good thing, because otherwise I would have haunted their ass."

"Shhh," Taylor hushed under her breath.

Aiden rolled her eyes, oblivious to Taylor's warning glances. "That, my new friend, is an excellent point. Let's see," she scanned the church. "Oh," she exclaimed in pleasant surprise. "There's a lot more people here then I recognise. That's nice." She frowned. "But Mike isn't here. Man, his apartment is going to get a few shaking doors tonight."

Thankfully for Taylor, there was another hymn, and it covered her voice. "Seriously guys, there's a time and a place."

Maddy laughed. "When is there a better time and place to discuss your funeral, than _at_ your own funeral?"

"When you're not stood next to the one person who can hear you," Taylor hissed.

"Maddy was right about you," Aiden chuckled.

Taylor shot a glare at Maddy, then one at Aiden. "Can we please leave the death conversation until another time?"

Aiden shrugged. It's my funeral," she said, with a straight face, until she looked at Maddy, at which point, the two burst out laughing.

Taylor cringed, increasingly thankful that no one could hear them. "That is not funny, Aiden. Aside from the fact that everyone else in here is here to mourn your death, do you think I like hearing about you being dead, especially considering-"

"Don't say it, Taylor," Aiden warned. "I've told you already, it's not your fault I'm here, so quit with the guilt trip. Besides, being dead has its perks."

"What perks?" Taylor asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"I get to kick some ass and not get fired or arrested for it. And they'll all be creeps who deserve it. _And_ I can walk through walls," she grinned. "And do you have any idea how much I can wind Messer up – moving his things around?"

Taylor fought back a smile – that _would_ be somewhat entertaining. "How can you be able to move things yet Maddy can't?"

Maddy shrugged. "Different purposes."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Taylor demanded.

Aiden shrugged, "Sorry, but we can't say any more."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

_Sunday, October 31st, 08:00_

Another reason for the cheerful smile was because something else Aiden had said had hit home with her.

_Friday, October 29th, 12:46_

Taylor had slipped out before everyone else had left the church and was standing under a tree, still unnoticed, watching the casket get lowered into the ground. There was something holding her back from standing with the others. She sighed, wishing she had the balls Lindsay had: she was stood by Danny's side, firmly clasping his hand, being the tower of strength he needed.

Even Marty was up there. He had known Aiden before he had taken his sabbatical. Apparently, he had known her well. _Very_ well. They had dated when she was still an officer, but had broken up because he wasn't ready to have a steady relationship.

"I didn't want one either," Aiden told her. She had followed Taylor's line of vision to the young coroner and had guessed that that was who Taylor had been thinking about. Or at least, that was what Taylor wanted to believe. Psychic powers were a whole other ball game.

"Come again?"

"Marty didn't want a long term relationship, and neither did I. I was fresh on the force and promotion was the only thing on my mind. We met in the morgue of all places, so it was obvious that the relationship would be dead not long after."

Taylor glared at her. "Seriously, death jokes are not funny."

"Ah, well, you haven't heard the one about the shortcut through the cemetery," Aiden informed her, before telling her the joke. Taylor rolled her eyes, hoping it would distract from the smile playing over her lips. "Yeah, it was my first dead body. I had been a cop for a grand total of sixteen hours. He'd been a coroner for the same length of time."

"He can see ghosts too, you know."

Aiden nodded, "So I've just found out. Can't say I'm surprised – he was always acting weird," she frowned. "Perhaps that is why he never wanted a proper relationship. Ghosts can play havoc on your s-"

"I've noticed," Taylor said, dryly. "I haven't had a date in months."

"Well, from what I hear, that's your own doing, because a certain blue-eyed wonder over there is crazy for you."

"Flack doesn't believe in ghosts."

Aiden laughed. "He had the same argument when we had a case together in a supposedly haunted monastery. But seriously, at least you don't have to have a conversation about you seeing ghosts – he already knows."

"But he doesn't believe me," Taylor pressed, staring at said detective's back.

"Why is that so important?"

"I've already had that conversation with him – you can't trust someone who thinks you are crazy," Taylor explained.

"Maybe trust has to be earned," Aiden offered. "And maybe time's too short not to try. What would you do if he was died before next week even started?"

Taylor stared at Flack's back. Maybe Aiden had a point.

_Sunday, October 31st, 08:03_

As soon as she had the Monday edition of her column finished, she was going to go straight around to Don's house and, well, she wasn't sure exactly what she was going to say, but it was going to be something along the lines of, "maybe trust has to be earned". Well, it was a lot better than pushing herself into his apartment, pinning him against a wall and pretty much sticking her tongue down his throat. Although that idea was tempting too.

It seemed that everyone else in her area of New York was also in the same cheerful spirits as she wove through the crowds which had gathered for the last block party of the year. Despite the early hour everyone was making the most of the last hot day the city was likely to have. Rain had been forecast for the following day – something which was much needed because of the drought New York had been suffering from that summer. She threw smiles and waves as she accepted the various pieces of food – popcorn, candy, burgers and potato chips – which were offered to her as she occasionally stopped to dance to the song blasting out of the stereo.

It took her three times longer than it normally did to reach the building, but as she wasn't required to be there, she wasn't bothered. The building was pretty empty. The only day the paper didn't go to print was a Sunday (Alex had a work ethic like the owner of _Chick-fil-A_, in that Sunday was the Lord's day). They substituted with an extra thick Saturday paper instead and as per usual, the building was empty because of this fact. It was part of the reason Taylor liked to work on a Sunday so much – for the peace and quiet.

She said hello to the few people that were there and made her way up to her office, waving at Smith as she entered. He was listening to his personal stereo again, and didn't seem to notice her. Taylor smiled to herself and sat down at her computer. It was early and she was soon lost in her work as she half listened to the music that was drifting in through her open window.

_Sunday, October 31st, 11:15_

It wasn't until the fire alarm went off that she realised she's been writing for the best part of three hours. Taylor groaned at the obnoxious noise and finished the sentence she was working on before saving her work. She grabbed her purse, left her office and was about to head out into the corridor when she heard two familiar voices.

"Clear."

"Clear. Alright, let's go!"

"Mac? Flack?" Taylor stood gaping at them. "What on earth are you-"

"Can't you hear the alarm?" Flack shouted at her over the top of it.

Taylor stopped. "It goes off all the time – a faulty wire, or somet-"

"Taylor, there's a bomb in the building." Mac told her.

Taylor stopped and turned to head back the way she had come from. Flack grabbed her arm. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Smith is still in there. He has headphones on. I bet he hasn't even heard the alarm," she told him, trying to wrench her arm free.

Flack held on as Smith appeared, pulling his headphones off in surprise, "What's going on?"

"Hey" Flack yelled at him, still holding onto Taylor. "Get the hell out of here!"

The four of them turned to run for the stairs, but before they made it, the bomb went off.

_Sunday, October 31st, 11:38_

Taylor regained consciousness some time later in fits of coughing due to the dust. She tried to roll over, but there was some form of debris lying on top of her, crushing her right arm. Using all her strength, she pushed it off, coughing some more at the new clouds of dust the debris threw into the air as it landed. Almost as soon as it had landed, something came crashing down beside her. Taylor let out a scream and quickly brought her arms over her head.

As the dust once again started to settle she spotted a body trapped under some rubble just to her side. Her heart practically flew out of her throat as she realised who it was, "Flack!" She dashed over to his side, spotting the open gash at his abdomen almost instantly.

Taylor placed a hand on his face and forehead, carefully avoiding the wounds which were bleeding there. "Oh my God, Flack! Talk to me!" His eyes fluttered at her before he lost focus. "Come on, Flack, stay with me," she cried, as she turned her attention to the blood. Taylor knew very little about medicine and injuries, but she'd seen enough episodes of ER to know that it looked pretty bad, and that she needed to try and stop the bleeding.

She looked around, spotting a bottle of water, and grabbed it, dousing her hands. She wasn't sure what good it would do, but it seemed like the best thing to do. Then she pulled her camisole off and turned it inside out. It wasn't as clean as she'd had liked it to have been, but there was nothing else around. She pushed it gently into the wound, trying hard not to put unnecessary pressure onto what looked like a rib.

"Taylor!"

Taylor whipped her head around and saw Mac and Smith pushing their way over to her, "Flack!"

Mac dropped down to his knees on the other side of the injured detective, "Don! You're going to be ok," he told him as he gently removed Taylor's hand so he could have a look at the wound underneath. "You're going to be okay," he repeated. "Just hang on. We're going to get you out of here." He looked around at a thin blue powder which was coating the area. "What's all this blue stuff?"

"I… it's ink powder," Smith stuttered.

Taylor looked at her colleague – he seemed fine physically, just a few scrapes, but he wasn't normally this panicky. "There are a couple of copiers on the floor above us. It must have fallen through," Taylor told him.

"Oh, God," Smith muttered. He had taken his first look at Flack's wound.

Mac took control, "I need your shoelace," he told Smith. Smith nodded and pulled one out of his shoe. "Right, I need your help here," he flung the bottle of water at Smith, "Rinse off." Smith nodded, and did as he was asked, his hands trembling. Mac passed a torch over. "Hold this. Now, give me your thumb and your forefinger – right here. Come on."

Smith froze.

Taylor took a breath and stuck her fingers inside Flack's wound instead, grasping at the two pieces of bone. She could actually feel Flack's warm blood pumping against her fingers – and it was taking every ounce of will power she had not to start crying.

Mac took a quick look at Taylor before sticking his fingers in and tying the shoelace so that the rib was no longer sticking into Flack's abdomen. But that didn't make Taylor feel any better. Both she _and_ Mac had both managed to get their hands into the wound… into Flack… at the same time!

She withdrew her hand so that Mac could gently press her top back onto the wound. She swallowed and shut her eyes. The only sound she could hear was music – but from inside, rather than outside. It wasn't until she made out the lyrics that she realised it was Smith's walkman.

I wish I could go back to the very first day I saw you

Should've made my move when you looked in my eyes

'Cause by now I know that you'd feel the way that I do

And I'd whisper these words as you'd lie here by my side

It was Celine Dion. She wasn't sure of the song, but she recognised the voice. Any other time and she would have found it amusing – she'd finally busted Chris Smith on his not so secret, secret: his love of Celine Dion. Only, Flack's laboured breathing was a sure sign that the situation was far from surreal.

Her eyes snapped open as something was draped over her shoulder – it was Mac, giving her his shirt. She hadn't even realised that she was sat there with nothing on top other than her bra. She gave him a brief smile but shook her head and pulled it off. But instead of giving it back, she balled it up and gently placed it under Flack's head.

"How did you know what to do?" Smith asked, staring in awe at Mac.

"I've lived through this moment before," Mac told him. Taylor stared at him, unable to find the words. "Search and rescue will be here soon," Mac continued. "Grab something and start banging around – make some noise."

"You think we're going to make it out?"

"If the oxygen holds out and we don't get another collapse. Come on, make some noise," Mac urged.

Smith leapt to his feet and grabbed a piece of metal from the rubble, banging it on what looked like the remains of a desk. "Can anyone here me? Help!" he yelled, banging furiously. "Help! We're in here! Help!"

_Sunday, October 31st, 11:47_

The banging and shouting continued for, what seem to Taylor, an eternity, although in all actuality, it was something around ten minutes.

But ten minutes is a long time when the man whose hand you are clinging to in one hand, your other hand stroking his uninjured cheek, his breathing becoming more laboured, and his eyes flickering open and closed, unable to focus on anything.

"Stay with me, Flack," Taylor whispered urgently, bending her head close to his. "Stay with me. There's something I need to tell you, and I'm sure as hell not going to tell you when you're…" she trailed off as the tears began to fall on his face. She quickly wiped them away. "Stay with me, damn it, Don!"

Mac was going to say something, but Smith stopped him as he jumped about excitedly. "They found us," he yelled, pointing to lights which were peaking through a pile of rubble. "We're in here!"

"Mac?" Taylor had never been so relieved to hear Danny's voice. "Mac! You in there?"

"Yeah," Mac shouted back, as Danny's head came into view. "Danny, Flack's injured."

Taylor watched as Danny's eyes moved from Mac, to her, to Flack's unconscious body on the floor. "Alright, we're coming."

_Sunday, October 31st, 11:59_

Taylor waited impatiently as the rescue services spent precious minutes clearing away a hole in the hole so that two paramedics could crawl through with a backboard.

"Taylor, we need to work on him," said a familiar voice.

Taylor blinked, turning her attention away from Flack to the medic who was standing over her. It was Doc. He gently helped her to her feet as Carlos dropped to his feet to start treating Flack. Taylor hadn't even realised that Mac and Smith were already being helped through the rubble until a fireman (she was certain he had been introduced to her as Jimmy at some point over the last few months – inevitably through Marty) seemed to appear out of nowhere. He pulled off his jacket and put it on her before helping her through the rubble.

_Sunday, October 31st, 12:06_

Taylor was sat in an ambulance staring worriedly at the entrance to the now ruined building. After being led outside, she had been taken straight to an ambulance, but had only allowed Alex and Kim to treat her on the condition she could see the building for when Flack got brought out. So far nothing. She moved her head impatiently so she could see around the light Kim was trying to shine in her eyes, drowning out her complaints.

Taylor felt fine. She wasn't the one fighting for her life. That was until she looked down and watched Kim pull something metal out of her thigh, and the blood began leaking. Then she felt the pain. And boy, did it sting like a bitch! And that was before Kim started to clean it with some antiseptic liquid and wrapped a pad, gauze and bandage around her leg. Taylor looked to her right, only to find Alex bandaging her lower arm up. She knew as she watched that it was broken. Despite the pain, Taylor was not amused: that arm had been out of a cast for a month, and now it was back in it.

But the pain in her arm, leg, and head, was forgotten about as soon as she saw Flack being carried out of the building. Alex and Kim had barely fastened the bandages before Taylor was running over to Flack, ignoring the burning pain that was travelling up her leg.

But before she could get close, a pair of arms had grabbed her. Taylor turned to find someone she didn't recognise holding her. His clothing showed he was clearly there in an attempt to work out who set off the bomb, but Taylor didn't care. She was about to start hurling abuse at the man, but Stella appeared.

"Taylor, are you alright?"

Taylor looked at her, shaking her head. "I'm going to the hospital with Flack," she told her.

Stella nodded. "Let her go, Lessing," she told the man holding Taylor.

"But she's a witness-"

"At this moment in time, she's a victim who has just been rescued from a blown up building," Stella snapped. "She's going nowhere other than the hospital."

The man – Lessing – stared at Stella before letting go of Taylor.

Taylor didn't even stop to thank Stella – she could see Doc about to shut the door to the ambulance. "Wait!" she yelled.

Doc paused and looked up, "Taylor-"

"I'm coming with you," Taylor practically demanded.

Doc sighed, and opened the door so that Taylor could climb in the bus.

_Sunday, October 31st, 12:48_

Flack had been rushed to surgery the moment he had passed through the ER doors. Taylor, meanwhile, had been refused entry to the room and had been led to an empty family room where she had been left with a cup of coffee, told that someone would be along shortly to properly see to her injuries and the promised that she would be kept informed of the detective's progress.

She was pacing the room back and forth, staring at the floor, when she felt the room go cold. She whirled around and found herself staring at Maddy and Aiden. Stood with them was Flack.

Aiden's words came back to haunt her: What would you do if he was died before next week even started?

"No," Taylor whispered, dropping the coffee. "Oh, fuck, no!"


	75. Lose Him, Lose Me

_Spoilers for 2x24: Charge Of This Post_

_25/07/2006_

**Chapter 74: Lose Him, Lose Me**

_Sunday, October 31st, 10:00_

"Aiden!" Maddy yelled, loudly, disturbing Aiden from her moment of peace.

Aiden took one last look at the Sydney Opera House – funny how she had to be dead to be able to get to travel the world. Seriously, being dead had its bonuses: no laundry, being able to go wherever she wanted… although, The Powers That Be had reprimanded both her and Maddy when they decided to pay a visit to Johnny Depp. _Was it their fault he happened to be in the shower?_ "What's up?"

"The guys in charge want to see us."

"Us?" Aiden repeated, a grin spreading across her face. "Does that mean it's time to kick some ass?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be telling you we need to go see the bosses, would I?" Maddy told her impatiently.

Aiden stuck her tongue out. She gave the Sydney harbour one last look and vanished, following after Maddy

_Sunday, October 31st, 10:03_

It still amused Aiden that the afterlife was as much of a corporate system as life was. There was the elusive 'Big Guy', the CEO, who Aiden had yet to meet. That being said, she'd been dead for a week, and Maddy, who had been dead for months still had to see Him. Below Him were the executives, The Powers That Be, and they really weren't what Aiden had imagined them to be. Well, she hadn't envisioned the corporate system, but these guys?

One of them was Bartholomew. He was the one who seemed to do most of the talking. He looked like a walrus. A walrus dressed in an upper-class Victorian period suit, daft hat and big moustache included. "Aiden, Madeline." Aiden could feel Maddy grimace – for some reason she hated that name. "Next job for you," Bartholomew continued. "There's going to be an explosion – a bomb, in the building Taylor works in. Aiden, your job is to make sure she doesn't get killed."

"What about mine, B?" Maddy asked, making Aiden smile. Maddy, as she had come to realise, was just like her.

Bartholomew was, despite the appearance, much like Mac. A stickler for the rules, but could occasionally have a laugh. And that was how both Maddy and Aiden could get away with them calling him 'B', with only a rolling of eyes at them. "Your job, Madeline, is to meet the spirit of someone who is going to die in the explosion, from Exam 3 at Trinity Hospital at 12:51."

"Coolios," said both Maddy and Aiden.

_Sunday, October 31st, 11:15_

Aiden had been lurking around Taylor's office for a while now. According to B, the bomb was going to detonate at 11:17. Looking at the clock, Aiden could tell that Taylor wasn't going to make her first assignment a particularly easy one. The fire alarm had been going off for several minutes now, and Taylor was taking her time saving her article. Fat lot of good that was going to do!

Finally, Taylor got to her feet and gathered her belongings together. Aiden stepped back, not that it made much difference: she had had strict instruction not to let Taylor see her. B had mentioned something about a final test. So she had been watching her, knowing that Taylor was unable to see her. She followed her out of the room.

Had she been alive, her heart would have stopped as two familiar voices caught her attention. Her fears were confirmed as she saw Mac and Flack. She knew that Flack was going to die. But that didn't mean it wasn't going to be a shock. Aiden pushed the thought from her mind. She would worry about that later. She had a job to do.

She stuck close to Taylor, watching as she tried to go back further into the building – she really was going to make her work – but she stopped when her colleague appeared. The four living people turned to leave, Aiden close to Taylor, when the explosion happened.

And everything slowed down. It was like life was happening in slow motion – the big ball of fire heading towards them, the building shaking, glass, wood, metal flying in all directions. As well as people. Aiden turned, knocking a huge metal shard which was heading towards Taylor, on a different path, and grabbed onto Taylor's arm as both she, Taylor, and Flack – who was still holding on – went flying backwards, still in slow motion. As they flew backwards, so did the shrapnel. Aiden manoeuvred herself through the air, so that she was covering Taylor, and deflected the shrapnel away – well, all but one piece that managed to lodge itself in Taylor's thigh.

Taylor and Flack landed on their back, next to each other. Aiden landed on her knees on the other side of Taylor, and flipped over, seeing the huge chunk of ceiling that was about to rain down on them. She stood up and pushed it out of the way – not far enough. It landed on Taylor's right arm. Aiden winced, thankful that Taylor had been knocked unconscious and couldn't feel it. And then the building began to settle.

When Aiden was sure nothing else was heading towards Taylor, short of a hell of a lot of dust, she stood to one side and looked around.

She was the only thing that wasn't grey. Her white and gold suit still looked like it was brand new. In fact, her hair also still looked like she had just stepped out of a salon. Next to Taylor was Flack. And in Flack was a hole. A great bloody hole that shouldn't be there. Aiden's mouth dropped open as she dropped to the floor next to him.

_What would you do if he died before next week even started?_

She had tried to tell Taylor –she'd gotten into enough trouble on that one – but she couldn't just let him die without him being happy. He deserved more than that. Hell, he didn't deserve to be dead. He was young, and he was just doing his job.

Sunday, October 31st, 12:51

Aiden met Maddy and Flack outside of the ER.

"Aiden?" said Flack. He was clearly in shock. Well, he had just died – it was hardly surprising.

Aiden managed a weak smile, "Taylor?" she asked Maddy.

Maddy nodded. It was time.

Sunday, October 31st, 12:54

Every expletive Taylor could think of was running through her head – in English, Spanish and Italian – she would be able to make any sailor wince if he could hear her. Vocally, she was repeating the same word over and over. "No, no, no, no…"

"I'm sorry, Taylor," Maddy apologised.

"No."

"It had to be done," Aiden told her.

"NO!" Taylor roared. "No it does not."

"Taylor-"

"Madeline Sophia Almeida," Taylor said firmly. "No."

"The Powers That Be-"

"You know what, The Powers Can Be can go and stick their heads so far up their own a-"

The room went white.

Taylor had to blink a few times to get the light out of her eyes before she realised that someone else had joined the room. "Who the hell is that?" she demanded. "Because I told you, The Powers That-"

"Uh, Tay," Maddy interrupted. "This is one of the guys you wanted to tell they can, uh-"

"My name is Matthew," said the new guy.

Taylor eyed him suspiciously. He looked more like a farmer than any form of God or Demi-God, or Power That Be. Having said that, Maddy and Aiden's behaviour was certainly different towards him. "Good," she said surprisingly calmly. Instead of saying anything, Matthew merely observed her. "You can put his spirit back in his body," Taylor continued.

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Yeah, you can," Taylor corrected him. And you will. Right now."

Matthew shook his head, "I'm afraid I can't do that," he repeated.

"Then you go back up there, and you find someone who can. And you do it."

"You can't raise the dead."

"You can do anything you want. It's not too late – the doctors in there are fighting for his life right now!" Taylor was in tears, but she kept her voice calm and even. "So, you pack his spirit up and you put it back in his body."

"And why would we do that?" Matthew asked her, equally as calmly as he cocked his head to observe her reaction.

Taylor's mouth dropped open, "Forget for one minute about what this is doing to me, alright, put that aside and think of everybody else. Think about Danny. You guys are about to send him into some void that will take him ages to get out of, if he does. He's lost one of his best friends, you've made the stupid decision to get rid of his other best friend, and don't let me get started on Louie." Barely pausing, she decided that maybe she should get started on Louie. "He's in a hospital on the other side of town, after the crap was beaten out of him, lying in a coma, which he keeps slipping in and out of because you guys can't make up your mind whether or not he's supposed to be alive or not. Getting past Danny, Don has four other friends who are searching high and low over the city to find the guy who took his life. He has a mother, a father, and siblings who are going to be devastated. And _then_ there's the fact the city is going to lose one of its best homicide detectives!" Taylor lost all control then. "And for _what_? Some stupid plan? Well, you know what? Screw this plan. You're going to put his spirit back in his body, where it belongs. Or else."

"Or else what?" Matthew asked.

Taylor folded her arms, narrowing her eyes at the man in front of her. "Or else you guys are going to lose me."

Matthew just remained staring at her, calmly. "We would lose you?"

"Yeah, because the one thing you can't factor over is human behaviour. God knows that you making me see dead people has allowed me to learn that one," Taylor pointed out. "And if you lose me, that's going to put some damper on your plan whilst you find yourself a replacement for me, which, I might add, is going to take another eight months before they're at the same level as me."

"You sound pretty confident. How do you know that you're the only one who can see ghosts?"

"I don't give a damn if I'm one of a million, or one in three," Taylor snapped, finally losing her temper. "In eight months I have lost my best friend. I have lost sleep, lost weight, lost my appetite. You have shown me children, teenagers, adults, old people. People who have been shot, strangled, poisoned. Hell, you even showed me Aiden's very graphic death. I have had to make the entire team believe me – something which I'm still working on. And on top of all of that, I have been thrown around, bruised, hit, had cans launched at my head – and half of the time, the ones causing the pain were dead!" Matthew continued to stare at her. "SO, YOU PUT HIS SPIRIT BACK IN HIS BODY, AND YOU DO IT NOW!" she roared.

Matthew looked at her – she was crying, trembling, and breathing heavily, but there was something in her eyes. He nodded.

Taylor, quite prepared to continue her rant, faltered. "Uh, what?"

"Very well," Matthew told her. "But, be warned: we won't forget this."

"Thank you," she whispered.

The room was bathed in bright white light, again blinding Taylor.

_Sunday, October 31st, 12:54_

When her eyes finally readjusted, she was alone. Taylor raced out of the room, down the corridor and burst into the ER.

"He's back!" one of the doctors yelled.

Taylor sank to the floor, tears of relief streaming down her face, as she looked at the clock. 12:54. Despite the conversation that had just taken place, no time had passed. Flack had been dead, and she had saved him. The tears fell harder as she began sobbing.


	76. How Long Is This Yes Valid?

_Spoilers for 2x24: Charge Of This Post_

_26/07/2006_

**Chapter 75: How Long Is That Yes Valid?**

_Sunday, October 31st, 13:28_

Taylor had eventually been led out of the ER and back to the relative's room, where she currently was, a doctor bandaging up her arm. Only, he wasn't doing a particularly good job with it – it was his first day on his surgical rotation. That being said, the state of the plaster around Taylor's arm was the last thing on her mind at that point.

The realisation that she had argued with some higher powers over Flack's life, whilst wearing a filthy, torn pair of shorts and only a bra under a fireman's jacket, was surreal enough, but the fact that she had won the argument? And then it hit her: she had never discussed the specifics. Sure, they could put his spirit back in his body, but that didn't mean that he had to wake up afterwards. Taylor shut her eyes. No, they wouldn't be that cruel, right?

The doctor was trying to convince her to get a shower and changed, as soon as the plaster had set, but Taylor shook her head. Another thing she hadn't specified was how long Flack was to stay alive for. By all rights, he could die again in the next half hour. So there was no way she was going to leave his side. Not until he woke up, at least.

With the plaster still damp, she muttered her thanks, and, ignoring the doctor's protests, headed straight back to the ER. Only Flack wasn't there. She was about to have a small breakdown, when Mac appeared. "Taylor, you're covered in blood!" Mac noted, staring at her in worry.

Numbly, Taylor glanced down at herself. She turned a shade of red as she realised the jacket was undone, showing that she was indeed covered in blood. She shivered, although not from the cold, and hugged the jacket around her. "It's not mine," she told him.

Mac sighed, "Taylor, you need to be admitted."

"I will when you do," she told him stubbornly. "I'm fine." Her ears were still ringing, and she suspected that she was actually talking much louder than she needed to, but she couldn't feel the pain in her thigh or leg. The doctor had given her some painkiller and that had also taken away the dull throbbing in her head. Besides, she couldn't leave Flack.

Mac sighed. "Very well."

"Detective Taylor?" Mac and Taylor turned to find another doctor heading for them. "I am Doctor Barnes. Detective Flack is under heavy sedation to stabilise him before we operate on him. The debris from the explosion is lodged in his chest."

Mac nodded, sombrely. "We're going to need his clothing and any debris you remove from his body."

Taylor shuddered.

"I'll send everything to the lab," the doctor agreed.

"Can I see him? Taylor asked. "Please?"

Dr Bares looked at her sympathetically. "Uh, he's best left alone for now."

"I can't stand around waiting," she told him, a hint of pleading in her voice.

Dr Barnes sighed. "We have an observation room in the OR. You can watch from there, if you like. But there may be other surgical students in there."

Taylor nodded. "That's fine," she consented.

"Right after the operation," said Mac. "Before he gets bandaged up. I'd like to see him."

"Okay," Dr Barnes agreed.

_Sunday, October 31st, 14:14_

There _were_ other surgical students in there, and all gave the new girl wearing the filthy fireman's jacket a funny look, but ignored her, for the most part. Taylor sat to one side at the back, away from everyone else. It was one thing to watch an operation on television, but to see it in real life... She was almost thankful that she was too exhausted to lose her stomach. Her stomach remained in tight knots for the entirety of the surgery. Knots that refused to leave even as she walked down to the OR to meet Mac. He had entered as the room was being cleaned, armed with his camera.

"Taylor?"

"Hi, Mac," she greeted him quietly.

Mac gave the exhausted journalist a long look. "Go home and get a shower," he told her.

Taylor shook her head, "I'm not leaving him, Mac."

"You can use the doctor's showers if you want?" a nurse offered. "And I'll find some scrubs for you as well."

"I-"

"She'll do it," Mac agreed for her. "Taylor, I will stay here until you get back. Nothing is going to happen to him."

Taylor looked at him and nodded, following the nurse. She stood in the shower, watching as the water washed all the blood and dirt away. It was everywhere. Finally she was clean and dressed in a set of green scrubs. She hurried back to the OR. Mac was staring down at Flack. "I'm going to get you through this, Don." Mac turned and found Taylor watching him. "He'll be alright. I know he will."

Taylor nodded. Her heart was telling her that was true, but her head simply wasn't trusting The Powers That Be at that point.

_Sunday, October 31st, 15:11_

Lindsay walked into the AV lab clutching tightly at the evidence bag with the piece of the cell phone in it.

"Montana?"

Lindsay's head flicked over to the computer Danny was sat at – truth be told, she hadn't even seen him in there… although, if she was completely honest, she felt him in there when she walked in. Concern was just radiating from him. "Hi, Danny," she smiled.

"Whatcha got?"

Lindsay sighed. "The bomb was triggered by a phone call," she said holding the bag up.

"If we can get the last incoming call from this SIM card, traceable number," Danny frowned. "When I get my hands on the ba-"

"You'll have to get in line behind me," Lindsay told him firmly.

Danny looked over at the petite brunette with a new sense of respect for her. She may have been small, but she was one hell of a woman. They opened the bag and slowly prised the SIM card from the charred remains with a pair of tweezers.

Lindsay slipped the SIM into a larger card and then into the card reader. "Come on," she muttered, fidgeting impatiently. "Okay, finally," she exclaimed, as the computer beeped at them.

"Alright, whoever owns the number-" Danny started, clicking a button with his mouse.

"-Owns the phone that triggered the bomb," Lindsay finished for him.

Danny sat in his seat, typing away on the keyboard. Since when had he and Lindsay got to the point where they were finishing each other's sentences for each other? He shook the following thoughts out of his head. Now was not the time to be thinking about his relationship status. The computer beeped at him.

Next to him, Lindsay cocked her head, "Some kind of secured line?"

Danny nodded,. "Secured government department," he clicked a few more buttons. "DHS?" he said, reading the computer monitor in disbelief.

Lindsay copied down the information, "I should get this to Mac."

"Lindsay," Danny called after her, stopping her from walking out of the room.

Lindsay turned back. "Yes?"

"Are you alright? Really, I mean?" he asked, eyeing her carefully.

Lindsay looked over at him. "Yeah," she said finally. "Just a bit of a headache. Nothing getting this bomber won't solve. " She smiled, "Thanks for asking."

_Sunday, October 31st, 15:44_

Danny followed Mac into Chelsea University. They had found out, only a very short time ago, that there was another bomb in this building.

"We set up a perimeter," Detective Scagnetti told them. "Did you get the FBI information?"

Danny stopped himself from scowling at the detective – it wasn't his fault that he was there instead of Flack.

Mac nodded. "Bomb threats were made to this library and the New York Daily building starting two weeks ago. Caller said they were drills. Called himself The Sentry."

"The Sentry?" Danny made a disgusted face. "No one told us?"

Mac shrugged. "Feds followed up but there was nothing solid, so, it went in the hoax file."

Danny cursed the whole situation, as he scanned the room, careful not to disturb the sniffer dogs that had been brought in to help. He stopped looking when he realised that Mac had stopped, his torchlight fixed on something by a pay phone. Danny could feel his stomach plummet.

"Danny," Mac said slowly. "Get everyone behind the perimeter."

Danny nodded.

_Sunday, October 31st, 15:55_

Minutes later, Mac and Danny were kitted out in protective gear and were about to open the red bag Mac had found. Not that the protective gear gave Danny much comfort – it wasn't going to do much good from that distance. "Bomb squad won't be happy you doing this," he told Mac, glad that his voice didn't betray his fears. That being said, he dropped the protective screen of his helmet's visor over his face.

"They're good, but they haven't had time to study the trigger we pulled from the first bomb," Mac explained.

Danny watched Mac nervously. "The bomber can detonate the C4 at any moment."

"Let's hope I don't make the same mistake."

Danny was not impressed: that wasn't funny. Nevertheless, Mac was cutting the tape holding the cell phone to the explosives, so he refrained from telling him so.

"Hold this," Mac instructed him, holding the cell phone out to him. "Cutters."

Danny handed over the cutters and watched Mac hesitate over which wire to cut. He was about to ask him if getting the bomb squad wouldn't be a better option, when Mac cut the green and yellow wires.

Danny let out a long sigh. He hadn't even realised he had been holding his breath. He pushed his visor up to wipe the beads of sweat from his forehead. If there was one thing today was making him realise, it was that life was precious. And after being this close to the bomb exploding on him, he was going to make the most of it.

_Sunday, October 31st, 15:58_

Taylor hung up the phone. She had just called the lab off a landline the nurse had provided for her, to let them know that Flack was being moved into a recovery room She turned her attention back to the unconscious detective lying in front of her, his wounds now dressed and his body wrapped up in the hospital gown. Placing her arms on his bed, she rested her chin on top of them and watched the rise and fall of his chest, the movement bringing her some comfort.

Only the comfort didn't last long. The temperature in the room dropped considerably. Taylor turned and found a guy, who looked remarkably familiar staring at her. Taylor narrowed her eyes. There was no Maddy, and no Aiden.

"You have to stop me."

His voice rang the bells of recognition in her head, "Lessing?" she asked uncertainly.

"You have half an hour." He disappeared.

Taylor frowned, and reached for the phone, calling the crime lab and asking them to put her through to Stella. If Lessing was asking her to stop him, that meant he was still alive, which meant he was a schizophrenic. Which also meant he was the guy responsible for Flack lying in the bed in front of her.

_Sunday, October 31st, 19:38_

Taylor had not moved since calling Stella. She was still sat next to the bed, opposite the large glass wall, holding Flack's right hand with her cased one, her chin resting on her other arm as she watched him sleep. Mac had arrived ten minutes earlier with Stella, and the two were sat outside of Flack's room. Taylor didn't take her eyes off Flack as their conversation filtered in.

"Hell of a thing with Lessing. You put yourself at quite a risk," Stella said.

"At the end of the day, I don't think he wanted to kill anyone. I think he just wanted to show us that we're still vulnerable to attack."

This did cause Taylor to flick her eyes over.

"You are not taking his side?" Stella asked in surprise, voicing the question Taylor was ready to blurt out.

Mac sighed. "His method was flawed, but the central principle isn't. It's hard to argue with the idea that we should protect our country"

"This one really got you, huh?" Stella asked him, resting a hand on his thigh.

Mac let out another tired sigh, "Took me back. Corporal Stan Whitney. Marine sentry at the Beirut airport, I was there, a young lieutenant on gate sentry detail six twenty am," he explained to Stella. "I was, uh, pretty badly hurt. We lost 221 marines and 21 other service members that day. Corporal Whitney died in my arms."

Stella smiled reassuringly and squeezed his leg. Mac smiled back.

The door to the wing opened and the rest of the team entered, all three of them giving Mac and Stella a quick smile of greeting and then walking over to the big glass wall of Flack's room, at which point all five of them walked into the entry to Flack's room.

"He's looking up?" Hawkes asked, reading his chart.

"Yeah," Stella answered. "Um, his neurological eval is set for tomorrow."

Taylor sighed. "They say there's room for cautious optimism."

Hawkes put the chart down so that he could squeeze Taylor's shoulder. "Cautious optimism. Another way of saying, the miracles of modern medicine."

Taylor shut her eyes and rested her head back on her arm, just giving a small nod as she did so.

"You know," Stella spoke up, observing the room's very tired and drained looking occupants. "He's on round the clock care. We don't all have to stay and watch."

"We don't _have_ to," Mac agreed. Taylor could tell that he, like her, wasn't going anywhere in the immediate future.

Stella nodded. "True. Black coffee, two sugars, right?" She looked over at Taylor, "What about you, Taylor?"

Taylor looked at Flack: he would know the answer to that. Instead of asking for the chocolaty coffee she just asked for it regular. "The same, thanks." Stella gave her a quick worried look before leaving the room.

"I think I'm going to go talk to his neurologist, find out what time his CAT scan's scheduled," said Hawkes, disappearing after Stella.

Danny turned to Lindsay. "Still want that ride?"

Lindsay nodded. "Yeah, sure. Night Mac, night Taylor."

Danny looked over at Taylor. "Call if anything changes, alright?"

Taylor nodded vaguely. If everything worked out right, there would be no need for phone calls. She managed a small smile as the two left.

Mac walked over and looked down at the sleeping detective. "Are you alright, Taylor?"

Taylor shrugged, "I'm not the one lying in a coma."

"You didn't answer the question."

Taylor frowned, "I will be," she told him, after a long silence.

Stella returned, coffee in tow. She gave Taylor hers and then she and Mac went outside to sit back down. "I'm glad you stayed," said Mac quietly, looking down at his coffee.

Stella smiled at him. "Mac, that's what we do. We take care of each other."

"Stella, I…"

"Yes?"

Mac sighed. "Thank you."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," she told him softly, resting her head against his shoulder.

Mac smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

_Sunday, October 31st, 20:17_

Danny pulled up outside Lindsay's apartment and unlocked the car doors.

"Thank you," said Lindsay softly. She started to get out of the car and hesitated. "Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"Are _you_ going to be alright?" she asked him softly.

Danny nodded, "Yeah, I will be, Montana."

Lindsay gave him a smile and started to get out, but stopped when she felt his hand on her arm. "What's the matter, Danny?" she asked him as she turned back.

The only answer she got was his lips on hers – a firm, yet hesitant kiss.

Danny pulled away and stared at her, watching as she blinked, still surprised. "I'm sorry," he apologised. "Actually," he said before Lindsay could even begin to remember how to string a sentence together. "No, I'm not. I've wanted to do that for a long time."

Lindsay rolled her eyes, surprising Danny – that was not the reaction he was expecting. And neither was the first sentence to leave her mouth. "Took you long enough."

Danny stared at her, certain he was hearing things. "Huh?"

"I've been waiting for that since you walked me home from Sam's Steakhouse."

Danny frowned. "You could have made the first move, you know?"

"What, before or after you invited Taylor and Flack along?"

"I, uh…" Danny looked sheepishly into his lap. "I was scared."

"Of what?" Lindsay scoffed. "That I would slap your face in the middle of the restaurant?"

"No, that you would kiss me back."

Lindsay laughed. "Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds?"

Danny just looked at his lap. "If you liked me back, then you would have to know about me, and then you _wouldn't_ like me back."

Lindsay screwed up her forehead in confusion. "I think that made sense." She leant over and turned his face to meet hers. "Danny, we all have skeletons in our closet. Even me." She pressed her lips against his. "I'm not going anywhere," she giggled. "Except maybe my apartment." Danny's eyes lit up. Lindsay, in turn, smacked him upside the head. "That wasn't an invitation to jump into bed with me, Messer."

Danny smirked, "Can't blame a guy for trying."

"You want to come up?" Danny arched his eyebrows. "That wasn't an invitation to jump into bed with me, either."

Danny smirked again, "Pah, give me time."

_Monday, November 1st, 00:23_

Taylor awoke, stiff from the uncomfortable position she had fallen asleep in. She started to stretch, but stopped suddenly when she realised that Flack was holding onto her hand, not letting go.

"Flack?" she asked softly. "Don?"

The sleeping detective showed no sign of hearing her.

Taylor looked up to the seats. Stella had left when Frankie picked her up a few hours ago, and by the looks of things, Mac had left whilst she had been sleeping. She yawned and settled back down. And then she felt his hand spasm. Her head shot back up.

"Don?"

Nothing.

"Don. Can hear me?" Taylor bit her lip. "Squeeze my hand. Squeeze my hand, Don." She sat there staring at him, and then there was pressure applied to her fingers – he was squeezing her hand. "Thank you," Taylor whispered. "Oh, God, thank you."


	77. Christmas Miracles

_26/07/2006_

**Chapter 76: Christmas Miracles**

Fifty five days of hell. That was what Taylor had been through. It was now three am on Christmas Day morning and Taylor was sat in her usual seat watching over the still coma-ridden detective.

Her eyes were permanently red rimmed from a combination of lack of sleep, and tears that the lack of sleep allowed for her to shed so often. She fingered the ribbon on his present – a guitar – and sighed. It was killing her that the only time she could be there was the dead of night.

_._

_Three days after Flack had been moved into the recovery room, his parents arrived. They had been in New Orleans visiting his sister (who was going to come up on a later flight after she had arranged for childcare) and that was the earliest they could get back to New York._

_Taylor had been sat in the very same chair, just watching his chest rise and fall. She had barely left his bedside, short of going to his en suite bathroom. Marty had called in with a bag of her things for her when he figured she wouldn't be home in a while._

_When the nurse came in and awoke her that morning (the nurses had no problem with Taylor staying – most of them assumed she was his girlfriend anyway) she knew it wasn't going to be a good day - for her, not Flack._

_While the nurse took his vitals and other observations, Taylor ducked into his bathroom for a wash. When she came out a man who looked like an older version of Flack, and a woman with the same blue eyes, were entering the room. Both were looking suspiciously at Taylor._

_"Hi," she offered as she tried, unsuccessfully, to discreetly push her toothbrush into her bag. Flack's mother ignored her and went straight to the seat Taylor had previously occupied and began stroking Flack's face, muttering, "Oh, my poor baby," under her breath._

_Flack's father, however, just glared at Taylor. "Who are you?" he demanded._

_Taylor could see where Flack got his 'intimidating detective' routine from. "I… I'm Taylor Turner, sir."_

_"Get out," he told her. Taylor blinked – that was not quite the reaction she was expecting. "I will not have some two-bit, trashy reporter lurking around my son, waiting for an exclusive story, whilst he is trying to recover."_

_"With all due respect, sir, I don't need to talk to your son for a story," Taylor retorted. "I was there, right next to him when the bomb exploded."_

_Flack Senior's eyes bulged. "You're the reason my son is in here?"_

_"No," said Taylor carefully. "Lessing is the man who set the bombs. He is the reason Don is in here."_

_"Are you saying that you're not the girl Donnie was saving?" his mother piped up, clearly taking her husband's side._

_"I was one of the people in the building, but I wasn't the only one," Taylor corrected her._

_"Well then, you are the reason my baby is in here fighting for his life," said Mrs Flack. "You shouldn't have been in the building."_

_"It's where I work, and we have every right to be working there, even on a Sunday," Taylor told her, trying not to do so through gritted teeth._

_"Get out," Flack Senior repeated._

_Taylor looked at him. He had an 'end of discussion' expression on his face – and decided that maybe the best course of action was to leave and return later._

_Only, Flack Senior seemed to be on the same wavelength. He followed her out of the room and called after her. "Don't come back. I don't want you anywhere near my son, ever again!"_

_._

And that was how Taylor came to spending the nights and early mornings with Don, without his parent's knowledge. She knew she was tempting fate, but she couldn't leave him until he was awake. Just in case...

During the visiting hours, she was usually around, hiding out in the nurse's office. After she had been kicked out of Flack's room, she had burst into tears. The nurses had ushered her into their staff room and unanimously agreed that they would look the other way if she stayed the night, as well as telling her that they would wake her – they had also agreed she could sleep in one of the cots during the day, when Flack's parents were around – should anything go wrong.

Ghost wise, she had had no visits other than from Aiden and Maddy.

.

_It was the middle of the night, and the only sounds were the beeping of Flack's machines and his steady breathing. That was until Maddy and Aiden appeared: together, it was near impossible for a room to remain quiet._

_"Hey, Tay," Maddy greeted her friend. "How you holding up?" _

_Taylor simply sent her a scathing look._

_Maddy held her hands up. "Hey, it wasn't my fault."_

_"You could have warned me!" Taylor exclaimed._

_"I tried," Aiden told her with a shrug._

_"Tried? It was more like a hypothetical question. 'What would I do if he died before next week even started'?" Taylor rolled her eyes._

_"I'm sorry. I got in enough trouble over that as it was."_

_Taylor rubbed her eyes. "No, I'm sorry," she sighed. "I'm just not really sleeping at the moment. My temper's a little short."_

_There was a slight awkward silence, which Aiden promptly broke. "So guess what we've been doing?"_

_Taylor managed a small smile, thankful for the relief the change of conversation brought. "Do I want to know?"_

_"Well, we answered many of life's unanswered questions," Maddy told her, gleefully._

_"So, what's the meaning of life?"_

_Maddy pulled a face. "Not those types of questions. They're boring."_

_Aiden laughed. "Mac does actually have an apartment! He doesn't live at the lab. He has a pet cat, too. Called Smudge!" She cracked up laughing._

_"And Danny sleeps nude," Maddy smirked. Taylor wasn't surprised Maddy enjoyed that fact._

_"Okay enough of the mental images of Danny naked," said Aiden, rolling her eyes, "The guy is like a brother: that's just wrong."_

_"For you maybe," grinned Maddy. "All I can say is Lindsay is going to be one happy girl." Taylor arched an eyebrow in question. Maddy and Aiden's jaws dropped open. "You don't know?" asked Maddy, rather melodramatically._

_"Know what?" Taylor sighed._

_"Danny and Lindsay are an unofficial item."_

_"What do you mean, unofficial item?" she asked slowly._

_"They're seeing each other, but they haven't told anyone."_

_"Perhaps that's how I don't know," Taylor responded, sarcasm lacing her tone. "About time that boy caved."_

_"Well, it seemed like they were moving in the right direction, but we speeded up the process," said Maddy mysteriously._

_Taylor pulled a face. "Again, do I want to know?"_

_Aiden laughed. "I nabbed Lindsay's phone and sent Danny a text. They haven't left each other's side since."_

_Taylor grinned. "I knew Lindsay wouldn't care about his past."_

_"Actually," said Maddy. "He hasn't told her yet."_

_Taylor groaned. "Well, it's a start, at least."_

_Aiden nodded. "Give him time."_

_"That's quite a prophetic statement."_

_"Um, Taylor, I'm dead, not psychic," Aiden said, rolling her eyes._

_._

The first day she left the hospital hadn't been until Thanksgiving. She didn't have any plans, and therefore had no intention of leaving, but Marty had been in and dragged her back home. Something which she was later extremely thankful for.

_"Marty? What are you doing here? It's 7am!"_

_Marty shrugged. "Taking you home."_

_Taylor shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere."_

_"No, not until visiting hours, when you'll hide in the nurse's station."_

_Taylor's mouth dropped open. "How do you know about that?"_

_Marty sighed. "The whole lab knows, Taylor. Mac calls daily to see how Flack is doing, and when the nurses told him you had practically moved in, he started checking up on you too."_

_"Really?" asked Taylor in disbelief._

_Marty nodded. "We also all know how Flack's parents won't let you visit. Mac has tried to get them to change their minds, but they won't listen to him."_

_Taylor nodded miserably. "In their eyes, I'm like a vulture, hovering around, waiting for a story."_

_"Anyway," Marty continued, quickly continued so Taylor couldn't dwell on that fact. "Mac and Lindsay are working; Danny's with his brother and parents at the hospital; Stella's with her boyfriend; and Hawkes got roped into doing something for his Sid. Which leaves me with a turkey in the oven and no one to eat it."_

_Taylor blinked. "Huh?"_

_"I'm cooking dinner, for both of us," he looked her over. "Because it is blatantly obvious to anyone that looks at you that you've been nibbling at that disgusting hospital food. Ill people don't like it so lord knows why you have to stomach it."_

_Taylor bit her lip. "Will you make Irish Mash?"_

_Marty smiled. "I'm not letting you anywhere near the kitchen, so I guess I had better." It was a little known fact that Taylor couldn't cook. Her mother was a fabulous cook, but it had been her brother who had inherited that gene. No, Taylor was the kind of person who could destroy anything. Practically the only 'cooking' she could manage was Easy Mac. And that was pushing it._

_Taylor took one last look at Flack and left._

_._

Taylor awoke with a start. It was nearly nine, nearly time for the extended visiting hours. She rubbed her eyes and glanced sadly at the sleeping detective. According to the doctors, they were hoping for a Christmas miracle with him: if he didn't wake up soon, it was unlikely he would. Up until now, they had been reassuring her that the coma was the body's best way of healing, much like they had with Louie, and indeed, the internal injuries were much better. That being said, even if he were to wake up now, he would still be off work for at least a fortnight, and that was if he was lucky. The upside was, he would be able to be discharged by the New Year.

Taylor leant over and gave him a kiss on the forehead before gathering up her things and leaving. Truth be told, she had no interest in Christmas anyway, but Marty was cooking again, and she had had to promise him she would be there. She couldn't hide out in the nurses' station all day, either.

. . .

Don shifted in discomfort, trying to roll over onto his left side, into a more comfortable position, but as he did, he was met by several things. The first was an excruciating burning sensation in his side, which, when he followed with a moan of pain, was met with a squeal of delight. And this of course just infuriated his already pounding head.

As he opened his eyes to bright lights – and more pain – he knew instantly that he was in a hospital. His mother's face looming over him just confirmed that. But when he spotted the garish Christmas decorations, he knew something bad had happened. The thing was, he couldn't remember _any_ of it. The last thing he could remember, was talking to Lindsay about block parties. So how had block parties escalated into a hospital bed?

By the evening, his father had filled him in, and extra details had been added, when everyone else came to visit. Everyone, that was, except Taylor. According to his father, she hadn't been to see him since they had arrived (some eight weeks ago!). Flack's eyes narrowed – he expected more from her. Evidently not.

. . .

Taylor had just sat down with Marty to open their Christmas presents. She had only gotten so far as opening his – a new cell phone (hers had never been seen again after the bomb) when the apartment's phone started ringing.

"It's probably your mother, again," Marty smirked. Her mother had been calling daily to try to reach Taylor, and most of the time got only the machine. Something which annoyed her incredibly. Eventually taking pity on the woman, Marty had been the one talking to her, instead of the machine, answering the phone in Taylor's place.

The machine beeped and the two of them sat back to listen to the message, expecting another rant. Except it wasn't Taylor's mother. It was Danny.

"Hey Drew, Marty, it's Danny. I'm at the hospital… Trinity, with Flack. Good news – he's awake. You should probably come over. He wants to play monopoly – someone left him it, and I can't stand the game. See you soon, and Merry Christmas!"

Taylor blinked at the machine before looking at Marty. He nodded. "Let me turn the oven off and we'll go."

A short time later, due to a surprisingly low amount of traffic on the roads, the two were walking down the corridor to Flack's room, where everyone was gathered, bar his siblings. Marty entered first.

"Flack, my man, about time you woke up." Marty looked him up and down. "Perhaps you should go back to sleep though, because you certainly didn't get enough beauty sleep."

Flack grinned. "Glad to know you missed me, Pino. I bet you've been taking advantage of me not being on the court."

"Flack, I can't wait until you're upright, because I am going to wipe the floor with you," Marty corrected him, grinning good-naturedly.

"Whatever," Flack scoffed. "I could play from this bed and still whup your ass. Tell him, Danny."

"It doesn't matter, because I could beat both you ladies, with my hands tied behind my back," Danny chimed in.

Lindsay laughed. "That's only because your fat head would block all the shots," she snorted at him.

"Ouch, Montana," Danny clutched at his chest. "That hurts me, right here!"

"Get over yourself, Messer," she told him rolling her eyes, although a grin was plastered on her face.

Taylor observed the room from the doorway, yet to be noticed, and took a hesitant step in. The room fell silent as eyes turned to her. "Hi, Don," she said softly.

She was met with cold, blue eyes, almost glaring at her. "Taylor," he said curtly.

Her smile turned into a strained one. Clearly his father had said something.

As luck would have it, his father walked over to her. "What did I tell you?"

"I'm not going to stay," she told him, fighting to keep control of her voice. "I just wanted to see for myself that your son was alright. Merry Christmas, everyone." She turned quickly and left, before anyone could see the tears in her eyes. Tears of happiness and pain. At the end of the day, she was just relieved he was alive, even if she wasn't enjoying the feeling with everyone else.


	78. A New Beginning For A New Year

_29/07/2006_

**Chapter 77: A New Beginning For A New Year**

Flack lay awake in his own bed, thankful to be home. He hadn't told anyone other than his parents that he was being discharged, seeing as he really didn't want a party. As a result, three days ago, he had left the hospital and was tucked up in his own bed with his mother mothering him, before anybody realised.

And things had gone downhill from there.

He'd had enough. And it was time Donald Stephen Flack Junior did something about it. He was crazy about Taylor, lying awake for the fourth consecutive night was clearly proof enough.

And something told him that she felt the same way: why else would she have stayed by his bed whilst he was in hospital? That was, given what Stella had told him was true… but why would _she_ lie? She had called around the previous afternoon and called him on his ignorance, pointing out that Taylor had made the hospital her second home so she could be with him when his parents weren't. "Don," Stella started patiently from the seat beside his bed. "You know I love you, right?"

Flack smirked at her. "Who doesn't?"

"Glad to see the blast didn't do anything to your sense of humour," Stella smirked. "But seriously, I tell you this out of my love for you. Donald Flack, you are an idiot."

Flack's jaw dropped. That was not exactly the welcome home he was expecting.

"Taylor has practically been living at that hospital - she barely left your side the entire time."

Flack frowned, "So why would my dad say she had never been there?"

"Because your father or mother didn't know she was there," Stella enlightened him.

Flack scowled. "If she was there the entire time, how could they not know?"

"Taylor was there with you until your parents arrived. According to the nurses, your father got really angry at her, accusing her of only being there for an exclusive story. Your mother blamed her for being the reason why you were in the hospital bed. They kicked her out," Stella smiled. "Thankfully, the girl is made of stronger stuff. She spent the visiting hours in the nurses' station and the nights with you. Didn't you notice how exhausted the poor girl looked when she came to see you? I think the only reason she left was so that there wouldn't be an argument between you and your parents."

Flack had gone ballistic when he found out that his parents had turfed her out. So much for trying to prevent an argument.

Too much time was being wasted. He'd nearly lost her once… twice now. When he thought she was dead when they found her in the park, and when he had died. And he had died. He knew it. Because she had been his angel and saved him.

If there was one thing that Flack knew for certain, it was that if he was going to lose her for a third time, it wasn't going to be because of his father.

The argument over that hadn't been pretty, and the result was that his parents moved out of his and went back home. He was too like his father, in many ways. Stubborn was just one of them.

And that was why, at 4.23 in the first morning of the New Year, he was pulling up outside Taylor's apartment building.

He jammed his finger against the call button of the elevator impatiently. Deciding it was taking too long, he headed for the stairs, running (or at least hurriedly shuffling) up the twenty four flights and ignoring the burning pain in his side.

That was until he standing outside Taylor's door, or rather, collapsing outside it. It wasn't until then he had the thought that just because he couldn't go out to celebrate the New Year, didn't mean she wouldn't either. If she wasn't there…

He tried to catch his breath, but instead of the pain subsiding, it got worse – so much so, he could hardly knock at the door. As he fell to his knees, he wasn't even sure that, if Taylor was in, it was actually loud enough for her to hear it.

Fortunately, it was, and Taylor opened the door, bleary eyed. She gasped in horror as she dropped to her knees, "Flack!"

He could feel her pull one of his arms over her shoulder as she half carried, half helped him walk to her bedroom, shouting for Marty as she did so.

Flack shut his eyes. Not from the pain, but from the embarrassment. This was not the romantic gesture he had envisioned! And to add salt to the wound, Marty was going to hear his declaration.

Marty appeared in the doorway, wearing only a pair of boxers and looking half asleep. He revived himself as quickly as Taylor had as soon as he saw the injured detective. Running over, he pulled open Flack's shirt and frowned. He had pulled two stitched loose. "You need to see a doctor," he told him.

"You are a doctor," Flack moaned. He'd had enough of hospitals.

"Flack, you need stitches replaced and I don't want to do them myself without any anaesthetic. It'll hurt."

"I'll be fine in a minute," he gasped.

"Don, your blood is soaking through your shirt," Taylor told him.

Flack looked up at her, surprised at the worry in her voice. He then looked down and spotted the blood which was seeping through his clean, sky blue shirt. His grandmother had always impressed upon him as a young boy that, as well as being able to dance, that a clean, ironed shirt was the first step to making a good impression. (That was why he always made sure he had a freshly pressed shirt ready for the following day by the time he went to bed.)

He took one last look at the blood and passed out.

. . .

Taylor, after pacing up and down alongside her bed, had called 911 and Doc and Carlos had turned up. Between the both of them and Marty, they had re-stitched his wound and stopped the bleeding. Taylor had relieved Flack of the now ruined shirt and tucked his feet into her bed. She moved to her chair and sat down, experiencing the strongest feeling of déjà-vu as she watched him sleep.

"Taylor," he groaned, before waking up. He groaned again as he surveyed the unfamiliar bedroom, until his eyes finally came to rest on Taylor's tear stained black orbs.

Taylor moved to sit beside him on her bed and rested the back of her hand against his forehead. It had finally cooled down. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore as hell." Taylor leant over and punched him on his arm. "What the hell was that for?" he roared.

"For scaring the hell out of me," she told him furiously. "What on earth possessed you to come around to mine at this unearthly time in a morning? What the hell are you doing out of the hospital, for that matter?" She shook her head. "Either way, you're clearly not fit to be at work, so why storm around here?" She glared at him. "The world had better be ending, Don, because I am not afraid to use you as a human punch bag!"

Flack looked down, suddenly finding his hands very interesting. "I thought it was," he said quietly.

"Come again?" asked Taylor, a little surprised at his response.

Flack looked up at her. If he was going to say this, then he was going to say it properly. "Taylor, there's something I need to say to you, and I don't want you to say anything until I am finished?" Taylor looked at him, frowned, and then nodded. Flack took a deep breath. "Taylor, I'm an idiot."

"No kidding," she snorted. "Only-"

"Taylor, please." Taylor sat back – certain it wasn't good news. "I am an idiot," he repeated. "For listening to my father for starters – Stella told me what he, and what you, did." He glanced back at his hands, and fought the urge to keep them there. Instead he flicked them back up to Taylor. "I'm sorry. I should have known when I saw the Monopoly box." He bit his lip. This had been a lot easier in his head when he had driven over. He reached over, ignoring the pain which shot up his side, and grabbed her hand. "You saved me. I didn't believe you, and yet you saved my life. And Maddy and Aiden were there," he frowned – Aiden was a topic he was going to bring up later. "And I just want you to know that… thank you."

Taylor looked at him. "You're welcome," she said quietly.

"No, that's not what I meant," he shook his head. "Yeah, it is what I meant, but that's not how I wanted to say it. Damnit, you're really off-putting."

Taylor frowned. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" he said fiercely. "Not at all. Not ever. Taylor, I am falling in love with you, so quickly that it scares me, but it scares me in a good way – I have never felt this way before. And I want you to know that I trust you to. I believe you, and I'm so sorry that I was so stubborn not to do so sooner, that it took what it did. I just hope that I haven't left it too late." Taylor just stared at him, tears in her eyes. Flack shifted uncomfortably, the déjà-vu feeling heading his way. "Now would be a good time to say something," he whispered. Yep, déjà-vu. He mentally braced himself, expecting the same reaction.

"It is too late," she told him softly.

Flack's hope plummeted downwards into the pits of his stomach.

"It's too late," she repeated, causing him to look up. "Because I fell for you long before you believed in me. And now," the tears were streaming down her cheeks. "All I want to do is kiss you."

"Then why don't you?" Flack asked, scared at the answer.

"Because I'm scared of hurting you," she burst out, suddenly sobbing uncontrollably.

Flack looked at her and burst out laughing. He was so relieved and so happy. "Come here, woman," he tugged at the hand he was still holding onto and pulled her into his arms. Using his thumbs, he wiped her tears from her face before leaning down and kissing her.

The kiss, in Taylor's eyes, was perfect, and it was only because of the need for oxygen that she reluctantly pulled away. She tipped her head downwards, and Flack rested his chin on her forehead. "Promise me something," she muttered.

"Anything."

"Don't scare me again, Don. I lost you once, and I don't want to have to go through that again, because I won't get you back. I don't want a hero – I just want you." She pulled her head upwards after Flack pressed a kiss onto her forehead, "Don?"

Flack smiled. "You called me Don."

"That's because you're not being a jerk, but if you don't respond, it's going to be Flack again," Taylor mumbled at him.

Flack pulled her face so that it was millimetres from his. "Taylor," he said softly. "You have me. I'm going nowhere unless you're by my side." He closed the gap between their lips – in his opinion, no one had ever tasted so good.


	79. Snowed In

_30/07/2006_

**Chapter 78: Snowed In**

"Stop staring at me," Flack muttered, his eyes still closed.

"I can't help it," Taylor sighed, gently stroking the side of his face. "Besides, I've been doing it for the last two months, so suck it up."

Flack opened his eyes and smiled at her. They were lying in Taylor's bed, facing each other, their faces close together. "You're a nice thing to wake up to in a morning," he muttered.

Taylor arched an eyebrow. "Does that line usually work?"

Flack grinned and moved his head to kiss her. "You tell me?" he asked when he pulled away.

Taylor just smiled. "Go back to sleep. It's early."

Flack raised his head to look at the clock. It was only eight. He frowned. They had both gone to sleep sometime around five. "So what are you doing up, then?"

"Can't sleep," Taylor shrugged, her eyes not meeting his.

Flack studied her. "Why not?"

"I got into the habit of not doing," she choked out.

Flack's eyes narrowed and he cupped her face in his hand. "Talk to me Taylor."

When Taylor brought her eyes to meet his, he found that they were lined with fear. "Because I'm scared that you'll get taken away from me again."

Flack's heart broke. He pulled her close to him, holding her tightly. "I'm not going anywhere," he told her, talking into her hair.

Taylor tightened her arms around him. In all honesty, she had no idea how she had made it this long. She had been on the verge of breaking point for so long – it was such a relief to be in this position.

"Aiden and Maddy were there," he said softly. It was a statement – not a question. Taylor pulled away from him, ever so slightly – just enough that she could see his face. She nodded. Flack pursed his lips. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have listened?" she asked softly.

Flack sighed. "I guess not. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," she smiled.

"No, it's not."

Taylor found his hand and linked her fingers through his. "It is now," she told him, firmly.

Flack nodded. "Who else knows?"

"Marty and Danny know about Maddy, but you're the only person who knows about Aiden. She asked me not to say anything. If it got back to, well, anybody, but _especially_ Danny, he wouldn't take it well."

"Why them?" Flack asked, curiously.

"Maddy's been helping me since just after her funeral. She keeps the victim company. And Aiden, well, she's like…" Taylor frowned thoughtfully. "Maddy called her my guardian angel. I suppose she is. She punched Pratt."

Flack's eyes widened. "You mean he wasn't making that up?"

Taylor grinned and shook her head, "Aiden has quite the punch on her," she frowned. "Which I suppose technically makes her more of a poltergeist than a ghost."

"And who was the other guy?"

Taylor frowned. "What other guy?"

Flack shrugged. "I don't know. He was there in the hospital."

"Oh, he was one of the allusive Powers That Be," Taylor replied.

"The Powers That Be?" Flack repeated.

"Think of heaven as a corporate system," she told her, repeating how it had been described to her.

"Right," Flack muttered slowly.

"Yeah, it took me a while to get my head around that one too," she admitted.

"So let me get this right, Maddy and Aiden are dead, but they managed to get jobs in heaven as a guide and a bodyguard?" Taylor nodded with a shrug. She kissed him again, before pushing herself into a sitting position. "Where are you going?" Flack asked her.

Taylor pulled back the covers to reveal his still bare chest. Her fingers snaked down for the bandages. "Nowhere. I'm checking your wound is alright."

Flack grabbed her cast-ridden hand. "It doesn't matter," he told her.

Taylor glared at him. "It doesn't matter?" she repeated in disbelief. "Flack, you collapsed outside my door at four in the morning. Don't start telling me it doesn't matter."

"Hey," said Flack softly. "I'm fine."

"That's not the point." Taylor couldn't help it. The tears were back. "It scared me, Don... You _scared_ me." Flack sat up, ignoring the pain which was shooting through his side, tucked her hair behind her ears and brought her into a tight embrace. It was a soft knock at the door which disturbed them. Taylor pulled away and quickly wiped the tears away. "Yeah?"

Marty stuck his head around the door. "I come bearing coffee?"

Flack frowned at him. "You were assuming we were up?" he asked as Marty entered carrying three mugs.

Marty shrugged handing one over to him. "I figured Taylor would be." He handed her a mug of hot chocolate. "You sleep alright?" he asked her.

Taylor knew exactly what he was referring to. The main reason she slept so badly was, of course because of the fear that Flack wouldn't wake up, but because of the nightmares which plagued her dreams. They were all variants of the same thing.

It would always be in the Daily's building, and the bomb would always go off, but it wasn't always Flack with half his abdomen open for the world to see. He would be replaced with herself, Mac, her father, Maddy. Even her brother. And then the image would shift to the hospital relative's room and the argument with The Powers That Be. Except it was never Matthew. She would either find herself arguing with herself, or with Flack Senior, and most of the time, she never won the argument.

"I got some," she told him vaguely. She didn't want Flack to know about the nightmares. He'd already lived it once. He didn't need to live it again.

Marty pursed his lips and nodded, catching on immediately that she hadn't told Flack about them. He walked over to her window and pulled the curtains back. "Snow," he told them, simply.

Flack and Taylor turned to the window. Snow was something of an understatement. Blizzard was more like it. Taylor got out of bed and over to the window. The world was white and even from as far up as she was, she could tell that it was settling well. The alleyway below was hidden beneath several feet of snow.

"It's coming down from Canada," Marty told them. "They think it's likely to stick around this bad for the best part of a week. And it's going to be a cold winter." Taylor arched an eyebrow at him. "Watched the news," he shrugged.

"Didn't you go out last night?" Flack asked him.

"I wish," Marty sighed. "Sid had some hot date – I was working until three. Thankfully the morgue is closed today."

"What happens if someone dies?" Taylor asked.

Marty laughed. "Well, I doubt the body would get to the morgue in this weather as it is, but there will be some unfortunate soul down there to put them away. It's only closed for autopsies."

"Oh," Taylor took a sip of her drink. "How are we for food?"

"We're stocked up, don't worry."

Taylor smiled. "Good. I think that I'll make us dinner today."

As soon as the words left her lips, Marty actually visibly paled.

"What's the matter, Marty?" Flack asked.

"Um, nothing," he said carefully. "Why don't you let me take care of the cooking?" he suggested to Taylor.

"What's wrong with me cooking dinner?" Taylor asked suspiciously.

She may have been the world's worst cook, but she didn't personally think she was _that_ bad. Besides, it wasn't like she wanted to cook a three course banquet.

"Nothing," said Marty, hurriedly. "But I figured you two would want to spend as much time together as possible."

The statement seemed to appease Taylor. "Fair enough. But give me a shout if you need a-"

"I'll be fine, don't worry." He gave her a reassuring smile and hurried out of the room.

Taylor glared at the door as it was shut behind him. Flack got out of her bed and walked over to her. "So, I'm stuck here, eh?"

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Make that sound like a bad thing then."

Flack grinned. "Oh, I can think of several things we can do to keep ourselves occupied."

Taylor took a step back and glared up at him. "Yeah, and you can keep on thinking about them, because it's not going to happen."

Flack pouted. "I never said anything."

"You didn't have to," Taylor quickly informed him. "Your eyes gave it away. And quit with those Bambi eyes, because I'm not changing my mind. There's not going to be anything happening between us until you are back behind a desk. Besides, I would have thought you'd have had enough of beds for now."

Flack shrugged. "Not if you're in it with me."

"Nice as that sounds, it's not going to work."

"Whatever you want," Flack assured her.

Taylor smiled. "Come on, you get a shower, and I'll get Marty to lend you some of his clothes."

Flack leant over and kissed her. "I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be stuck."

"Shower's that way, Charmer," she grinned.

. . .

The rest of the day was spent most unconstructively, lounging around the apartment talking, or watching films. "What happened to your column?" Flack asked suddenly. The two were sat in bed, wrapped up under her duvet, watching the David Letterman Show.

"I'm taking a break," said Taylor.

Flack frowned. "A break?"

Taylor sighed. "My office got blown up, remember. I can't write for something that isn't there."

"What's happening with the Daily?"

"It's temporarily merged with its sister paper, The New York Weekly, which thankfully is housed on the other side of the island. They're rebuilding the building, but it was really badly damaged. The Daily won't be up and running again properly until the end of the month," Taylor explained.

"And in the mean time you're doing nothing?"

Taylor nodded. "Alex said that I could continue to do a weekly column if I wanted, but when he finally tracked me down at the hospital, he realised that I wouldn't want to, and told me that he would continue to pay me anyway. He told me I was one of the best things that had happened to the paper, which was nice, and he didn't want to lose me to another paper."

"So, you're getting paid to do nothing?" Flack asked incredulously.

"Yeah, but I haven't taken a holiday in four years either. Besides, Don, so are you," she pointed out.

"True," he chuckled. "But I'll be wanting back in the field soon enough."

"Thanks," Taylor pouted.

"It's alright, I've got that guitar to keep me occupied," he said, referring to the one Taylor had bought him. He was surprised she'd remembered. He'd only mentioned in passing that he'd always wanted to learn to play. Taylor smiled and leant for her phone. "Who are you calling?" he asked her suspiciously.

"Alex. Tell him that I'm ready to go back to work full-time."

Flack snatched her cell out of her hand and flung it onto the chair out of the way. "Nice try, Tay."

Taylor gave him an innocent face. "Well, you have your guitar to occupy yourself with. One can only listen to you doing a fantastic impression of a strangled cat for so long."

"You'll regret saying that," he told her in mock anger.

"Oh, what are you going to do? Torture me with your attempts to break glass?" Taylor mocked him.

"Heh, heh, heh." He pulled a face at her.

"You're so cute when you're sulking," she told him, reaching up and kissing him.


	80. Long Road To Recovery

_01/08/2006_

**Chapter 79: Long Road To Recovery**

The weather did exactly as Marty said it would, and snowed furiously for the best part of a week. The city ground almost to a standstill – not that Taylor or Flack noticed. They spent the time at Taylor's, content to spend the time with each other in the warmth of the apartment. The only time they left it was to take Flack's SUV back to his so that they could pick some of his things and bring them back to Taylor's.

It wasn't until the 10th that either of them _had_ to leave the apartment: time for Flack's first check-up. Donning their long, thick coats, the two of them set off early, deciding that because it had actually stopped snowing, they would take the subway and walk.

The roads were a lot busier than the sidewalks. Most people had decided that it was far too cold to be out and about and as a result, the walk to the subway station was quick. The subway was just as empty. It wasn't much warmer down there either. As they came up, just a few blocks from Trinity, Flack grabbed Taylor's hand in his and thrust them both in his pocket.

"We should do something later," he told her, his breath in the cold air making him look like a heavy smoker.

"What do you have in mind?" Taylor asked, peering up at him.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Have Lindsay and Danny round." His eyes lit up. "We could play Monopoly." Taylor choked back a giggle. "What are you laughing at?"

"Monopoly?" she blurted out with a snort.

"Well, we've spent the last week watching television, and it's not like we… well, I, can drink, and we… I, can go out and do something."

"Gee, you're quite the party pooper, aren't you," Taylor moaned.

Flack glanced down and caught the twinkle in her eye that said she was only joking. "I'm the patient," he shrugged at her.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "And I'm the nurse, and I make the rules in my hospital."

"And why haven't I seen this nurse's outfit?" he smirked.

"Because it wouldn't stay on for long," Taylor shrugged.

"And that's a problem how?" Flack asked her, still smirking at her.

Taylor just rolled her eyes. "Mind, gutter: out, Flack."

Flack stopped and turned to face her. "Promise me I can see this outfit when I'm better."

Taylor chewed on her lip, gazing at him thoughtfully. "Depends on if you're good."

Flack frowned. "What are you? My mother?"

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "You want to sleep with your mother?"

Flack's eyes almost popped out of her head. "Taylor!" he objected. "That is not an image I want in my head."

Taylor stood on her toes to kiss him. "Well keep the thoughts of me in a nurse's outfit out of your head until you're better."

Flack smirked: time for some payback. "Who said I had thoughts of you in a nurses outfit in my head. I was thinking more along the lines of Jessica Alba."

Taylor smirked back. She knew exactly what he was doing. "Mmmm," she licked her lips. "Jessica Alba in a nurse's outfit." Flack's jaw dropped open. Taylor was back on her toes, whispering in his ear. "I win." And with that, she carried on walking towards the doctor's office.

"Hey!" Flack called after her. "That's not fair!"

. . .

Taylor sat outside the doctor's office flicking through some tabloid magazines. Flack had been in for a while. Finally the door opened and he walked out. Taylor stood up and waited, his face was giving nothing away. "Eight days," he told her.

"Eight days and you can go back to work?"

"No, eight days, and he's back for a check-up," said the doctor. "And if he passes that, _then_ he can return to restricted desk duty."

Flack turned. "Ah, come on," he pleaded.

"No, detective. You can return in eight days and not a day sooner."

Flack muttered something indistinguishable under his breath as he wrapped his scarf back around his neck. Taylor cast the doctor a sympathetic look and hurried after Flack. "Eight days isn't that long," she told him, grabbing his arm.

Eight days was long enough. Especially when you were sharing a bed with a woman you couldn't do the things that were buzzing around his head on a nightly basis. He sighed. "Want to call in at the lab on the way back, see if Danny and Lindsay are free?"

Taylor nodded. She knew how frustrated Flack was feeling – it was in his blood to be doing something.

The lab was a welcome bustle of activity. The two of them headed wandered down the corridors looking for the two CSIs, finding them busy analysing some fibres in one of the labs. "So you two are alive, then?" smirked Danny as he looked up from magnifying glass.

At the sound of Danny's voice breaking the quiet in the room, Lindsay put down her scalpel and looked over, a large smile on her face. "Glad to see you up and about, Don. When are you back at work?"

"Next week," Flack told them.

"_If_ he's given a clean bill of health," Taylor added.

"Course you will, won't you?" Danny grinned, walking over to clamp his hand on Flack's shoulder. "And what brings you to our neck of the woods?"

"What are you two doing tonight?" Taylor asked them.

"Nothing," said Danny quickly. "What makes you assume we'd be doing anything?"

Taylor's eyes widened. She hadn't told Flack what Aiden and Maddy had told her, but she didn't expect the two of them to still be keeping it quiet.

Flack frowned. "Chill, Messer. We were just wondering if you wanted to come around tonight and play some board games."

Lindsay grinned. "_We_ were wondering? So Marty was telling the truth. You have been staying at Taylor's."

"Got snowed in," Flack shrugged, trying to fight back a smile.

"Is that what you call it these days," Danny smirked, earning himself a smack upside the head from Taylor.

"Flack?" The four of them turned their attention to the door where Mac was standing.

"Hi Mac," smiled Flack.

"I'm happy to hear you're no longer in hospital. How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," said Flack, "ready to be back at work."

"I can understand that feeling," Mac paused, "Taylor, could I see you in my office a minute?" Without waiting for a reply, Mac left.

"Ooooh, someone's in trouble with the boss," teased Danny.

Taylor rolled her eyes and simply smacked Danny again. "I don't work here, doofas," she told him. "How can I be in trouble?"

Danny glared at Flack and Lindsay who were laughing at him. "Well, the amount of time you spent in this building, it's hard to remember that sometimes."

Taylor sniggered. "I'll be right back," she told the three of them, before heading towards Mac's office, wondering exactly what it was he wanted.

Mac was sat behind his desk waiting for her, "Taylor, have a seat."

Taylor did as he suggested. "Hey Mac, what's up?"

"How is Flack doing?"

"Erm, fine?" Taylor offered, confused as to why Mac was questioning her.

Mac sighed. "I have just received a phone call from his chief, who had had a phone call from Flack's doctor. His doctor is worried about him," Mac said, getting straight to the point.

"Oh," said Taylor.

"Flack has shown no interest in going to see the departmental counsellor, or any counsellor, for that matter." Taylor shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "He's not been answering his phone, and I've just seen that he looks tired – exhausted."

"That's my fault," said Taylor quickly informed him, jumping to Flack's defence. "He's been staying at mine since he was discharged." Mac merely raised an eyebrow. "Oh my God, no, not like that," Taylor gushed as she realised how that sentence sounded. "He turned up a week ago, and then it started snowing. He ended up staying, especially as he had no one at his to look after him."

"Stella told me he'd had a pretty heated discussion with his parents," Mac nodded.

"To be honest, I don't know the ins and outs of it, because he doesn't want to talk about it," Taylor sighed. "That and the fact that I was the main cause of it."

"Flack's father was never the easiest of men to get along with," Mac sighed.

"You worked with him?" Taylor asked in surprise.

"He secured a scene or two for me in the past," Mac confirmed. "And I can understand Flack not wanting to talk about it. But what about the explosion? Do you talk about that? Is he suffering from it, and I mean emotionally, rather than physically."

"In all honesty, Mac, he doesn't remember it. The only bit he remembers is afterwards when he-" Taylor quickly stopped herself. She had been about to say, 'when he had died', but that wasn't going to help anyone.

"When he…?"

"When he woke up in the hospital." Taylor quickly continued. "To be fair, the only reason he seems so tired is because of me, and I don't mean because… I don't sleep much anymore."

"Are you alright, Taylor?" Mac asked, studying her carefully. The dark patches under her eyes, and her pale skin hadn't gone unnoticed.

Taylor nodded. "Well, yeah. I mean, this stupid cast is driving me mad," she told him, flicking the pot in irritation.

"When is that due to come off?" Mac asked her.

"Hopefully, early next week. They had to keep it on longer because it broke where I broke it last time. They didn't want it to be a weak heal, only for me to break it again as soon as the cast is off."

"That's understandable," Mac nodded. "But I get the feeling that isn't why you aren't sleeping."

Taylor sighed, "I'm getting better. I just keep having these dreams where Flack isn't there when I wake up. And then I wake up and I find I have to watch him, just to make sure he _is_ there. Which then wakes him up, and we end up just not sleeping."

"Have you considered seeing someone?" Mac suggested.

Taylor let out a dry laugh. "I can honestly say I don't think it would help." It was the truth. Who could she possibly tell everything to, without them instinctively admitting her to a psychiatric hospital?

Mac grabbed a piece of paper and wrote something down on it. "This is the number for Cath Green. She's the police psychiatrist. Don't be afraid to give her a call, whether it be to talk about the bomb, the dead bodies, or even your new relationship." Taylor's hand froze as she grabbed the paper. Mac sighed patiently. "Taylor, you just told me that Flack has been staying at yours for the past week, and Stella has already informed me that the guy is crazy about you."

"I, uh… I just hadn't… it hadn't dawned on me that we were actually in a relationship. We haven't had that talk yet," Taylor admitted, rolling the idea around in her mind.

"I must say, it came as a bit of a surprise. How is Danny taking it?"

Taylor's hand dropped into her lap. "Danny?" It suddenly dawned on her that despite everything, Mac was still under the impression that something had been going on between them. "We… I…" She sighed. "He's fine with it." Mac clearly hadn't picked up on Danny and Lindsay yet, either.

Mac stared at her before taking a deep breath. "Take care of yourself, Taylor. Even though you don't work here, it's strange not to see you in here on a daily basis. Flack needs you to stay strong. And there's nothing wrong with asking for help."

Taylor managed a weak smile, and still clutching tightly to the number Mac had given her, left his office. As soon as she left Mac's eyesight, she glanced down at the number. With a sigh, she crumpled the paper up and dumped it in her bag, where it joined the other crumpled up number of the counsellor Horatio Caine had given her all those months ago.

She shook the fears and melancholy from her head and put on a bright smile as she re-entered the trace lab, "So, are we on for tonight?"

"Is everything ok?" Flack asked, watching her carefully.

"Of course," said Taylor. "Mac was just concerned as to how we were both doing, that's all."

What did you tell him?"

"That we were fine, and that you were already sick of my company and itching to get back to work," Taylor assured him.

Flack gave her a searching look, before nodding. "Thank you."

"We'll be around about as soon as we wrap things up here," Lindsay told her. "Hopefully, it should be around eight, but we'll call if there are any problems."


	81. Dirty Little Secrets

_03/08/2006_

**Chapter 80: Dirty Little Secrets**

"Z-Y-G-O-T-E, Zygote," said Lindsay as she laid the letters down, using the "T" of Danny's "tickle".

After Flack had bankrupted everybody out at Monopoly, the five of them (Marty had joined them) had turned to playing Scrabble.

"Zygote? What the hell is one of them?"

"Ten, twenty, forty points, that's what zygote is," counted Lindsay, as she told Flack, who had asked the question.

Flack frowned. "Is that even a word?"

"It's the cell formed by the union of two gametes," explained Lindsay.

Flack and Taylor looked at each other and shrugged. "H-A-T, hat," Flack laid his tiles down. "Eight points… damn."

"Q-U-I-V-E-R-S," smiled Taylor. "That is a triple word score with a seven letter bonus, and that makes… 144 points."

"Damn," said everyone else, unanimously.

"Scrabble queen, eight years running," Taylor informed them, puffing her chest out.

"Did anyone tell you, you are a complete geek," laughed Flack, wrapping his arms around her.

Taylor grinned. "From the age of four to eleven, I was the Spelling Bee regional champion too. Should have won the nationals too, if it wasn't for Marie Makers. I still think she cheated!"

Danny let out a chuckle, which was turned into a yawn. "Well, we've established that Taylor can spell, Marty is thankfully good Operation, I can whup your asses at Clue-"

"I think you'll find you cheated," Lindsay declared.

Danny pulled a face. "I was merely detecting."

"Reading Taylor and Marty's cards in the reflection of the window constitutes as cheating, Messer," Lindsay corrected him.

Danny shrugged. "I'm a CSI. I'm supposed to follow the evidence, and if the evidence just so happens to be in the reflection of the window glass, then so be it."

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "You're just sore because I caned you at Trivial Pursuit."

"Montana, you just know some random crap," Danny retorted.

"It's called general knowledge, Messer. Suck it up, you sore loser."

"So, Flack," said Danny changing the subject. "What are we doing for you birthday?"

Taylor turned to face Flack. "When's your birthday?"

That question brought fits of laughter to Danny. "You don't know your boyfriend's birthday?"

The word boyfriend made both Flack and Taylor freeze. "Uh, it's the fifteenth, and I don't know yet," said Flack, quickly recovering.

. . .

"So, uh, I guess we need to talk," said Flack, scratching his head as he stared at Taylor's pyjama clad back.

Taylor was standing in front of the window, watching the snow as it fell to the ground. There was another blizzard setting in for the night. She sighed. "Do we have to?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Flack came to stand next to her. "Not if you don't want to. But it might be easier than having a repeat awkward moment."

"I know, it's just," she sighed again. "Once you've got what you want, that's when you've got something to lose, and what's scarier than that?"

"Not having it at all?" Flack frowned. "I guess I kind of assumed things. I think it was my fault, anyway."

Taylor turned and peered up at him. "What do you mean?"

Flack looked sheepish. "I happened to call you my girlfriend earlier today, when we went into the lab."

Taylor smiled shyly. "I kind of like you being referred to as my boyfriend."

"So, does my girlfriend have any suggestions as to what we can do for my birthday?"

"Let me cook a meal for us all. You're still at physio, and on medication, so it's not like we can go out," she suggested.

Flack , who hadn't yet actually experienced her cooking, smiled. "Sounds like a plan. What are you going to cook for me?"

Taylor shrugged, "I hadn't thought that far ahead. I'll let you know." She broke out into a huge smile, "Wow... I have a boyfriend."

Flack shook his head. "You are a geek, you know."

. . .

It was the fifteenth already. Flack had gone to the Danny's and the two of them were going to go to the gym. Flack was doing much better, and had been going to the gym daily for the past week to rebuild his stamina up.

Taylor, meanwhile, was taking the opportunity to go shopping. She still hadn't found Flack a present. Something which was driving her mad. What exactly did you get your boyfriend of one week? He already had a guitar (which he refused to let her listen to him practice). And clothes, CDs and scents all seemed a little impersonal.

"I know what you could get him," came Maddy's voice causing Taylor to jump as she was trawling through the aisles in a department store.

"Do I even want to hear this suggestion?" Taylor asked warily.

"Underwear."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Underwear is a pretty boring suggestion," she told her.

"Not for him – for you," Maddy said, looking at her with an expression which said _duh!_

"And that's going to benefit him how?" Taylor asked, half of her attention on the crowds around her.

"Sometimes, Tay, your naivety surprises me. It will benefit him when he takes it off!"

"Maddy, the guy is injured. Only two weeks ago he pulled his stitches loose."

"I can tell you some neat little tricks if you want!"

"Maddy!" she exclaimed. The three people in the isle jumped at her outburst, giving her a strange look. Taylor gave them apologetic smiles before quickly vacating the store.

"Try this store," said Maddy, reappearing by her side.

Taylor looked up. Ann Summers. "What is this place?" she asked looking at the lingerie in the window.

"Best store to come out of the UK in my opinion," Maddy told her with a smirk. When Taylor entered, she wasn't surprised, especially when Maddy led her to the back of the store where all the… kinkier items were shelved.

Taylor took one look at the bondage gear and turned to leave, but stopped when something caught her eye. She picked it up and grinned. She had found Flack's present. She bought that, with a new set of fancy underwear, and left heading straight to pick up some groceries.

. . .

"Marty, what are you doing here?" Danny asked in surprise as he opened the door. Both he and Flack were about to leave his apartment for the gym, when there had been a knock at the door.

Marty pushed past him. "You have to let me at your kitchen," he told him, heading straight there, several brown paper grocery bags under his arms.

Danny and Flack followed him. "What are you doing?" Danny asked him as he watched Marty lay the various items of food out.

"Saving our lives," Marty told him as his head disappeared into one of Danny's cupboards.

"By cooking?" asked Flack in confusion.

Marty stopped, placing a giant saucepan on the counter. "You bet," he told them, completely serious.

"Um, you're going to have to explain that one," Danny told him.

Marty sighed. "Taylor can't cook."

Danny burst out laughing. "Are you kidding me? That is why you're here?"

"No, you don't understand," Marty pressed. "The girl can burn water."

"She can't be that bad," Flack said, jumping to her defence.

"She decided to cook a meal one night. The pie was frozen on the outside, burnt on the inside, and the saucepan with the sweetcorn in it had to be thrown out because it was well and truly stuck to it. I still, to this day, cannot explain how that happened," Marty added, looking momentarily puzzled. "Seriously, just let me cook."

"Won't she be a little hurt when you turn up with the replacement meal?" Flack asked.

"She won't know," Marty explained as he began to chop the onions up. "She thinks I've gone to the gym with you guys, so once I've transferred the food to the gym bag in my car, I can sneak it into the apartment. All I will need then is five minutes to make a swap."

Flack frowned. "Is she really that bad."

"Do you really think I would be going to all this trouble if not?"He looked at Flack. "You've just got out of hospital. Are you that desperate to go back?"

. . .

Everything seemed to be going to plan. Taylor had the radio up full blast, singing along to The Feeling's _Fill My Little World_. The bolognaise was simmering nicely, the spaghetti had just gone in, and the garlic bread was on a baking tray, ready to go into the oven as everyone arrived.

"You all ready?"

Taylor whirled around in surprise to find Marty standing in the doorway, gym bag in his hands. "Pretty much."

"Anything I can do?" he offered.

"No, I'm all good," Taylor assured him.

"Well, why don't you get a shower and get ready before everyone arrives. If all that needs to be done is keeping an eye on the food, I can do that," Marty suggested.

Taylor smiled thankfully at him. "Thanks, Marty, but don't go picking at it."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he promised.

Taylor smiled and bounded out of the room for the shower. Marty lifted up the lid to the pan of the bolognaise, tentatively licked the spoon after he stuck it in. As he fought back the gag reflex he placed his bag on the counter and pulled out his replacement. "I _really_ wouldn't dream of it," he muttered, replacing everything and hiding her food in the cupboard under the sink.

. . .

Half an hour later and there was the first knock on the door. All ready, and clad in a smart black halter-neck dress, Taylor bounded to the door, giving Flack a kiss as she let him and Danny in.

Both guys were wearing smart trousers and a smart button down shirt – no ties – Flack in dark blue, and Danny in black.

"Can I offer you guys some non-alcoholic wine?" she asked them as she ushered them into the kitchen. Feeling the food was now safe, Marty had left it in Taylor's hands as he went to take his own shower.

"Non-alcoholic wine?" snorted Danny. "What is the point of that?"

"That Don is on medication and can't drink. So if he can't why should he watch the rest of us do so?" Taylor informed him. Danny started muttering comments under his breath about why should everyone else suffer just because Flack was dumb enough to get blown up, but was stopped by Taylor smacking him upside his head.

Not long later, Mac, Stella, Lindsay and Hawkes appeared and Taylor ushered the seven of them into the living room where she had set up the dining table, going all out with fancy plates and matching napkins to the table cloth.

"Wow," said Stella. "You pushed the boat out, didn't you?"

Taylor shrugged sheepishly. "I've not really had the chance to use any of this. And the plates are actually Marty's."

Every eye turned to Marty as each silently asked, _what on earth are you doing with such fancy plates_?

"Impresses the ladies," Marty shrugged.

"Do you want any help serving?" Lindsay asked as everyone sat down.

Taylor shook her head. "I'm all good." She dished up the food and sat down.

Mac picked up his glass. "Happy birthday, Don."

After everybody had toasted, they started their meal. Taylor watched them expectantly. She had spent all afternoon in the kitchen. "What's the matter?" she asked as no one seemed to want to swallow the food, let alone take another bite. As no one would tell her what was the matter, Taylor took her own mouthful. To say it was terrible was an understatement. Taylor flushed, "I'm sorry."

Stella was up on her feet collecting the plates. "Don't worry. Let's see what we can rustle up." Taylor bit her lip as she collected some plates and followed Stella into the kitchen.

"I thought you were going to replace it if it was this bad," Danny shot at Marty.

"I did!" Marty cried, "I don't understand it. She can't have been left alone with the food for longer than five minutes. I told you she couldn't cook."

In the kitchen, Taylor fought the tears. Stella watched her as they listened to the conversation carrying in to them. Stella placed the dishes on the counter. "I'll be right back," told her, squeezing her shoulder.

As Taylor scraped the food into the trash, she could hear Stella whispering a telling off to Marty and Danny. She dumped the plates in the kitchen sink and opened the cupboard underneath to get the washing up liquid, spotting the bolognaise she had made. She pulled it out and stared at it, before she took a mouthful. It was actually worse than the one Marty had replaced it with.

Taylor couldn't understand it. She knew she wasn't the world's best cook, but she didn't think she was that bad.

"Are you alright?" Flack asked her. Taylor didn't turn around. She just focused on the running water. She heard him take a few steps towards her then stop, "Taylor," he started hesitantly. "Is something burning?"

Taylor sniffed. Something was, and as she turned to the oven, she knew exactly what it was. The garlic bread. Grabbing an oven mitt, she pulled them out, the smoke billowing into the kitchen. They were cremated. As she placed the tray down, the fire alarms began blaring.

Looking through the smoke to the remains of the meals, Taylor burst into tears and pelted into her bedroom, and into her bathroom, where she slammed the door behind her, and sank onto the toilet lid.

Less than a minute later, there was a knock at the door and Flack stuck his head around it. Taylor turned her back to him, facing the bath. "Go away," she said miserably.

He didn't. Instead, he walked over to her and crouched down in front of her, "It wasn't that bad."

"It was, Don," she wailed. "It was dreadful."

"Yeah, you're right. It was," Flack agreed.

Taylor stopped crying and turned to face him in disbelief. "It's not funny," she scowled at his smile.

"It kind of is," he told her.

"Flack, I spent ages in that kitchen trying to cook you something special for your birthday. And I couldn't even do that right. I didn't even know it was your birthday – I'm a lousy girlfriend."

Flack smiled at her. "A lousy cook, yes, but you're not a lousy girlfriend." He wrapped his arms around her. "Come on," he told her as the alarmed stopped. "Let's forget about this and go out to a restaurant."

. . .

Several hours later and Flack and Taylor had returned home – Taylor feeling much better. Marty had gone to work and so they had the apartment to themselves. Admittedly, they could have gone to Flack's, but the restaurant they had ended up in was only a few blocks from hers. As Flack settled down in bed, Taylor disappeared into the bathroom.

Flack looked up as she walked out, and his jaw dropped. The item Taylor had bought earlier was, as the packaging described it, a naughty nurse outfit. It certainly showed off a lot of cleavage, and was so short that she would have definitely classed it as a top rather than a dress. It showed off the black lacy number she had bought at the same time, and there was no chance of it covering the stockings and garter belt. Calmly, Taylor walked over to the bed and pulled back the covers. "Well, how is my patient this evening?"

"I thought that I had to wait until I was back on desk duty?" Flack asked, staring at her appreciatively.

"Well, that is why I am here," Taylor told him. "I think it's about time you had a complete medical to see if everything's alright." She glanced down at his boxers. "Hmmm, it would appear that everything is in working order." Keeping her face all business-like, she climbed on the bed and straddled him, before reaching into her pocket.

Flack's eyes widened. "Are you sure?" he asked her as he looked at the small foil packet.

Taylor smiled coyly at him. "I do believe, Mr Patient, that the nurse is the one in charge here."

. . .

Lindsay waved goodbye to Taylor and Flack from her seat in the taxi, and waited for it to drop Sheldon off before it finally took her home herself. She paid the driver and got out, finding Danny jumping up and down on the spot, trying to keep warm. "Nice evening," she said briskly. Danny stared at her, a somewhat evil glint in his eyes. "Danny?"

His response was to shove a handful of snow down her collar. Lindsay screamed and tried to dodge around him so she could grab her own handful of revenge. She was prevented from doing so by Danny, who wrapped his arms around her. "Not a chance, Montan-argh!" The weight of Danny made the two of them slip on the ice, backwards into the pile of snow which had been swept clear of the doorway.

Before Danny could work out which way was up, Lindsay had managed to stuff a handful of snow up his top, which was now on display as his coat had fallen open. Lindsay was on her feet and running for the stairs before Danny could get to his feet. He caught her up, however, as she struggled to open her front door – she was laughing so hard that she couldn't hold the key straight.

He went to grab her, but before he could, another snowball hit him in the face.

Lindsay finally managed to open the door and burst into her apartment. She made it three feet in before the door slammed shut, Danny leaning against it, his arms folded across his chest. "For a girl, you don't play fair."

Lindsay turned to face him. "Play fair? This coming from you?"

"Do as monkey says, not as monkey does."

Lindsay's gape turned into hysterical laughter. "Monkey?" she gasped. "You just called yourself a mon-"

She was prevented from finishing the sentence by a flurry of snow in her mouth. "Payback's a bitch," Danny smirked.

"Daniel Messer," Lindsay scolded. "You got me all wet!"

Danny grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh really?"

Lindsay looked at him, spat out her tongue, and began walking off.

Danny watched her butt as it moved away from him, and then as she slowly pulled her coat off and draped it over the back of her sofa, followed by her sweater. Danny let out a groan, leapt over to her and spun her around, pushing her against the shelves, sending books flying everywhere, "Stop taking your time, Montana."

Lindsay looked at him innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Danny pressed his lips against hers, before, in one quick movement, removed her dress from her. "That's how it's done," he told her, his hot breath in her ear sending shivers down her spine.

"Good effort, Messer, but you missed some key items."

Danny didn't need telling twice.

. . .

Several hours later, and both Danny and Lindsay were extremely content. Danny was lying on his back, his arms under his head staring at Lindsay, who was lying next to him, her head propped up as she used her free hand to play with Danny's hair.

"Why do we have to keep with all the secrecy?" she asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Danny sighed. "Why does it have to be anybody's business?"

"When we can't get a cab home together," she pouted. "I might want to show you off to the world. Or is that the problem? Are you embarrassed about me?"

Danny furiously shook his head. "Don't be stupid." He sighed again. "I'm just not ready – I don't want to jinx what we have."

"This really has nothing to do with me?"

"No!" Danny told her firmly. "Well," he grinned. "Maybe I wouldn't mind keeping you to myself for a little while longer." He reached up and pulled her to him. "Call me selfish," he whispered. "But I want to keep you my dirty little secret."

Lindsay rolled her eyes, "Quoting pop songs? Such the romantic, aren't we?"

"Shuddup," Danny grinned. "You love it really."

. . .

"This is me," smiled Stella. "Thanks for walking me back, Mac."

"It's never a problem," Mac smiled.

"You want to come up for a drink? A coffee to warm up, before you head back?"

"What about Frankie?" Mac asked carefully.

Stella shook her head. "Frankie has no say over who invite for a drink."

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh, well, Frankie doesn't come to mine – he won't be here."

Mac glanced down at his watch. "I shouldn't. I have to be at work in the-"

"So do I," laughed Stella. "Come on, Mac. It's just one cup. Besides, when was the last time we sat down and had a chat?" Mac stared intently at her, and finally nodded. Stella gave him a friendly punch on the arm. "See, that didn't hurt, did it?" The two were about to enter when Stella's phone rang. "Hello…. Hi, Frankie…. What? Now…? No, I can't…. sorry, maybe tomorrow…? Yeah, you too." She put her phone away and smiled at Mac. "You coming up, or are you going to stay out here all night?"

Mac sighed and looked away. "Actually, I think I _will_ go home." He turned and walked away before Stella could respond.

Stella exhaled deeply and pulled her cell back out, "Frankie? Change of plans. I'll be there in twenty."


	82. Bone Brakes

_04/08/2006_

**Chapter 81: Bone Brakes**

"So how does it feel to be back at work?"

It was the nineteenth and Flack had been cleared for work, under specific instructions that should he try anything more strenuous than lifting a pen or filing paperwork, than he would be back home faster than it would take for Mac to clean and dismantle an M16 assault rifle. Flack grinned. "Fantastic."

Taylor sat back and looked around. The room which Flack shared with eight other homicide detectives was surprisingly quiet. "Where is everyone?"

"Out on cases," Flack shrugged, trying not to sound as bothered about it as he was feeling.

"You'll be out there sooner than you think," Taylor told him, trying to be as reassuring as possible.

The room grew cold – Taylor didn't jump… not until Flack dropped his pen with a yelp and a string of expletives. He pointed behind her. Taylor turned and found Maddy with another ghost.

"You are aware Flack can see you both of you? she asked her dead best friend.

"Both?" squeaked Flack as Maddy shook her head.

"He can only see me," said Maddy. She looked thoughtful. "Well, he'll be able to see Aiden as well."

Taylor frowned, ignoring Flack, whose doing a pretty good impression of a fish. "And how does that fit into the grand scheme of things?"

"Well, really, it doesn't."

"Translation?" Taylor demanded.

"Why can't I hear what she's saying?" Flack asked.

Taylor looked expectantly at Maddy, who shrugged at her. "Well, he's technically supposed to be dead. But you brought him back before he had chance to be… um… processed… and now he can see me and Aid, but can't hear us, or see any other ghosts."

"Kinda figured that one out, Mads, but that doesn't explain why."

Maddy shrugged, "I don't know."

Taylor wasn't surprised.

"Help me."

Taylor turned her attention to the ghost next to Maddy. He was a middle aged man in blue overalls. Taylor couldn't tell what colour hair or eyes he had though – it looked like his head had been beaten to a bloody pulp. In his hand was something Taylor suspected very few people actually knew what the item was. It looked somewhat like a rib, only it was flat. Less than a centimetre thick, about three wide, and the length, although curved, was about fifteen centimetres long. Even in his hand, Taylor could see that the grey item was leaving dusty marks over them. A brake lining.

Taylor watched as the two ghosts disappeared, almost in a trance – the head of the male ghost was not a pretty sight – only to be brought out of it by Flack. "What was that about?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Um… you're now going to be able to see Maddy and Aiden. Apparently," Taylor offered.

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

Taylor couldn't blame him on his suspicion. "Luck. Or lack thereof, perhaps? They were with you when you were dead. And now you're not, so now you can see them. It doesn't sound like that was part of the master plan, though. Because you obviously can't see the dead bodies."

Flack considered it for a moment, cocking his head, then looked at Taylor. "Do they just appear like that?"

Taylor nodded. "Occasionally at inappropriate times."

Flack flushed. "Like when we-"

"If those two try it, I will kill them," Taylor told him. "Again," she added. She sighed. "But having a normal life? Not going to happen anymore."

Flack looked upset. "Really?"

"You know," muttered Taylor, looking down into her lap. "If you want to back out, I won't blame you."

"Don't be stupid," he told her firmly. "Most people have ghosts in their past. Yours just happen to be in the present," he frowned. "And actual ghosts." Taylor managed a smile. "Now," said Flack, sitting up. "Tell me about this ghost."

"Well, he was dressed I-" she stopped suddenly and rolled her eyes. "Nice try, detective, but it's not going to work. You're on desk duty until you're cleared by the doctor."

"But-"

Taylor held her hands up. "I'm just your girlfriend. Go take it up with your boss."

"I think I'd have more chance with you," he muttered, sulking into his desk.

"I'm going to head next door and see if they have anything, yet," she told him, pecking him on the cheek.

"Be careful," Flack frowned.

"You too."

Flack scoffed. "Careful? Of what? Death by paper cuts?"

"Keep scowling at it like that, and the paper might fight back," Taylor joked.

Flack managed a smile. "Seriously, be careful – you're not a cop."

Taylor smiled back and left.

. . .

"Hey Danny, where you off to?" Taylor asked as she practically walked into him as she left the elevator.

"Case in Queens."

"A beating? Taylor asked hopefully.

"Should I be worried that you're hoping the answer is yes?" he asked her warily.

Taylor shrugged. "Ghost," she explained simply.

"Oh. No, well, there is no actual body," he told her.

"It's not a murder?" Taylor blinked in surprise.

Danny frowned. "We don't actually know. It's at Brake Pads and Linings Manufacturers PLC and they haven-"

Taylor nodded. "You have a murder. He was beaten to death."

"I think you're ghost is giving you duff information, because there is no body. They ran an analysis on one of their linings, or something, and the computer told them there was bone in their mix."

Taylor shook her head, as she followed him back into the elevator. "He showed me a brake lining."

Danny leant against the wall. "It could be a lining from a thousand different garages or showrooms across the city."

"It could, but it's not," Taylor responded firmly.

"And what makes you so sure?"

"The lining wasn't finished."

Danny looked at her in disbelief. "And you know what a brake lining looks like?"

Taylor nodded. "My brother is obsessed with cars. He spent his high school years restoring a GTO, and he'd explain what he was doing. Anyway, the lining the ghost showed me was only of the friction material. A complete lining has the friction material glued to a metal shoe so it can be attached to the car."

Danny nodded. "You might be quite useful, then. But there is no body."

Taylor sighed. "I have a theory on that."

"Want to share?" Danny pressed.

"Not yet."

. . .

"Well, if it isn't Danny Messer," greeted Detective Maka, a large smile on her face.

"Hi Kaile."

"Hello," greeted Taylor, stamping her feet against the cold. They had met Kaile at the security box at the site entrance, where they were waiting for someone to meet them, and it was still bitterly cold.

Kaile looked at Taylor, as though noticing her for the first time. "Is it customary for lab rats to join you in the field, these days?" she asked Danny.

Danny frowned and looked at Taylor. "Taylor? A lab rat? Nah, she's a journalist."

"And what is a journalist doing here?"

"Danny's just joking," said Taylor, hurriedly. "Mac's let me out of the lab for once."

Kaile rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She turned to Danny. "I'm going to see what's taking so long," she told him before heading to the security guards.

"Why did you tell her that?" Danny asked.

"Because I figured it would be less trouble than her assuming the worst with me being a journalist. That being said," Taylor added slyly. "You could just bat those pretty eyelashes at her and she'd probably let me have her notebook and take photographs."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Danny laughed, clearly showing he did.

Kaile came back at that point, a tall African American man in a blue overcoat in tow. "This is John Hardy," said Katy.

"Detectives," said John. You'll need these." He handed them all safety glasses and white overcoats. "It's company policy that everyone on site inside the buildings wears the protective gear when on the factory floor."

In order for them to get the overcoats on, they had to remove their own coats and handed them over. Shivering in the cold, John led the three of them behind the security office and into the adjoining building.

"These are the offices," John told them, "I think it would be best to explain what we found in here, where it is quiet." He showed them into a small office and sat down. "Frankly, I don't know what has happened." He sighed and rubbed his eyes, "On site, we produce brake pads and linings for Ford, Chevy, Chrysler, Toyota, VW, Audi, Land Rover – just to name a few. We have brake pads in block B, and linings in block L. We have two lots of employees on the factory floor. Our own – BPLM, and ones offered to us by a recruitment service, RRS. RRS are only here for inspection and wear green, BPLM production operatives wear blue, BPLM railways wear red, and the tradesmen – the men who repair the machines, they wear turquoise. And section managers wear black, and, any ranking manager, based in an office, wears a blue overcoat. The lab techs wear white."

"Mr Hardy, I appreciate you taking the time to tell us about the factory, but is what each person wears relevant?" Kaile interrupted.

John sighed. "Actually, yes. In Block L, where we produce linings… we have the linings inspected before we ship them off, by RRS. We have a high standard we work to, and as a brake pad or lining is essentially one of the most important parts of a car, especially in terms of safety, we take these standards very seriously. We check for chips, holes, indents, radius cracks, splits. Anything. Including contamination."

John got up from behind his desk and walked over to a large plastic blue box, which he carried over to his desk and placed on top of it. "Up until now, we had problems with metal contamination, but we got to the bottom of that. It turns out the company who supplies the newspapers was sending us shredded magazines instead – and the bits of CDs and staples, and everything in between were contaminating the batch mix."

"You put newspaper into brake linings?" Danny asked incredulously.

"Not much, but it is part of the ingredients," John confirmed. "However, that was slightly off topic," he sighed again. "Yesterday, one of the RRS girls on inspection was sat at the end of cell three. She was inspecting the linings we had made for Toyota and… it's policy that an order, which is usually around 1500 linings, can have no more than ten percent rejects until a quality alert has to be issued. Because of the metal contamination problem, this number has been temporarily by-passed. However, after pulling out a hundred in a row, she stopped the operative on the cell and went to get the section manager."

John opened the lid to the box and pulled out a lining. From the other side of the room, to Taylor, it looked fine. She walked over and picked it up. On closer inspection, she could see that it actually wasn't fine. It was full of sharp, white shards. "What's the white?" she asked suspiciously, certain she knew the answer.

"Our lab confirmed this morning it was bone." Taylor dropped the lining like it was on fire. "Exactly," muttered John as he sank back into his chair.

"Mr Hardy," said Danny. "There's a very good possibility that the bone isn't human. It could be a bird – a pigeon."

John looked at him. "I wish you were right, but some of the bone samples contained viable bone marrow – trace amounts, but enough to confirm it human."

"And how many samples are we talking about?"

"We took a random selection from every lining made from the same mix batch – about eight orders. All eight orders are contaminated."

There was a frenzied knock at the door and a guy in black overalls burst in. "One of the guys has found something in the mix bucket. You need to come and see this!"


	83. Finding An ID

_10/08/2006_

**Chapter 82: Finding An ID**

The man who had interrupted them was Ian Collier, a Charge Hand from Block L. With him and John, Danny, Kaile and Taylor entered Block L. The first thing that hit Taylor was the smell, followed at a very close second by the noise. Over the drones of the machine, Taylor could barely hear herself think, let alone hear what Ian was trying to tell John. Thankfully, they were led to an area of the factory where all the machines had been shut down, making it easier to be heard.

John stopped and turned to them. "We stopped the machines as soon as we found out what was in the mix." He led them a little further to a machine which towered above them with pipes and metal melding into one very intimidating machine – not the way Taylor would choose to go.

"In there," Ian said, pointing at a drum.

Danny pulled on his gloves and opened the drum for them to peer in. The bottom inch was full of black, gloopy looking… stuff, full of blue fibres, and in the middle, peering up, was a very badly damaged skull – very little of the skin and flesh left on it.

"We drained the machine," John explained. "And this was what was in the bottom of it."

"Are all of your staff accounted for?" Kaile asked.

John nodded.

"Is it possible for someone to get into here and-"

"No," John cut Danny off. The only access is through the front gates, which have twenty four hour security."

"Perhaps it's an old body," Taylor suggested. "A dump job."

"We'll need to get an ME to take a closer look at the skull," Danny said. "See if we can confirm the age."

"Who has access to this area?" Maka asked.

"Potentially, anyone in a BPLM or RRS uniform, but the people who mainly go in here are the boys on the mix job. There are nine of them in total, spilt up into three shifts. Three are in the office now, the five are on their way in."

"What about the other one?"

"Mike's on holiday," John shrugged.

Danny sighed. "This area has just become a crime scene. I'm going to have to ask you to leave whilst I process it."

. . .

The factory was a dust machine. Fine black dust everywhere, which had no problem going anywhere either. And despite the protective jackets they were wearing, Danny and Taylor were soon black. The dust was not only making it exceedingly difficult for Danny to print anything, but it was also making it difficult to not sneeze. In the end, Taylor went outside to the car, to wait for Danny. At least in the car it was warm: the factory was freezing.

Finally, Danny appeared, handfuls of evidence in his arms, including the one, very grubby skull. "Has your ghost given us anything else to go on?" Danny asked Taylor, as he turned the heating up and rubbed his hands.

Taylor shook her head. "No, but he definitely worked in the factor. He was wearing blue overalls, like the BPLM workers."

Danny nodded, "I suspected that the blue fibres in the mix were from his clothing."

"But if all the workers are accounted for, then how are we going to ID the vic?"

"Once we've taken the skull to," Danny looked at his watch. "Sid, we'll put what we have in the FASTSCAN and see if anyone can then ID him."

Taylor nodded. "Okay."

Danny gave her a sideways glance. "You alright?"

"I stink of brake pads," Taylor moaned.

Danny laughed. "Yeah, you do."

Taylor's eyes narrowed. "You don't smell like a bed of roses yourself, Messer."

"I didn't have the assumption that crime was clean."

"Neither did I," Taylor objected.

. . .

Sid stared at the remains of the skull. "Is this it?"

Danny nodded. "That and about sixty gallons of friction material, and about eight thousand brake linings."

Sid looked at Danny, and then snapped his glasses on. "I can't tell you much, other than your vic is in his late forties to early fifties, is a white Caucasian, and wasn't dead before he went in."

Taylor blanched. "You can tell that from half a skull?"

Sid nodded. "It's all about the blood in what's left of the fle-"

"Don't," Taylor cut him off as she felt her stomach churn. "Just a simple yes would have done it."

"Is there enough for a dental impression?" Danny asked, looking at what was left of the jaw.

Sid shook his head. "Not enough for an ID – perhaps for a confirmation, though."

Danny sighed. "I'll take this up to AV, then." Taylor followed him up and to the lab, where they found Adam lying on the floor, his head under a computer. "Hey, Adam, whatcha doing?" Danny called under the table.

Adam jumped, smacking his head, and cursed loudly. "Jeeze Messer, a little warning next time," he glared at him, rubbing his head as he emerged to get to his feet. "I'm trying to replace the wires for the audio system in the Mac."

Danny pulled a face. "Sounds like fun. Well, can you set me up with the FASTSCAN, please?"

Adam shook his head. "No can do."

"Why not?"

"We lent it to the Albany Crime lab for one of their cases. It's due back tomorrow evening."

Danny groaned. "Great, now I'll never get an ID."

"You could try it by hand," Adam suggested, getting back on his knees. "You know, like what you did before computers," he added as he stuck his head under the desk.

"I hope you hit your head again," Danny muttered as he stalked out of the lab. "I'm going to process the other evidence," Danny told Taylor. "You want in?"

"Really?" Taylor asked in surprise.

Danny shrugged. "Well, it's going over the paperwork, nothing interesting, but it's nothing which Mac would object to." He pointed to a stack of multi-coloured papers on the end of the table of the layout room they were in. Taylor nodded – it wasn't like she had anything better to do.

Danny had been gone twenty minutes when she had another visitor. "Aiden?" asked Taylor, looking around the room, expecting something to try to jump out and get her.

"Don't worry," Aiden reassured her. "I'm here purely out of nostalgia."

"Nostalgia?"

"You found that," she said, pointing to the skull. "I miss the days when I'd recreate the face. Now they have some hi-tech laser to do it."

Taylor put down the orange sheets she had been pouring over. "Well, actually, that hi-tech laser is in Albany. Danny's going to have to do it by hand."

Aiden's trademark, ear-to-ear grin appeared on her face. "I could kiss him," she cried in excitement.

"What are you doing?" Taylor asked, watching the ghost move around the room, collecting various items and setting them up around the skull. Taylor peered anxiously to the door, hoping that no one would enter whilst Aiden was making the items fly around. That would be an interesting thing to try to explain.

"My job," Aiden exclaimed gleefully. "Well, my old job."

"Aiden!" Taylor exclaimed anxiously, glancing at the door.

Aiden shrugged at her. "If anyone asks, you can take the credit. But I'm good, so no one is going to care, trust me!"

Taylor watched in amazement as Aiden began attaching little white nodes to various parts of what was left of the skull. "How can you do that?"

"I was always good at art at school," said Aiden.

"No, I mean, how come you can move things around," Taylor asked. "Maddy can't. It just goes through her."

Aiden stopped moulding the clay, and looked at her. "Have you really not figured it out yet?" Taylor shook her head. Aiden sighed, but didn't stop what she was doing. "Supernatural 101. There are two kinds of ghosts. Your average, my-job-here-isn't-complete Casper, and your I'm-pissed-off-with-the-world-even-though-I'm-dead poltergeist."

Taylor studied the woman in front of her. "Are you telling me you're a poltergeist?"

"Yup, except, I'm not pissed off with the world. Just the evil in it. Hence why I can move things," she explained.

Suddenly, it all made sense to Taylor, except for one thing, "Maddy pushed Sheldon once."

Aiden shrugged. "I can't explain that one. But by all rights, she shouldn't have been able to." There was a shuffling at the door, and Aiden vanished, leaving Taylor with an almost complete facial reconstruction.

"Yeah, about seven… Montana… Yes, Lindsay." Danny stopped listening and stared in disbelief at the semi-head. "I'll call you back." Without waiting for an answer, he hung up. "Drew? Did you do this?"

"Um… yeah?" Taylor offered with an uncomfortable shrug.

Danny walked over to the head to take a closer look, not noticing the uncertainty in Taylor's voice. "This is incredible."

Time for a change of conversation. "So, what have you and your girlfriend got planned for seven this evening?"

"Dinner." Danny stopped and slowly straightened up before turning to face Taylor, who had a huge grin on her face. "Oh, girlfriend? I thought you said Lin… aw, crap."

Taylor burst out laughing. "Busted!"

Danny glared at her. "What made you use the word girlfriend?" he asked accusingly. "Has Montana said something to you?"

"No, it was…" Taylor trailed off.

"It was…?" Danny pressed.

Taylor sighed, "Maddy."

"Maddy? What? Is she stalking me, or something?"

Taylor shook her head then frowned. "I think the term is haunting, and you're lucky. It's Sheldon she has a crush on. However, I do believe she is responsible for a certain text message."

Danny's mouth dropped open. "That was Maddy!"

_And Aiden_, Taylor thought. She just nodded.

"Don't tell anyone," he pleaded.

"I won't," said Taylor. "But why don't you want anyone to know?"

"Because she's something good in my life, and I don't want that to get screwed up."

Taylor stared in puzzlement at him. "But I thought Louie was doing better too?"

Danny sighed and sat down in the seat previously occupied by Aiden. "He is. I mean, he's still in hospital, but the doctors aren't worried, and he is out of his coma." He took his glasses off and rubbed his hands over his face, "Montana is a different happy. She makes me feel different."

"The city boy falling for the country girl," Taylor mused playfully. "Who'd have thought it?"

"Not me," Danny muttered, although a grin was plastered on his face. He turned back to the reconstructed face. "You really do have talent you know?" Taylor said nothing, and just stared at the solitary blue eye which had been inserted, by Aiden, into the empty socket. "I'm going to take some copies of this back to the factory. You want to come?"

Taylor shook her head. "I have a detective I need to check up on."

. . .

Taylor entered the homicide detectives' office carrying a large mug of coffee a while later. "And how is my favourite detective doing?" she asked brightly.

Flack looked up from his paperwork with a huge grin spreading across his face. "Favourite detective? I better had be your favourite detective, or I may have to take countermeasures on that one."

Taylor raised an eyebrow. "And what would they be?"

"I can't tell you - half of the detectives in here aren't getting any," he smirked at her.

Taylor looked around the office. The only other person in there was detective Maka. Taylor burst into hysterical laughter. She couldn't help it. "You are terrible," she tried to scold, but failed miserably.

Flack leant over. "No, terrible is what I want to do you right now, in front of Maka."

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "Donald!" she cried, actually achieving her aim of scolding the detective.

Flack shrugged, "I'm pushing paperclips. I have a lot of free time on my mind. At least I'm thinking of you."

"Perhaps I should leave before I gag," Taylor said pulling a face. Flack raised his eyebrows, wiggling them suggestively. "Paperclips, Don. Paperclips!"

She flung one at him, and then grabbed her phone which had begun vibrating in her pocket. It was a text from Danny. **2 noisy 2 call. Think we hav an ID. Can u come confirm?**

"And now I'm going to go meet Danny and," she glanced over at Maka and lowered her voice. "Confirm the ID of our vic."


	84. I Would Have Gotten Away With It Too

_12/08/2006_

**Chapter 83: I Would Have Gotten Away With It Too**

Taylor looked at the photograph in front of her and nodded. Everyone on production was required to complete a training manifest to confirm their training on the machines, and also to carry a photo ID around with them with a list of machines they were trained on. As a result, every production employee had their face saved onto a computer database.

"Eric Aiken," Danny muttered. "I think you were right about him getting a beating, too."

"How come?" Taylor asked, turning her attention from the screen to her friend.

"Sid. He said that the guy got some blunt force trauma to the face. But not by your usual items," Danny pulled out some photographs.

"I really don't want to look, if I can help it, Danny," Taylor muttered, stepping back.

Danny stuffed them away. "Oh, alright."

"But I guess I don't have any choice in the matter," Taylor muttered as Maddy and Eric appeared. This time, Eric was holding a metal shoe – the bit the friction material was attached to. "Help me." Maddy took a sly look at Danny, smirked and left.

"What's the matter?" Danny asked, noticing Taylor shudder.

"I think it's time we looked at the lining shoes," Taylor mumbled.

Danny nodded. "I suspected as much. There seems to be nothing around here which makes a match as a murder weapon. That and the fact there is no sign of a struggle."

"You think the body in the mix was a way of disposing of the body?" Danny nodded again. "So, how come nobody noticed Eric was not here?"

Danny shrugged. "Just another part of the mystery." He looked thoughtful, "What was your theory?"

Taylor blinked. "Huh?"

"As to why the ghost looked beaten yet his body was in several pieces," he asked as they headed further into Block L.

"Wrong."

"Come again?" Danny asked.

Taylor shrugged. "My theory was wrong. I thought that it was because the COD was the beating, and the destruction of his body happened after he was dead."

Danny looked at her, slightly impressed. "I think we're rubbing off on you – that sounded like a viable theory," he frowned. "Well, kind of."

Taylor smiled at him. "Don't worry, I still have no desire to do your job. My stomach won't allow it."

"When are you back at the paper?" Danny asked, changing the subject slightly.

Taylor gave him a bright smile. "Two weeks. I'm going to see Alex before then, check in about the direction of my next few columns, but we're hoping to have our return issue out on the 1st of February." Danny stopped and shone his torch on something on the ground. "Is that blood?" Taylor asked.

"In a factory like this, it could be anything. There's only one way to find out," he told her, crouching down and pulling a q-tip and some phenolphthalein. Seconds later, he confirmed blood. "It's got directionality as well," he told Taylor, pointing his torch light in the direction the blood had come from.

The torch light came to rest on something which was partially hidden behind long plastic drapes. Danny pulled them back. On the ground was a lot of blood and several hundred metal lining shoes.

"Am I right in assuming that the blunt force trauma was caused by the shoes crashing down on his head?" Taylor asked as both she and Danny looked up to where the shoes had clearly fallen from.

"Looks like it," Danny agreed. "Of course, we'll have to confirm it at the lab."

Taylor frowned, gazing at the pile of shoes thoughtfully. "Well, surely, it would have been better for the killer to leave the body there. Wouldn't it look more like an accident that way?"

Danny shrugged. "Maybe he thought the body wouldn't be found if it went into the linings." He pulled out his camera and began taking photos as Taylor stood back and watched, jumping up and down on the spot to try to keep warm. After several minutes, Danny began rummaging in his case. Not finding what he was looking for, he swore.

"What've you lost?" Taylor asked him.

"I'm out of film," he muttered, getting to his feet. "There's some in the car. I'll be right back."

"I'll go," offered Taylor. "It'll warm me up."

Danny nodded. "Thanks. I'll start processing the scene."

Taylor stuck her hands in her pockets and headed back the way she came. As she turned a corner, she realised she had gone the wrong way – the factory floor was like a maze – and started to backtrack. And then she heard the engine. She barely had time to register that there was something heading towards her as she screamed and felt herself being turned so that she was facing the truck side on.

There was a loud crash which echoed around the plant and Taylor opened her eyes. Either side of her, pinning her jacket to the machine behind, were the forks of a forklift truck. Turning to her side had saved her life.

"Taylor!" Danny came running around the side of one of the machines, seconds later followed by various other factory workers.

One of them got in the forklift truck and backed it away, at which point, Taylor sank to the floor, shaking violently. A jacket was draped over her and she was half led, half carried into the brew cabin and a cup of coffee from the machine placed in front of her.

Danny thanked the men, and then cleared them out of the room, sitting down opposite her. "What happened?" he asked her softly.

Taylor stared at her hands – they were still shaking. "I don't know," she told him, her voice breaking. "I… it happened so fast that, I, uh… I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," Danny told her firmly. He sighed. "I'm taking you back to the lab."

Taylor nodded numbly. She'd had enough of factories.

. . .

"Taylor? Are you alright?" Flack asked as he burst into the layout room Taylor was in.

She looked up from the cup of coffee that she had been staring through and when she saw the concern on his face, threw herself into his arms. "I am now," she told him as his arms tightened around her.

Finally, Flack pulled away, "I told you to be careful," he told her, somewhat angrily.

Taylor's eyes narrowed, "I'm sorry," she responded, the sarcasm lacing her voice. "Next time I won't forget to take the target off me."

"Do you see me laughing, Taylor?"

"Do you see _me_ laughing, Flack?" Taylor shot back at him.

Flack glared at her. "You can't walk around crime scenes like you're a cop. You're not. And I'm going to kill Dann-"

"Flack," Taylor growled. "You are going to leave Danny alone. It was not his fault."

"No, you're right. It's your fault for acting like a CSI."

"I was not acting like a CSI!" Taylor yelled, raking her hands through her hair. "I was going to get some film from the car. I just happened to take a wrong turn. Jeeze, Flack, it's not like I go looking for trouble."

"No, but trouble seems to find you – which is why you should be more careful!"

"Fine! Next time I'll be more careful!" The shaking had returned, but this time it was from the anger.

"NEXT TIME?" Flack roared, throwing his arms in the air. "There won't be a next time! You are not going to any more crime scenes!"

Taylor's jaw dropped open. "You are so not telling me what I should and should not be doing?" she asked in disbelief.

"Maybe it's about time someone did!" Flack snapped at her.

"That is IT!" she shouted at him. "This conversation is over." She barged past him, accidentally-on-purpose knocking him with her shoulder and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Not knowing where else to go, she headed straight for the office which Danny and Lindsay shared, which was mercifully empty, and sank down into Danny's chair so that she could keep an eye on the door.

After a while, she relaxed a little when she realised that no one was coming – she and Don hadn't exactly been quiet – and sat glaring at the door, cursing in four different languages. With an irritated huff, she turned her attention the stack of brightly coloured paperwork from BPLM.

Thanks to her anger, an hour later, she had gone through the paperwork, and made a startling discovery. She reached for the phone and called Danny.

. . .

"Flack's pissed," Danny offered by way of greeting as he slumped into Lindsay's chair. Taylor glared at him and threw a few choice words in his direction. Danny's eyes widened. "You really have an x-rated vocabulary on you, Drew, you know?"

Taylor managed a small smile before sighing and leaning back in her chair, "Sorry. I just… god, I want to strangle him right now."

"At least you know he cares," Danny shrugged. Taylor just glared at him. "Sooooooo," said Danny, dragging out the word. "What's this big break you think you've found?"

Taylor switched her attention to the papers in front of her. There were twenty four sheets of paper – eight sets of three. "Each employee has an identification number which the write down on the op cards," she indicated to the papers. "And according to this, Eric has been working for the past week."

Danny pulled a face. "That's not possible. He's dead."

"Exactly," Taylor handed one of the sheets over. "Now, I'm no expert, so you'll have to confirm this with someone else, but I think I've found a suspect. Employee 2249 has the same hand writing as whoever wrote Eric's number."

Danny looked at the two samples. "It looks like you're right. I'll get this to QD. Is there a list of employees and their ID numbers?" Taylor nodded and handed a hot pink sheet over. "Rolland Miccer," he read. "I'll confirm the writing and then get Maka to bring him in."

. . .

"He deserved it."

Within minutes of entering the interview room, Rolland had confessed, without seeming in the slightest bit repentant. "Why?" asked Danny.

Rolland shrugged. "He was a slob. Never tidied up after himself, never replaced the water in the cooler when he finished it, made everybody else pick up when he was slacking off."

Danny frowned. "And that's a good enough reason to kill someone?"

Rolland shook his head. "No, I didn't say why I killed him, only why he deserved it."

"So why did you kill him?" Danny asked, slightly impatiently.

"I wanted to see if I could get away with it," Rolland lent forward. "So what did I do wrong?"

Danny's jaw dropped open. "Are you kidding me? The fact that you killed someone!"

"Now, I know that can't be the case. I must have left something behind. But there were no prints, no fibres-"

"Your handwriting," Danny told him incredulously. "That woman you tried to kill in the factory: she discovered it."

Rolland slumped back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face, "I knew I should have made sure she was dead."

Behind the glass, Taylor watched in disbelief as she fought the urge to uproot herself from the other side of the mirror and march in there to give Rolland a slap. Behind her, the door opened, but she didn't turn as she continued to glare at Rolland.

"You can't keep away, can you?"

Taylor whirled around and refocused the glare on Flack. "No, Flack, this conversation is over."

"No, it's not over, Taylor," Flack cried, thankful the room was soundproof. "Because you just keep going out there and doing the same thing."

"We can't keep having this argument, Flack."

"Well you can't keep putting yourself in danger," the blue eyed detective retorted.

"I'm on the other side of a mirror where I can't be seen or heard," she yelled back at him. "How am I in danger?"

"It's the principle of it," Flack cried in exasperation.

"You're having a go at me for something I haven't done," she pointed out.

"_Yet_!" Flack pressed. "But it's going to be the same thing, time and time again. You're not a cop!"

"Fine," Taylor roared, as she stormed past him, heading for the door.

Flack grabbed at her arm, spinning her back around to face him. "Where are you going?"

"To ask Mac to get me a slot in the police academy, and then I will be a cop," Taylor shot back at him, the fire burning in her eyes.

The two of them stood glaring at each other before Flack pushed her back, pinning her against the door, and pressed his lips down on hers, kissing her furiously. "You're not a cop," he repeated between the kisses. "You're a journalist."

"Give me a year, and I won't be," Taylor told him as his mouth travelled to her neck.

"You are not joining the force," Flack told her. "You love your job too much."

"Which one?"

Flack stopped and pulled away, "God Damnit, you are infuriating."

"Seems I'm learning that from you," Taylor grumbled.

Flack took half a step back, his hands still holding her arms. "Why can't you just agree to stop getting yourself in these situations?"

"Why can't you accept the fact that I have no choice in the matter? Why does it bother you so much?" Taylor asked him.

"Because I love you, damnit," he admitted.

Taylor stared at him in a stunned silence. "Come again?"

Flack stared back at her. "Because I love you," he repeated. "I get so scared every time I hear that something has happened, and I don't like you playing the hero as much as you don't like me playing the hero." He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I love you. And it's alright if you don't feel ready to say it back, this wasn't how I wanted to tell you this, but, I'm glad I have." He frowned. "Now, tell me that you're not going to give up your job," he demanded.

"Like hell I'm giving it up," Taylor told him, pulling him to her, kissing him just as furiously.

. . .

"We need to fight more often," Flack told her as he tucked his slightly crumpled shirt back into his pants.

A very flushed Taylor pulled her top back on. "And why are you only on desk duty?"

Flack grinned. "Want to tell the chief I'm fine?"

"Hi, sir, yeah, Detective Flack is perfectly capable of returning to full duty… oh, how do I know…? Well, let's just say that the closet is no longer the room of choice for sex in the workplace."

Flack laughed. "Oh, I dare you."

Taylor swiped his arm. "Not going to happen. " She sighed. "Let's make a deal, here and now."

"What deal?" Flack asked suspiciously.

"No more arguments about getting into dangerous situations. No matter what we do, or say, it's going to happen."

"Taylor, you shouldn't be in situations where they become dangerous to begin with," Flack pointed out.

"I shouldn't be seeing ghosts. But I am. So deal with it," Taylor told him, but her tone was much softer.

"Fine," Flack caved. "But it means you can't have a go at me, either."

Taylor nodded. "I'm going home. You want me to wait for you?"

"No," Flack shook his head. "I'll come to yours when I've finished up."

"So long as you don't expect me to cook."

"Babe, I wouldn't dream of it." He gave her a quick kiss, unlocked the door, and left.

"Babe?" came Maddy's voice. Standing next to her, dressed in white, was Eric.

"Oh, please tell me that you weren't watching that," Taylor groaned.

Maddy pulled a face. "Taylor, I love you dearly, but I don't love you that much."

Taylor let out a sigh of relief. "Good, because I would have to kill you, otherwise."

"What? Again?" Maddy chortled.

"I'm sure there's a way," Taylor said, her eyes narrowing.

Maddy laughed. "And I'm glad you don't know it. However, Eric here needs to say a few words."

"Thank you, Taylor."

"You're welcome," Taylor frowned. "Can I ask a question?"

Eric looked at Maddy. "You can ask it, but he might not answer it," she told her.

Taylor nodded. "Every ghost so far has come to me in the form of how they died. Why didn't you?"

Eric looked at Maddy again, who nodded. "I wouldn't have been able to give you any clues."

Taylor thought about the state of the skull they had found and grimaced, "Yeah, sorry I asked."

"Well, we should go," said Maddy. "Oh, by the way, Aiden says thank you."

Taylor shrugged. "No worries," she frowned. "Tell her thanks from me, too."

Taylor watched the two ghosts disappear and decided it was time to go home for a long, hot bath.


	85. A Promotion

_30/08/2006_

**Chapter 84: A Promotion**

Taylor stood outside the Daily building, eyeing it nervously. It was still under construction and hidden behind miles of scaffolding, but the sight of it was producing butterflies in her stomach. She shook the uneasy feeling away and urged herself past it.

It had been the first time she had been back to the building since the blast, and the only reason she had gone was the fact she was supposed to be meeting Alex shortly. Of course, the meeting was to take place in his temporary office in the Weekly's building on the other side of the island, but the meeting was a sign that it would soon be time to return to work… and to the building.

Something, which she wasn't entirely sure she was ready for.

She pushed the thoughts out of her mind as she flagged a cab. However, even as she took the three flights of stairs – she couldn't be bothered waiting for the elevator – to Alex's office, the butterflies didn't seem to want to be in any hurry to leave.

Alex was sat his desk, looking at something on his computer when she stuck her head around the door. Greeting her with a huge smile, he waved her in. "Taylor, how are you doing?"

Taylor smiled back as she sat down. "Pretty good. Turning down offers from the Times," she joked.

Alex shook his head. "You joke now."

"Alex, you gave me my starting chance – I'm going nowhere," she grinned, "But I wouldn't say no to a pay rise."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Glad to see that explosion didn't knock your sense of humour out of you."

"Who said I was joking?" Taylor asked, her eyes glinting mischievously.

"Well, you are in luck," Alex shrugged.

"Huh?" Taylor's mouth dropped open. She hadn't been expecting him to agree.

Alex sighed and leant back. "When we made the temporary merge with the Weekly known, we had hundreds of letters asking where the crime column had gone." Taylor's eyes widened in surprise. "We conducted a survey. It turns out that your column is pretty popular. So much so, we want to make it bigger."

A huge grin appeared on Taylor's face. "How much bigger?"

"A full page spread," Alex told her calmly.

The grin disappeared. Taylor gaped at her boss. "But that's… I..."

"Now, you can stop panicking," Alex told her, smiling. "I want to make it a weekly thing. Something for the Monday edition."

"Wow," breathed Taylor. "That's… Alex, that's my dream you're handing me."

Alex shrugged. "You make me money. And you're loyal." He frowned. "Of course, submitting your section five minutes before the deadline will have to go." Taylor nodded, still somewhat dazed. "And we'll need to get some publicity behind it."

"Publicity?" Taylor asked, suddenly wary again.

"A few posters, advertisements – that kind of thing," Alex told her, wafting his hand around in a dismissive manner. "I've already given the project over to Sasha to handle."

"Wow," Taylor repeated. "Please, nothing big, though. I didn't become a journalist as a backdoor method to celebrity status."

Alex arched his eyebrows. "And if CNN offered you a spot?"

Taylor grinned. "Well, it might be about time to find myself a new dream. But how about I deal with a page before I get a news segment?"

Alex laughed, "I'll tell Ted Turner to hold back on his offer."

. . .

A good couple of hours later – talk of her page segment had drifted to other topics over a cup of coffee – and Taylor was heading to the precinct. It was still crazy early in the morning (Alex liked to hold his meetings early, that way everyone was set for the day, regardless of whether or not everyone else had anything to do) and she figured Flack would appreciate a bagel with his morning coffee.

Waving hello to Bosco and Faith, she hurried up the steps, thankful that the snow had finally gone, and into the precinct, heading straight for the office Flack shared with the other homicide detectives. He looked up in surprise as Taylor sank into the chair opposite, brandishing the toasted bagel.

Flack took it off her glancing at his watch in surprise. "A little early isn't it?" It was just after 8.30.

Taylor yawned, "Alex likes his early morning meetings."

"How did it go?"

"I got a promotion and a pay rise," Taylor sang at him, doing a little dance.

Flack laughed at her. "Congratulations."

"My first article is due on the 3rd. The paper is going back to print on the first, but my column… _page_," she grinned as she corrected herself. "Is going to be a Monday thing, so my first print is the 6th of February."

Flack leapt to his feet to hug Taylor. "That is fantastic." He was half way through pulling away when he let out a yelp.

Taylor turned around and found Maddy and another ghost watching them. "Um, congratulations?" Maddy offered.

"I knew this day was going too well," Taylor told her, rolling her eyes at her dead friend.

"Um, Taylor?" Flack interrupted.

"Oh, sorry," Taylor apologised.

"Save him." Taylor turned her attention to the ghost. He seemed to be a medic of some description, and had a bullet wound to his chest – the blood soaking his scrubs.

Maddy and the ghost disappeared as Flack's chief came bursting through the door, not giving Taylor the chance to translate what she had seen to Flack. He stopped when he realised that Flack was the only detective in the room and swore.

"Chief?" Flack said.

"Where is everyone?" he asked, gazing around the empty room.

"All out on assignment," Flack told him, looking at him with hope in his eyes.

The Chief sighed, "Flack, I need an honest answer from you. Do you think you are fit enough to be in the field?" Flack nodded, hardy daring to breath. The Chief sighed again. "Get yourself to the docks. There's an abandoned air ambulance."

"A homicide?" he asked, hoping his voice wasn't sounding as excited as he felt.

"Yeah," the Chief said.

"Something involving a medic?" Taylor asked, forgetting who she was talking to.

The Chief eyed her suspiciously. "You're that reporter, aren't you?"

Taylor sighed, "I'm a journalist. I write a crime column."

"How did you know about this case?" the burly man demanded.

"Uh," Taylor frowned.

"You said an air ambulance," Flack jumped in, "Lucky guess?" Taylor nodded in agreement as Flack's chief eyed her suspiciously.

. . .

After a very tense conversation with the Chief, Taylor had promised that she had no intention of going anywhere near the helicopter. Not wanting to get Flack into trouble, she had gone next door to the Crime Lab, where she had paced a hole into the break room floor, waiting for some news to get back to her, in some form or another.

Danny had gone with Flack, along with SWAT to the helicopter, which hadn't left Taylor feeling particularly calm, and Mac and Hawkes were dealing with a dead body across the river.

Finally, the information had all come in at once, that the two cases were connected and the clock was ticking to retrieve a liver which had been stolen from the helicopter. Taylor watched the ghost disappear, leaving her with the clue of 2 names - Dr. Keith Beaumont and Sean Hovac. Wrapping her scarf tightly around her, Taylor hailed a cab and headed straight to Hope Memorial Hospital, where after questioning several nurses, she finally tracked down the doctor she was looking for. "Dr Beaumont?" Taylor asked, getting his attention.

Dr Beaumont looked over at her, signed the chart he was looking at and walked over. "Can I help you?"

"My name is Taylor Turner, I'm with the New York Daily, and-"

"I thought the Daily had merged with the Weekly?" Dr Beaumont asked her, eyeing her suspiciously.

Taylor sighed. "It's a temporary merge. Look, I'm here about the missing liver."

"The papers know already?" the doctor asked in surprise.

Taylor shook her head. "I don't think so. I just have good contacts. Can you talk me through what happened?"

"I was told the helicopter was en route," the doctor explained. "Mr Rice had been wheeled into pre-op and ten minutes later I was told we weren't getting the liver. It had been hijacked. It's shocking."

"Taylor?" Taylor and Dr Beaumont turned to find Mac hurrying over, a scowl lining his face.

"Hi, Mac," Taylor greeted him brightly.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Following a lead?" she offered.

Mac gave her a glare before pulling out a file. "Doctor, do you know this young man?" Mac asked, holding up a picture of the victim he and Hawkes had been called out to see.

Dr. Beaumont shook his head. "No, I don't."

Mac frowned. "He signed for the liver at the donor hospital." He held up a document which the doctor took off him.

"Ryan Elliot?" The doctor asked, reading the name aloud. "He must be an organ courier. Works at the other hospital. The organ was taken from the donor. It's rare that I meet them. I'm usually in surgery."

"Is it the proper procedure for the courier to deliver the cooler?"

"Well, it varies," Dr Beaumont shrugged. "More often than not, I pick up the donor liver myself. In other cases, I've had the pilot of the helicopter walk it right into the OR."

"Last night you didn't pick it up. Why not?" Mac asked.

"My first concern was Mr Rice's ability to undergo major surgery and I had to be here," Dr Beaumont told them, indicating to the man hooked up to a ventilator behind them.

"Well, other than your staff, the staff at the donor hospital, air traffic control – who else would know the helicopter was carrying a liver?"

"Well, if you're considering suspects, detective, the list is endless," he said. "If the donor was a victim of something like a car accident, anyone at that scene could assume, or possibly know that his organs would be harvested. Our patients and their families wait a very long time for the organ for a transplant. Their only hope is that someone will step up and volunteer, or someone that is young and healthy and has agreed to donate the organs dies. They're desperate."

"Desperate enough to kill for an organ that could be incompatible?" Taylor asked.

"I wish I could point you in the right direction, I really do. Because that liver is only viable for another twelve hours. My patient may not live that long." Dr Beamont excused himself and headed towards his patient, leaving Taylor with Mac.

"Taylor, what are you doing here?" he asked her carefully.

Taylor frowned. "He's lying," she said, ignoring his question as she watched the doctor's retreating back.

Mac frowned back. "Lying about what?"

Taylor opened her mouth then stopped. She shrugged, "I don't know. But he's with holding some form of information."

"Well, that is my job, and not yours. And I would appreciate it if you didn't start questioning witnesses."

"I was following a lead," she insisted.

"I don't care, Taylor," Mac exploded on her with a calm anger. "This isn't about getting an exclusive. We are trying to find a murderer, and by the sounds of things, prevent another."

"I had a visit from a ghost," Taylor objected.

Mac sighed. "Taylor now is not the time to be coming to me with ghost stories. We have twelve hours to find that liver and save a man's life." He turned and started to leave, before adding. "And I would appreciate it if you kept out of this case," before leaving Taylor staring after him, wishing for the umpteenth time that he believed her.


	86. I Hate When You Do That

_30/08/2006_

**Chapter 85: I Hate When You Do That**

By the time Taylor had gotten into the elevator and was heading to the roof and the helipad (she had figured that as that was where the vic had died, he may well point something out to her) her feeling of disappointment towards how Mac had reacted to her had changed to one of annoyance. She had helped out on so many cases, and he still didn't believe her. Was it going to take a repeat of the Lessing bombing to get him to believe her?

She growled to herself and stormed out onto the roof, only to find him, Flack and Danny already out there. It was too late to turn around and hide as all three of them had turned at the sound of the elevator pinging open.

"Taylor, what are you doing up here?" Mac asked impatiently, the first to speak. "I thought I made myself clear downstairs."

"Mac, I don't want to be here. I want to go home, maybe do a few chores – get some laundry done. But instead, I have to chase around after ghosts-"

"Pilot radioed ATC from here when he landed and again when he took off," Flack interrupted. He could tell that Taylor was about thirty seconds away from losing her temper, and ultimately doing something she might regret. After months of having shoes launched at him, he could easily recognise the warning signs. "His destination was the Thirty Fourth Street helipad which is just across the river from where we found the helicopter."

Mac turned his attention from Taylor to Flack, "So the flight path didn't appear off course on the ATC radar. When did they know that helicopter was hijacked?"

"Fifteen minutes after it took off from here. The pilot was able to enter into a different frequency, which alerted air traffic control that the aircraft had been hijacked."

"Did you get a chance to talk to the pilot?"

Flack nodded. "Yeah, I did. He's still a bit rattled. Not too helpful with the description. He said there were two guys. One guy held a gun to his head."

Danny, who had been joined by Taylor, was crouched down, looking at something on the ground. "Looks like blood to me, here, boss. The pattern looks like it's consistent with the vic's gunshot wound."

Mac frowned and walked over. "So he was shot here and turned for some reason. The bullet sliced through his flesh, fell there," he pointed to a spot on the ground.

"Yeah, we got blood," Danny confirmed. As Mac had been talking, he had been confirming the finding with the phenolphthalein. "Where's the bullet?"

Taylor joined Mac, Danny and Flack in peering over the building at the street several stories below. She was the first to step back, clutching at Flack's arm, the strong winter winds making her feel uneasy so high up.

Flack gave her a reassuring smile, before turning to Mac. "Could the bad guys have picked it up?"

"They couldn't have known that the shot was a through and through," Mac told him. "The bullet bounced there, and fell over the edge."

"So all we have to do is search the streets below?" Taylor suggested, hoping that the ghost might reappear and point the bullet out, making it easier.

"There is no _we_, Taylor," Mac said impatiently. "Now, either you go home and stay out of this case, or I will have you arrested."

Taylor's mouth dropped open. Even Danny and Flack seemed a little surprised at the finality of his command. "Mac, I'm just trying to help. Like I have every other time. Why is this time so different?"

"Because this time, there is a life to be saved. Are you coming, Danny?" Mac barked, before heading for the elevator.

"But I've helped on other cases where there was life at stake," Taylor objected, but it was too late. Mac had already entered the elevator. "Am I missing something?" she asked Flack (Danny had given her an apologetic look and hurried off after his boss).

Flack shrugged. "I was going to ask you the same thing." He sighed, "Perhaps you _should_ go home."

"I can't," Taylor objected.

"You can. You just won't," Flack corrected her. "Look, I appreciate why you won't," he told her quickly before she make an indignant response. "But I think you should listen to Mac. He doesn't make idle threats, and if you end up locked up, it _will_ be a case of you can't."

"Fine," Taylor grumbled, turning to head to the elevator.

"Hey," Flack called, hurrying after her. "I'm not the bad guy here. Don't take it out on me."

Taylor stopped abruptly and let out a long sigh, "I'm sorry. I just…" she shook her head. "Never mind."

"You are going to go home, aren't you?" Flack asked her, catching the new look of determination that had appeared in Taylor's eyes..

"I'm not going to interfere, don't worry."

Flack sighed and watched her walk away.

. . .

Taylor had done exactly what Flack had suspected she would, and what Mac hoped she wouldn't and gone back to the crime lab. However, she had gone to the morgue, rather than the labs, to pester her roommate. Marty was busy processing a body when she arrived. "What's the matter?" Marty asked, as soon as he spotted her.

"What makes you think there's something wrong?" Taylor asked.

"Well, before you snapped at me, you looked like you wanted to stab someone… you still do."

Taylor let out a defeated sigh and sunk into a chair. "Mac," she admitted shortly.

"Care to elaborate?" Marty set his scalpel down.

Taylor shook her head. "Just his whole, ghosts don't exist spiel."

"Ah. Sorry, but I can't help you with that one," Marty admitted.

"Yeah, I know," Taylor muttered, dejectedly.

"So, not that I'm not happy to see you, but why are you here?"

"Because," Taylor said. "Mac won't let me near this case, for some reason, and I figure his ghost might appear and give me a clue."

Marty frowned. "But, if Mac won't let you near this case, what good is it going to do if-"

"If I'm not around when he is, I can work on the case, and then present him with some substantial evidence. Or even give the information over to someone else."

"You know, your stubbornness is going to get you into some serious trouble one day," Marty sighed. "Alright, who is your vic. We'll pull his body out."

"Mac said his name was Ryan Elliot."

"Well, that's easy. This is him."

Taylor stood and peered at the body, trying to ignore the y-incision and the other injuries. "You know, I'm not so sure it is."

"Uh, yeah, it is," Marty told her.

"The ghost that came to visit me gave me two names, and alright, so it could be the name of his killer, but it's never that easy," she insisted. "I think it's his name."

Marty sighed, "Either your ghost is Ryan Elliot, or he's not been identified correctly." He pulled his gloves off and headed to the phone, dialling a number. "Hey, Hawkes… the vic – have you confirmed his ID, yet…? Well, I think you should… Yeah, I'll email the prints up now."

"Thanks, Marty," Taylor smiled as the coroner headed towards the morgue's computer.

. . .

A while later, and Taylor had been politely asked to leave the morgue, for distracting Marty too much, so she had headed upstairs. As she walked down the corridor, she realised that what she was doing somewhat instinctively, was the wrong decision. If Mac caught her, she was in trouble. And Flack wouldn't be particularly happy either.

As the thought crossed her mind, she spied Flack through the glass walls about to turn the corner and head in her direction, accompanied by an officer and a woman. Panicking, Taylor ducked into through the first door next to her. The door closed softly behind her, and Taylor realised, in relief, that she had walked into the observation side of the interrogation room.

She leant against the wall to wait for Flack to start the interview. She didn't want to risk bumping into him: she wasn't ready for another argument. But as the interview began, her curiosity got the better of her, and she sank into a chair.

"You have very beautiful eyes, you know that?" the woman asked Flack.

On the other side of the glass, Taylor narrowed her eyes.

"Thank you," Flack replied dryly. "Now why don't you tell me about the night you got collared?"

The woman smirked. "You got a girlfriend?"

Taylor stared at her, wondering whether or not she should be feeling as jealous as she was.

"Who'd you give the gun to, Angie?" Flack asked her, ignoring the question.

Now Taylor was wondering if she should be feeling upset that he didn't mention her, or relieved that he was protecting her (it was the only reason she could come up with for him not answering yes).

"I've been here before," Angie told him, staring defiantly at him. "Some cop or DA gets me to tell him what they need to know, makes me a lot of promises on how they're going to get me out, a week later and I'm still in the same kind of trouble as I was before I said anything."

"We can work something out," Flack told her. As she rolled her eyes instead of replying, he leaned forward. "Would these eyes lie?"

Angie stared at him and sighed, slumping back in her chair. "I had just left the dry cleaners. I took off down 64th and maybe halfway down the block I tossed the gun in a garbage can."

"There's a lot of garbage cans on 64th street," Flack frowned.

"There were brown stones, gold plated door bells, lots of flowers in planters around trees, two red bikes chained together, silver garbage can with a lid."

"You had to be moving pretty fast. And you managed to remember all those details," Flack stared at her. "Or maybe you had to remember exactly where you tossed it so you could call your friends and tell them exactly where to pick it up? Who has the gun?"

Angie's jaw dropped open. "Are you kidding me? I didn't waste my one phone call on those knuckleheads. They're the reason why I'm here now. If I was you, I would check with the guys at sanitation. But that's just me."

Flack stared at her before getting to his feet. He was about to leave the room when he stopped. "Was the can full or empty?"

"I remember the sound of the gun hitting the bottom."

Taylor watched him leave, waited five minutes for Angie to be led away, and then waited a further five minutes before cautiously poking her head around the door. She was about to step outside when someone cleared their throat behind her. Jumping in fright, Taylor quickly retreated back into the room, spinning around and finding Maddy and Sean Hovac (Hawkes had confirmed that the body didn't belong to Ryan Elliot – he had sighed for the organ but had never been near the roof).

After eyeing the Mercedes badge he was holding, Taylor left the room, heading for Danny's office, creeping the entire way there in hopes that she wouldn't be noticed. In fact, when she hurried into the room and sank into the chair, she was barely noticed by Danny who was busy running something on his computer whilst Lindsay was talking impatiently to Adam on the phone.

Taylor arched her eyebrows at Danny, who merely shrugged at her. As Lindsay's voice became more impatient, the two turned their attention to her.

"Adam… Adam…! Ok, ok, sorry. I'll leave you alone," Lindsay expelled a frustrated growl and slammed the phone down.

"Very attractive," Danny muttered at her.

Lindsay glared at him, and then sighed. "The DNA sample from the sex kit of our vic, Lillian Stanwick, is a complex mixture of multiple donors."

"Well I suggest that you just kick back and relax. It's going to take Adam quite a while to isolate the profiles."

Taylor sat in the middle watching the exchange like it was a tennis match. It was quite entertaining, watching the two of them interact, especially as it seemed like Lindsay hadn't even noticed she was there.

"Have you ever gotten an anonymous phone call from a woman?" Lindsay asked Danny suddenly. Maybe she really hadn't noticed her.

Danny gave her a searching look then nodded, "Sure. It's happened."

"Does it turn you on?" Lindsay asked, completely seriously.

Danny's hands shot up as his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "Whoa! Slow down there, Montana." The look of surprise was replaced with a flirty smirk. "What did you have in mind?"

"Our vic was having relationships with over twenty men. All on the phone."

"Sounds like an addiction."

Lindsay sat back. "These guys were really hooked," she told him, her voice telling them that she found it hard to believe. "She was just a voice. They knew nothing about her – not even what she looked like."

Danny nodded. "It's a fantasy. Uncomplicated means of sexual arousal." He shrugged. "You get a little something-something, but don't have to pay for dinner."

"How can anybody be satisfied with just that? I find it hard to believe that one of these guys is not our killer-slash-rapist."

"Phone sex doesn't fit the profile of a rapist," Danny told her.

"Because rape is about control and not sex?"

"Right," Danny confirmed. "And your vic was the one initiating the phone calls, right? Okay, so, she was in control. Not these guys."

"So it's a possibility that Lillian Stanwick was raped by a total stranger."

"It's possible."

Lindsay sighed. "Right, I'm going to go see Adam."

"Montana, breathing down his neck isn't going to get him to work any faster."

"You clearly haven't perfected that method yet," she muttered as she marched out of their office.

"You are _so_ going to call her tonight, aren't you?" Taylor grinned. Danny flapped his mouth open and closed. "No, I've not turned psychic, Danny. It's just blatantly obvious."

"Why are you here, Drew?" Taylor started to explain the latest clue when the computer beeped at Danny. "That's what I'm talking about. Alright, we've got a hit."

"Anything to do with a Mercedes?"

Danny looked over from the computer screen. "Damnit, I hate it when you do that."

Taylor grinned. "What? Help on a case, or predict what your evening activities are going to be?"

Danny threw a pen at her.


	87. All's Fair In Love And Death

_02/09/2006_

**Chapter 86: All's Fair In Love And Death**

Taylor walked around a corner and collided with Danny who was running out of a lab, knocking her to the floor. "Desperate to make a phone call?" she asked him as he helped her to her feet.

"Sorry, Taylor, can't stop – I think I've got a lead," Danny told her before taking off again. "And that's not funny," he yelled over his shoulder as he disappeared from sight.

Sniggering to herself, Taylor carried on... until she spotted Mac. Quickly she ducked into the nearest room – this time it was Stella's office. "Taylor? What are you doing here?"

Taylor smiled sheepishly. "Avoiding Mac."

"You're not doing something you're not supposed to be doing, are you?"

Taylor gave the question some consideration. "By whose definition? Because the ghost wants me to help, but Mac doesn't."

Stella laughed. "And that's why you're creeping around? I've spotted you ducking into various rooms throughout the day. I thought you were avoiding Flack," she explained.

"Well, I kind of am, but only because he thinks I'm not here," Taylor admitted.

There was a knock at the door and Taylor dove behind Stella's desk. "Taylor, it's Frankie, and it's also a glass door," she laughed as Frankie came in.

Taylor popped her head up, "I knew that!" she exclaimed. "I was just, uh, just looking for a contact."

"Behind Stella's desk?" Frankie asked.

"Well, it's not here," Taylor said brightly, ignoring the burning sensation from her cheeks, as she got to her feet and headed for the door. Part of the way there, she spotted the box in Frankie's arms, just as Stella did.

"What have you got there?" Stella asked.

"See for yourself," Frankie told her, setting it down on the table.

Full of curiosity, Taylor hesitated in the doorway, wondering what was in the box.

Stella pulled the lid off and pulled out a sculpture, "Oh my God. Frankie, that's beautiful."

Beautiful was the last thing Taylor would have called it. It was ugly… in a… nope, it was just plain ugly.

"It's called an Aresanob," Frankie explained. "The many faces represent your amazing vision of the world, the coarse orange scales represent your tough, outer armour, and the solid white skull is your pure angelic soul."

"Aresanob?" Stella repeated softly, admiring the creation.

"It's Peruvian. It means 'soul of a woman'."

Taylor decided it was time to leave. Before the soul erupted from the… thing… and attacked her. As she left Stella's office and turned a corner, she spotted Mac storming out of the interview room, before she had a chance to hide out of the way. Thankfully, he didn't spot her, heading in the opposite direction.

Taylor breathed a sigh of relief, which was quickly cut short as her cell phone started ringing and she jumped. "Flack!" she cried down the phone.

_"What?"_

"Don't scare me like that!" she told him.

_"I, uh… what?"_

"Never mind," Taylor collapsed against a wall. "What's up?"

_"Look, all this uh… being out in the field has worn me out. I'm just going to go back to mine tonight."_

"Are you alright?" Taylor asked urgently, knowing Flack wouldn't be telling her otherwise if it wasn't the case.

_"Yeah, I uh, I'm just tired – that's all. I'm going to get an early night."_

"Do you want me to-"

_"No,"_ Flack cut her off. "_It's alright, I'm practically at home anyway, and seeing as you're at yours… by the time you get here, I'll be asleep."_

"Alright," said Taylor, "Call me if you need anything." She hung up with a frown, wondering if he was really alright, and if she should go over there. But he had asked her not to…She slipped her cell phone back into her pocket.

"Thank you," came the voice of Sean Hovac.

Taylor jumped again. "No problem," she told him, trying to calm herself.

"He's in surgery."

Taylor frowned, still distracted by Flack's phone call. "Who is?"

"The liver recipient. He's in surgery."

"Oh, good," Taylor said, realising what he was talking about, just as he disappeared. She shook her head, feeling a little rude at the abrupt conversation, but seeing as there was nothing she could do, she decided that it was time to go home. _Before_ Mac spotted her.

Or at least she would have done if the gossip queens hadn't caught her attention.

"First day back on the job and look at him."

"I know! It's such a shame that that pretty face had to get messed up again."

"You know, he wasn't actually supposed to be back in the field until Thursday."

"Really? I wonder how his girlfriend is taking that?"

"Have you not noticed that she'd been lurking around the lab all day, spying on him?"

Taylor had heard enough at pretty face get messed up again. Did that mean what she thought it did – that he had been hit? Taylor didn't know if she wanted to murder him, or mother him. With a sigh, she took the third option.

Making sure she wasn't spotted, she hurried to her locker and grabbed her gym clothes before heading to the building's gym. Well, he didn't want to see her, did he?

Three hours later, her arms were aching from punching a punching bag as hard as she could, and currently her legs felt like they were going to drop off (punching simply hadn't had the same therapeutic properties as running did, and as she wasn't daft enough to go running outside at this hour… again, she had opted for a machine).

Finally feeling a lot calmer, she slowed to a walk to cool off. As she caught her breath and wiped the sweat away, she realised that she had been a lot more stressed than she thought she was – she had clocked up several miles.

Wearily, she showered and changed before heading down and out onto the street where she hailed a cab. Halfway home, however, she changed her destination and by the small hours of the morning, she had paid the driver and was outside of Flack's apartment building.

Taylor hammered his call button impatiently, well aware that the reason he was taking so long to answer was because he was asleep.

His gruffy voice as he answered confirmed that. _"Y'ello?"_

"Flack, it's me."

_"Taylor?"_

"Yeah. Let me in," she told him firmly.

_"What are you doing here at this time?"_

"Currently: freezing to death, so hurry up and let me in."

There was a long pause, "_I thought I asked you not to come around tonight?"_

"About that," said Taylor. "Is that because you have a headache from being kicked in the head, or because you don't want me to see your black eye?"

There was an even longer pause.

"Flack?" Taylor grunted as she hammered at the call button. The next minute, the door was opened and Flack appeared dressed in a pair of blue, silk pyjamas. And sporting a very nasty black eye.

Determined not to cave, she glared at him. "Did you have any intention of telling me, or were you just going to avoid me for the next week?" Flack sighed and stepped to one side to let her in, and followed her to the elevator. "If this were the other way around, how mad would you be?"

"If this were the other way around, I would be fuming, seeing as you had tackled a suspect when it wasn't your job. However," he added, cutting Taylor off before she could speak. "We made an agreement that we wouldn't keep going through this, and so I wouldn't have said anything." The two exited the elevator and headed towards Flack's door, which was propped open with a shoe. "So why are you allowed to break the agreement?"

"Flack!" Taylor exploded, "I'm not mad at you because you got hurt, I'm mad because you tried to hide it!"

"Do you mind?" interrupted one of Flack's neighbours. "It's three am. Some people have to sleep."

"Sorry Frank," Flack apologised as he ushered Taylor into his apartment and to the kitchen. He had long ago learned that if you wanted to have a 'heated discussion' the kitchen was the room the neighbours couldn't hear you in.

Taylor stormed in and began pacing the kitchen. "Flack, the reason I didn't agree to go out with you sooner was because of trust issues. If I've made a mistake, tell me now, before I get even… before this goes any further."

Flack grabbed her shoulders, stopping her pacing. "Taylor, I love you, and I trust with you. With my life. I didn't tell you because I didn't trust you. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry."

"Flack, I found out from those blasted gossip queens! Christ, Flack. If it wasn't for the fact I was in the lab and happened to overhear…" she trailed off at Flack's arched eyebrows and swore under her breath.

"You were in the lab?" Flack repeated, sounding strangely calm.

Taylor winced. "Yeah."

"And why were you in the lab? Especially as Mac asked you to go home."

"Because I couldn't help the ghost from home?" she offered. Flack smiled at her. "Alright," said Taylor slowly. "That's not quite the reaction I was expecting."

"We're even."

"You can't just… but..." Taylor sputtered. "Ugh, fine." She backed up and heaved herself up on his kitchen counter.

"Has anyone ever told you you're cute when you're angry?" He asked, his head cocked, a lazy smile on his face.

Taylor arched her eyebrows. "And has anyone ever told you, you have beautiful eyes?"

Flack frowned at her, wondering exactly what she was one about. And then it clicked. "You were watching that interview?"

Taylor nodded, "Yup."

"Damnit, Taylor, I swear you know more about what's going on in that lab than even Mac does."

"Probably not... actually," she frowned. "There are a few things I know that he doesn't."

"Want to share them with me?"

"Not my secrets to tell," she told him apologetically.

Flack nodded. "You should be careful, though."

"Careful?"

"Yeah, you're too curious for your own good," Flack pointed out.

"I'm a journalist. Curiosity is like... part of my DNA, or something."

Flack crossed his arms. "And look what curiosity did to the cat."

Taylor glared back at him. "Well, it's a good job I'm not a cat then, isn't it."

"Well, aside from the fact I'd be allergic to you, you'd probably be better off being a cat - at least then you'd have more than one life." Taylor just continued to glare at him. Flack grinned. "You really are cute when you're angry."

"Cute?" Taylor repeated. "Stop calling me cute."

"You don't want to be cute?" Flack asked in amusement.

"No, I want to be intimidating or threatening… or at least… stop laughing at me!" she glared at him as she punched his shoulder.

Flack just laughed harder. "I can't help it. It's too cute."

"You know, I came over here to see if you were alright, to see to your wounds," Taylor grumbled.

Flack's eyes widened. "Does that mean you're wearing that nurse's outfit?"

"Does it look like I'm wearing a nurse's outfit, doofas?"

Flack stepped closer, and began to pull her coat off, slipping his hands under her top. "I don't know, let's find out."


	88. A Girl's Best Friend

_Meadow567 - their relationship is new(ish), and they're going to iron out the kinks. It won't all be make up sex after that! And pregnant? I hadn't even gotten that far along in my mental plot-line. I have them living together... thats about it._

_SparkyCSI - Gutterville is a beautiful place to live... glad you embraced that! Yeah, he really does have beautiful eyes! (:p)_

_demolished-soul - you are very right about that! And I winced too!_

_UnspokenFaith - My friend thought it was lovely - I thought, how long til Stella throws it out! I think they should put playful Flack on the show. And the Winchester brothers. That would be nice._

_Dybdahl - I hope you got your homework done. Ugh, homework! Glad you liked!_

_sarramaks - I'm glad to hear that, (about Flack, I mean) it makes me happy! (:D) I'm biased for Manchester as well - I'm from there too! Well, Buxton-ish... but Manchester is the closest city._

_snowbear96 - he's slowly learning! Thank you!_

_Alana Xavier1 - That really sucks. I'm already fretting about how I'm going to watch the new season. I don't expect it to be out in England until after Christmas (:()_

_Swede85 - yay, glad I made you smile! And I'm sorry for the spoilers. I think I'm only going to use All Access from season 2 now. Although, I have used a fair chunk of them (:s)_

**_Spoliers: All Access, which is 2x21... I think!_**

_Well, this chapter didn't turn out how I expected. But oh well!_

_And many thanks to the fabulous SparkyCSI for beta-ing!_

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 87: _People die, but real love is forever_**

Taylor awoke to the sound of her phone vibrating on her wooden bedside table, blaring out _You're So Vain_. She groaned, and flicked it open. 'What's up, Messer?'

'_What are you doing?'_

'I was enjoying a lie-in,' Taylor told him dryly.

'_So you're awake, now?'_

'Yeah,' Taylor grumbled, pulling herself into a sitting position.

'_You busy?'_

'What do you want, Danny?'

"_Your help.'_

'Of course, what do you need?' She asked, slightly alarmed.

'…_Help shopping.'_

'Shopping?' Taylor looked at her clock, 'you woke me up at 8am for help shopping?'

'…_yeah.'_

'And Don can't help you wi-'

'_No, I need a woman's opinion.'_

'Lin-'

'_Definitely not,'_ Danny cut her off.

'Danny,' Taylor frowned, 'I am not helping you buy Lindsay underwear.'

Danny sighed. _'It's not underwear.'_

------------------------------------------------------------

Taylor stood opposite the Newspaper stand in Grand Central and hugged her coat tightly around herself. The snow had gone, but it was still bitterly cold outside. Taylor found herself wishing, for a countless time, that she had a car she could currently be sitting in with the heat on full. As she turned her thoughts to cursing Danny for waking her up at such an unearthly hour (well, it wasn't _that_ early, but she had wanted to stay in her warm bed for a few hours longer), the devil himself appeared.

'Drew,' he called, hurrying over.

'This had _so_ better be good, Danny,' she muttered under her breath.

'Thanks for coming,' he added, sheepishly.

'You gonna tell me what the emergency is?' She asked him as she followed him out onto the street.

Danny looked at her from the corner of his eye as the two of them walked down 5th Avenue, however, he didn't reply, only turned his attention to the sidewalk he was walking on.

It wasn't until the two of them turned onto West 47th Street, that Taylor stopped, causing Danny to do the same, 'Danny, this is Diamond Row,' she said slowly.

Danny nodded, still not looking at her.

'Danny,' Taylor repeated. 'Why are we heading down Diamond Row?'

'To buy a diamond?'

Taylor's jaw dropped open, 'Danny!' She let out an excited squeal and wrapped her arms around him.

'I knew I should have come by myself,' Danny muttered, but he couldn't keep the grin off his face.

'When?' Taylor asked him, releasing him from the embrace. She stopped and punched his arm.

'What was that for?' Danny objected.

'For sending me halfway across the city to tell me what the hell was going on,' Taylor told him.

Danny rolled his eyes. 'I didn't expect you to guess what we were doing until we walked into the first jewellers,' he muttered, rubbing his arm, 'I was hoping that being inside a store would have protected me from your violence.'

Taylor let out of an exasperated sigh. 'Just because I spend far too much time at the Crime Lab to get a decent manicure every once in a while, does not mean that I wouldn't recognise Diamond Row if I was taken down it. Do you have any idea how many hours I have spent window shopping down here?'

'Probably about double what you'd admit to,' Danny said, carrying on and into the first store.

'So, when are you going to pop the question?'

Danny smiled, 'I was thinking, Valentines Day.'

Taylor frowned. 'Is that because you think it's the romantic thing to do, or because it feels right?'

'Both,' Danny offered, as he headed over to one of the displays.

'Danny,' said Taylor gently, laying a hand on his shoulder. 'Don't do it because you can't think of anything to get her for Valentine's Day.'

'I do love her, Drew,' he told her earnestly. 'She makes me feel-'

'Different,' Taylor finished.

Danny nodded, 'I want her to be the mother of my children.'

Taylor arched an eyebrow. 'Spawn of Messer? I hope they take after Lindsay.'

Danny gave her a playful shove as he pulled a face at her.

'Can I help you?'

Danny and Taylor calmed down as a man, who Taylor desperately wanted to call Jeeves, stood waiting for a response.

'I want an engagement ring,' Danny told him.

"Jeeves" smiled, 'Congratulations,' he told both Danny and Taylor. 'Platinum, white gold, yellow gold, two golds, one diamond, two diamonds, a trilogy, other precious stones,' Jeeves began to list before either Danny or Taylor could correct him.

Danny held up his hand to stop the assistant. 'Whoa… what?'

'What kind of ring are you looking for?' He looked expectantly at Taylor, as though she would have the answer.

Taylor sighed. 'The ring is not for me. I'm just helping.'

'Oh,' said Jeeves. 'Well, um… would you like me to give you a few minutes?'

Taylor nodded, 'We'll have a look.'

Jeeves nodded and stepped back to allow them to look.

Danny gazed over all the rings. 'I didn't think it would be that difficult to pick out a ring.'

Taylor smiled sympathetically. 'Just ignore his barrage of questions. Look around – the right ring will find you. You don't have to get it from this store, either. this is Diamond Row, after all – there is more than one jeweller on this street.'

Danny stared at her and then nodded, before looking at the hundreds of rings on display.

Taylor turned her attention to an earring display as Danny surveyed the rings. A good half hour later, his excited cry broke the comfortable silence of the store. 'Drew! This is it!'

Taylor hurried over and looked at the ring he was pointing at, letting out a low, impressed whistle. 'Damn, Danny. That's a half carat diamond.'

Jeeves was over in seconds. 'Would you like a closer look, sir?'

Danny nodded and Jeeves unlocked the display, pulling out the velvety hand the ring was on, handing it over.

Danny turned it over, inspecting it. 'Yeah, this one.'

Taylor looked at the yellow gold ring with the solitary Leo-cut diamond and smiled – Lindsay was going to be happy with his choice.

'And what size would you like?'

'Huh?' Danny asked, staring blankly at the assistant.

'Ring size, Danny,' Taylor explained, wiggling her fingers.

'I don't know,' shrugged Danny.

The assistant let out a harassed sigh.

'I brought one of her rings though,' Danny said, pulling out a small gold band from his pocket.

Jeeves took it off him and slipped it onto the special measuring stick he had.

Half an hour later, Danny and Taylor were heading back to Grand Central, with Danny clutching tightly at the ring in his pocket.

'I'm impressed,' said Taylor.

Danny grinned at her.

'But one question?'

'Yeah?'

'Are you going to announce your engagement before, or _after,_ you tell the everybody that you're actually dating?'

Danny rolled his eyes. 'Let me ask Lindsay first. _If_ she says yes, we'll deal with this then. And not a word of this to _anyone_! Or else!'

Taylor laughed, 'I'm saying nothing, Messer.'

------------------------------------------------

That was Monday. Friday, which was the thirteenth, was slowly living up to its reputation.

Taylor hit the send button, waited for the confirmation that her article had made it in, and then turned off her computer. Instead of leaving her desk, however, she pulled out an envelope from her drawer and stared at it. It had arrived that morning and even if the return address hadn't given it away, Taylor would have recognised the name emblazed in gold across the top of it in an instant.

She glanced over at the clock and groaned. It was nearly eleven already. Which was bad for three reasons. The first being that she had missed the Kid Rock concert. Not her first choice of star, but Michelle in Entertainments had tickets and had convinced Taylor to come to it with her. After the Daily had reopened a fortnight ago, Taylor hadn't been in, and Michelle, the two of whom had had adjacent offices had gotten along well, decided she hadn't seen her colleague in far too long.

The second was the fact it was an hour away from being Valentines Day, and Flack was still at work.

The third (and in her opinion, the worst), was that it was also an hour away from being her birthday. Not that growing another year older was the worst thing in the world. No, it was the fact that her birthday was on Valentines Day. Admittedly, she had told everyone since she moved to New York that it was on the fifteenth, including everyone at the Crime Lab, but the fact was Valentines Day wasn't her favourite day of the year.

Pushing all three thoughts aside, she turned her attention back to the envelope and with much reluctance, opened it. Inside were two items. The first was an official looking letter which she read twice. The second was a plane ticket.

Feeling a knot forming in her stomach, she placed the items onto her desk and hung her head in her hands, staring down at them. And then the room temperature dropped.

'Hi Maddy,' she muttered.

'Um, Taylor, I, uh… you're not going to like this one.'

Taylor whipped around, her heart close to leaping out of her throat, spotting Frankie, and the three bullet wounds in his chest.

'Stella killed me,' he said, somewhat mournfully.

Taylor's mouth dropped open.


	89. The Blame Game

_04/09/2006_

_Spoliers for 2x21: All Access_

**Chapter 88: The Blame Game**

Taylor froze, the panic stopping her from thinking clearly. Stella had killed Frankie? And Frankie was _telling_ her this. Telling her who his murderer was? This was a new one.

She snapped to life, grabbing her cell phone and her keys. She was hailing a cab within minutes, heading over to Lexington Avenue. She tried calling Stella, on her cell and her apartment, but there was no answer. She even tried her office in a last ditch desperate attempt. And then she tried Flack, and Mac, but neither of them were answering. In the end, after carefully planning what to say, she called 911.

"Hi, um, I think my friend might be in trouble. She's a detective."

_"And what do you think has happened?"_

"I think someone has been shot," she told the operator, giving them Stella's address.

_"What makes you say that?"_

Taylor lost her patience. "Because I heard a gun go off." Obviously, that wasn't true, but she wasn't about to try the whole, 'I see dead people' spiel when it involved Stella. She hung up and began cursing the traffic which wasn't moving as fast as she would have liked.

Finally, she arrived outside Stella's. There were patrol cars everywhere, and, Mac's company SUV. At least he had gotten the message somehow. She paid the driver and ran up the stairs to Stella's door, where she was stopped by Davis. "Taylor?"

"Davis, let me through!" Taylor cried, trying to wrestle free from his grip.

"I can't do that, Taylor."

"Like hell you can't," she said, ducking under his arm and running through the door.

"Taylor!" She ran smack into Bosco, who took a more… firm approach.

"That's as far as you're going," he told her.

Taylor glared at him. "Don't make me hurt you!"

"Hurt me, and I arrest you."

Taylor's eyes narrowed. "Arrest me then," she told him, before giving the surprised officer a shove and breaking free of his grasp, dashing into the other room where Mac was bent over Stella's body, and Flack was checking Frankie for a pulse.

"I got a pulse. Call EMS." Mac yelled over at Flack. "Stella. Stella!"

"Taylor, what the hell are you doing here?" Flack cried as soon as he hung up his phone and spotted her.

Behind her, Bosco burst into the room. "You are so busted!"

Flack took one look at Mac and ushered the two of them out of the room.

"Is she alright?" Taylor asked, ignoring the handcuffs Bosco was pulling off his belt.

"Put those away," Flack told him sharply, earning him a glare. "Taylor, what are you doing here?"

"Frankie – he told me… he came to see me," she told him.

Flack got the message instantly. "Bosco, it's alright."

Not really wanting to follow through on his threat, but still annoyed that Taylor had pushed him, Bosco put the cuffs away and stalked off.

"He told me Stella killed him. Don, they don't do that. They don't tell me who killed them, and even if they did, well, it's obvious, isn't it? Look at… look at that room – the gun was by Stella and, oh lord, is she-"

"Taylor," said Flack sharply. She was getting slightly hysterical. "We are not going to jump to any conclusions. What is Mac always saying? Let the evidence speak for itself. Let Mac find out what happened." He pulled her aside to make room for Kim and Alex to get past with a stretcher.

"I'm going to the hospital with her."

Flack shook his head. "Mac's going with her. You can come with me – we'll follow behind as soon as I make sure this scene is secure." He led her outside and told Davis and Faith to keep an eye on her. Taylor complied with his wishes, even when Stella was wheeled out on a stretcher and despite the urge to rush over to her.

By the time they arrived at the hospital, outwardly, Taylor seemed exceedingly calm. Inwardly, her brain was still racing a million miles a second. Flack disappeared just as the dawn was breaking to talk to Mac, while Taylor was finally allowed in to see Stella. "Hey Stell," she greeted softly, peering around the door.

"Taylor?" Stella looked over in surprise.

"You want some company?"

Stella, who was sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, nodded, and Taylor sat down next to her in the chair. "I should have known you'd come."

"Why?" Taylor asked. Surely she didn't know about Frankie?

"You seem to sit by everybody's bedside," Stella told her with a small smile.

"Well, you know Mac. He won't let me work a case because he's jealous of the fact that I can solve a murder quicker than he can." She froze as she realized what she said, "Oh, Stella, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant."

Stella smiled weakly, "I don't remember what happened," she told her in a hoarse whisper, tears beginning to catch in the corners of her eyes.

As Taylor leant over and squeezed her hand, Mac appeared at the door. He stood staring down at her, a blank expression on his face, and Taylor just wanted to slap him for it. Okay, so he had to do his job, but Stella was his friend. "Stella, what happened?" he asked her.

Stella couldn't look at him. "It was awful," she told him, in between trying to sniff back the tears. "I remember some things, and there are others I just can't… I can't remember."

Mac's expression broke into one of concern as he gently placed his hand on her back, "It's okay. Whatever you can't remember, the evidence will fill in the gaps. Look, we're going to have to do an entire work-up on you. Rape kit. We found you unconscious. We need to know exactly what happened. You're not a CSI on this one, Stella. You're a victim. A forensic nurse is going to process you, and then Flack will talk to you a bit. I'm going to go back to your apartment. Do you have any objection to me looking around?"

Stella shook her head, "No… no."

Mac left soon after that, promising that he would find the answers. But not before he looked at Taylor, the message clear in his eyes, _look after her for me._

Taylor gave him a brief nod that she understood, and watched him leave, settling back in the chair. If Stella wanted to talk, she was here, until then, she would let her friend lie back and rest.

Unfortunately, that rest didn't last long as Taylor would have hoped for, although Stella did manage to get a few hours of restless sleep. Flack appeared with a cup in his hand at ten am. He gave Taylor a quick smile before he handed the cup over. "Two aspirin, extra strength." Stella took the cup off him and swallowed the tablets. "Stella, this is Linda. She's here to process you," he told her gently.

"Hi," said Linda, before glancing over at Taylor.

Taylor got to her feet and gave Stella's hand a squeeze, "I'll be just outside if you need me, Stella." Stella nodded and Taylor followed Flack out. "Do we know anything yet?"

Flack shook his head, "Mac's just gone back to the apartment."

"He's not working this solo, is he?" Taylor asked in surprise.

"No, he's got Hawkes on it. Danny and Lindsay are carrying on with the limo driver case."

"Limo driver?" Taylor frowned, wrinkling her nose.

"Kid Rock's driver got shot earlier tonight."

"I was supposed to go to that," Taylor muttered, even though it hardly seemed important now.

Flack stared down intently at her. "Are you alright?"

Taylor shrugged. "I'm not the one in a hospital bed."

"That's not answering the question," Flack told her with a frown.

Taylor shrugged, "I don't know. This all seems wrong… just… wrong."

Flack wrapped his arms around her. "Be careful, Taylor."

. . .

"Detective?" It was Linda. "I'm done."

Flack gave her a smile and turned to Taylor. "You want to come in with me?"

Taylor frowned. "Is that alright?"

"Well, we'll have to ask Stella, but it's not official."

"If she wants me in there, I'm going." She followed Flack back into the room.

Flack headed over to the bed and stared down at Stella. "Hey," he said softly. "Mac wanted me to get some info off you, off the cuff, just so that we can make sense of what happened. Do you feel like chatting?"

"Sure," she told him.

"I have Taylor here too," he gave Stella a wink. "Now be warned, I think she's only here because she's nosey."

Taylor gave Flack a shove. "Hey, doofas," she rolled her eyes at Stella. "Thinks he knows everything, but he's wrong, as per usual." She grew serious. "Look, I'm only here for moral support. _If_ you need me? I'll go if you want?"

Stella gave her a grateful smile. "No, please stay."

Taylor nodded and headed to the far side of the bed.

"Well, let me tell you what I know," said Flack, growing serious again. "COD on Frankie was a fatal gunshot to the heart."

Stella sighed. "That's just it. I only remember bits and pieces."

Flack sat down next to her. "Alright, well, just start with what you remember. Bad day, huh?"

Stella nodded with a dry laugh. "Frankie was following me. I had been out, running some errands, and he cornered me at my car. I'd been avoiding his calls all week."

"But when I saw the two of you together last, he'd made you that…uh, sculpture," Taylor interrupted.

"Aresanob – that's what he called it," Stella said dryly.

"A woman's soul, or something," nodded Taylor.

"Aresanob is Bonasera backwards. I got on the internet and did a search – I saw me and Frankie making love," Stella's voice broke. "It was all over the internet." She sniffed, collecting herself. "So, when he cornered me in the parking lot, I broke up with Frankie right then and there. I told him that I never wanted to see him again."

"And where did you go after that?" Flack asked gently.

"I finished some errands, and then I went home. When I got there, I heard noises – it was Frankie. He was in the kitchen."

"You weren't armed?"

Stella shrugged, "I had my piece in my handbag. I didn't think Frankie was a threat. You know, I thought he broke in to get back together."

"Did Frankie have a key to your apartment?"

Stella firmly shook her head. "No. No, he had never even been to my place. It's one of my rules. No men in my place. Just in case things go bad, I always have a safe place to go home to."

Taylor got up from her seat and began pacing back and forth in front of the window. This still felt too wrong. Why had Frankie come to her? With Maddy?

"So you have no idea how he got in, huh?" Flack asked, keeping his eyes on Stella.

Stella shook her head as she struggled to remember. "Maybe he kicked in the door?"

"When you got back to your apartment, you used your house key to get in, right?" Flack offered gently.

Stella sighed. "Yeah."

"And the door wasn't kicked in. Frankie didn't kick in your door, Stella. I did. Frankie got in your apartment somehow. Frankie was an artist, right?"

"Sculptor."

"Traces of polymer clay were found in the key hole. He made a mould of your key. The lab also found microscopic particles of the dust inside the door knob. He used liquid metal to make a cast."

"It's how he got in. Son of a bitch probably took the key right off of my key ring," Stella growled.

Flack nodded. "Let's go back to Frankie being in your apartment for a sec. How come you didn't call us?"

Stella frowned. "I, uh, I tried to. But he yanked the phone out and threw it across the room. So I made a run for the front door, but he grabbed me and hit me. I told him not to… I told him, don't you get violent with me, but he had a knife."

Taylor couldn't take it anymore, "I'm sorry, Stella, I…" she walked out of the room without even giving a reasonable explanation.

A few minutes later, Flack was tearing down the corridor after her, "Taylor?"

"I can't do this, Don. Not again," Taylor admitted.

"What do you mean again?"

"This is the second friend who… I met Frankie, chatted with him, even went out with him a couple of time. I should have seen it. If it wasn't for the fact that… it could have been Stella's ghost visiting me."

"Hey, hey," said Flack, wiping the tears that were now streaming down her face, away with his thumbs. "This is not your fault."

"No?" Taylor asked him. "I didn't do enough with Maddy, and now with Stella?"

"Stella was not the victim of domestic abuse. Nobody saw this coming, Taylor, not even Stella. And Maddy dying wasn't your fault. I thought you were past that?"

"My best friend died because I didn't do enough to help her," Taylor snapped at him. "Of course it was my fault."

Flack took a deep breath, "Taylor, do me a favour and go to the Crime Lab. Stay in Danny's office, or something… you don't need to be here. I'll look after Stella."

Taylor ran her hands through her hair and sighed, "I'm sorry."

"And stop apologizing. It's not your fault." He watched her nod, even though he knew she was still blaming herself, and then gave her a quick kiss, before watching her leave.


	90. They Made A Mistake

_05/09/2006_

_Spoliers for 2x21: All Access_

**Chapter 89: They Made A Mistake**

Taylor decided that she needed to clear her head, opting to walk to the lab. As a result, it was an hour later before she turned up, dripping wet from the pouring rain and, although she didn't feel it, freezing cold.

She was walking numbly through the reception when Prue, the receptionist called her over. "You have a Valentine," she told her, indicating to an enormous bouquet of red roses. "That detective must love you a lot – there's twenty seven roses there! That must have cost a small fortune."

Taylor was about to tell her that they weren't from Flack, when Lindsay burst past her, Danny close behind. "Montana, hey! What's up? Hey, this guy's about to fold." Danny grabbed Lindsay, who whirled around at him, fire in her eyes. "Hey-hey-hey, ease up, ease up."

"You know what, Danny?" The fire was quickly replaced with tears. "Maybe you should just handle this case by yourself, okay?"

"Mac's handling Stella's situation, alright?" Danny told her slowly, as though the speed of his sentence might calm her down. "If he needs us, he'll let us know. But until then-"

"I just wish that there was something that we could do to help."

Taylor could relate to that, although, this time there _had_ been something she could have done, and she'd failed.

"You know what Stella would say? What we could do to help the most? Is close this Russo case. Alright?"

Lindsay nodded, her gaze falling past Danny and onto Taylor. "Is Stella alright?" she asked hurrying over.

"Yeah," said Taylor, "I just…"

There had been a handful of times Taylor could have kissed Danny for reading the situation in a way she would have considered almost clairvoyantly for him. This was one of them. "Damn, I never would have pegged Flack for the clichéd roses kind of guy. He's never made that big a deal about Valentine's Day before."

Taylor shot him a grateful smile. "They're not from Don."

Danny smirked. "You got another guy on the side?"

"Yeah. My father," Taylor admitted.

"Your dad sends you flowers on Valentine's Day?" Danny asked with a laugh.

Lindsay smacked him in the stomach. "Mine used to do that, so leave it alone."

"It's not a Valentine's Day present."

"What did you do for your dad to send you a bunch of flowers _that_ big? There's got to be about thirty stems there!" Lindsay exclaimed.

"Twenty seven," Taylor corrected quietly.

Lindsay clicked instantly. "But your birthday is tomorrow."

Taylor sighed – it was confession time. "My birthday is today."

"But why would you say your birthday was tomorrow?" Lindsay asked in confusion.

"Oh dear, it's a real life cupid!" Danny exclaimed.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "_That's_ why."

"Because of idiots like Danny?"

"Hey," objected Danny.

"I wasn't the most popular kid in school – I was… I was Nancy Drew. And my initials are TNT. And I was born on Valentine's Day." Taylor shook her head, "I moved to New York and the only thing I could change… I just told everyone my birthday was on the day after Valentine's Day. Besides, everyone was always doing something coupley, so I changed the day so I didn't have to compete for a night out. It's not that big of a deal."

"And the flowers?" Lindsay asked, back to admiring the enormous bouquet.

Taylor shrugged. "My parents were never going to agree to a change of birthday. Dad sends me a rose for every year of my life. It's his joke for me being a Valentine baby. Anyway, do you mind if I go sit in your office with you?"

Danny shrugged. "We have work to do, but you're more than welcome to go sit in there if you want."

Taylor nodded. "I'll catch up with you guys later," she told them, picking up the bouquet which was actually pretty heavy.

"Hey, Cupid," Danny called after her.

Taylor whirled around. "Call me Cupid again, and I will make sure that you will never have babies."

Danny held his hands up. "Drew it is."

Taylor rolled her eyes at him. "What is it, Danny?"

"You know any celebrities which own a kinkapoodle?"

"A what now?" Taylor asked, staring blankly at him.

"He means a kinkajou," Lindsay informed her, rolling her eyes.

Taylor frowned. "Not a clue," she apologized and headed straight for their office, taking a seat at Danny's desk so that she could keep an eye on the door. She stared at the flowers before pulling the card out from them.

_Every time I manage to convince myself that you're still my baby, I find it's the time of year that I have to send you these._

_Happy birthday, Taylor._

_All my love, Dad._

_P.S. I've sorted you out with a car – you should be getting a letter about it soon, if you haven't already._

. . .

Taylor was staring out of the window, watching the rain fall when the room went cold. She turned around and found Maddy and Aiden, both looking worried. "Um, we have a problem," said Maddy.

Taylor could feel the knot in her stomach, which had yet to disappear, grow tighter. "Be a little more specific," she told her slowly.

"Frankie." Aiden said.

"Stella?" Taylor asked instantly.

"She's alright," Aiden assured her.

"Then what's the problem?" Taylor asked.

"He's, um, disappeared."

Taylor felt faint. "What do you mean, he's disappeared?"

Aiden sighed. "We…The Powers That Be made a mistake. He's not supposed to be going to a nice happy place."

"What do you mean, they made a mistake?" Taylor repeated.

"We were under the impression he was," Aiden frowned. "I wouldn't go so far as to say he was good, but technically, he was murdered."

"By Stella!" Taylor exploded. "You know Stella! It was hardly in cold blood."

"The point is, Taylor, there are rules. And normally, these rules work. But every so often there is an exception. And in this instance, Frankie was an exception."

"Well, find him!" Taylor snapped.

Maddy bit her lip. "That's the problem. We can't."

"You can't? You're ghosts. Where exactly can he hide?" Taylor asked in disbelief.

"In someone."

"In some… you mean he's possessed someone?" Taylor asked. The two ghosts nodded. "Well what are we going to do about it?"

"We need to un-possess whoever he has possessed," Maddy told her.

"Exorcise his spirit," Taylor corrected her.

Maddy nodded. "You need to find a holy person."

"A priest?"

Aiden frowned. "Technically, that wouldn't work. Well, it would, but the Catholic Church rarely admit to a possession. Few religions do. You're going to have to go outside the loop on this one."

"How am I…?" Taylor trailed off. "Will a witch doctor do?"

"You can find a witch doctor?" Maddy asked in disbelief. Taylor nodded. "Damn, I need to keep a better eye on the company you keep."

"Maddy!" Taylor exclaimed. There was a time and a place and this wasn't it.

"Once you find him-"

"Her," Taylor corrected her friend.

"Her. Once you find her, she should know what to do. But then you're going to have to find Frankie."

Taylor rubbed at her temples. "You need to keep an eye on Stella."

"You think he'll go after her again?" Aiden asked.

Taylor sighed. "I hope not, but I've had this funny feeling all day that I can't seem to shake, and something is telling me that we need to keep an eye on Stella."

. . .

A while later Taylor was in Harlem, staring up at one of the old buildings, hoping beyond hope that the woman she was seeking still lived there. She hurried into the building to the apartment she was looking for and started banging on the door.

It swung open in front of her. Tentatively, Taylor peeked her head around the door. "Mama Severina?" she called, stepping into the room. The candles, which lit the room, flickered. "Mama Severina," she called again, heading for the dark living room.

"You have returned, Child."

"Oh, thank God," Taylor sighed in relief, hurrying over to the elderly woman's side.

"Your aura has changed," said Mama Severina. "You have found your purpose in life. And you allowed love into it." Mama Severina smiled. "The blue-eyed detective."

"How did you…?" Taylor shook her head, "That's not important. Look, my friend."

"The other detective who came. The woman with corkscrew curls."

Taylor's jaw dropped open. "Alright, that is down-right freaky."

"Child, I can read it in your aura. It's like a book, if you know how to read it."

"Then you know why I am here?" Mama Severina nodded. "Can you help?"

"Yes, Child."

"Then what do I need to do?" Taylor asked urgently.

"You need to find the evil spirit."

Taylor frowned. "How do I do that?"

Mama Severina smiled. "You already know the answer."

"Stella," Taylor realised.

"Let what you seek come to you. Fight it on your ground."

"What about the exorcism?"

"You leave that to me, Child. I need to prepare. But I will be there when the time is right."

Taylor's forehead wrinkled up in confusion. "But how will you know where I am?"

"You're not the only one who can talk to spirits, Child." Taylor nodded, somehow she wasn't surprised. "Oh, and I gave you that gris-gris for a reason."

"Gris-girs?" Taylor's hand dropped into the bottom of her purse, where, after much rooting around, she found the silver dime Mama Severina had given her all that time ago.

"It protects from evil. Silver is the pure metal – the metal evil fears."

Taylor stared at it, before rolling up her trouser leg and tying it around her ankle.

"I will see you soon."

. . .

Taylor found herself marching through the hospital with a purpose. Helping the dead was one thing, but right now, she could do something proactive. Save a friend. Alright, so, she had saved Flack, but that was by being nothing short of a stubborn mule. This was different.

She met Mac as she headed towards Stella's room. "Evening, Taylor."

"Hi, Mac. Are you here to pick Stella up?" Mac nodded. "Mac," Taylor bit her lip. "Do me a favour and keep an eye on her."

Mac frowned. "Why?"

"Because she needs a friend," Taylor told him, trying to think on her feet.

"I'm going to make sure she gets home alright."

Taylor nodded and followed him into Stella's room where she and Flack were talking.

"Thank you," said Stella, pulling on her jacket. "Thanks for staying with me, Don."

"Don't sweat it. Flack shrugged. "It's my job. Not to mention, you're a friend."

"You're a very good friend."

Flack leant over and wrapped his arms around Stella, giving her a tight hug.

"Should I be jealous?" Taylor asked, lightly.

Mac smiled. "I heard somewhere you were getting out of here."

Stella nodded. "I don't like hospitals."

"I'll walk you out." Stella gave Taylor a smile and followed Mac out.

"Do you mind if I head back to the precinct?" Flack asked Taylor, who was trying to watch Stella walk out.

"Huh?" she asked flicking her eyes back to him.

"I know it's Valentine's Day, but I want to get this paperwork out of the way so Stella doesn't have this hanging over her head for longer than she needs."

Taylor had completely forgotten about what day it was, her mind obviously on other things. "Oh, yeah, that's fine."

"Taylor, are you alright?"

Taylor looked back at him. "Yeah." Taylor gave him, what she hoped was, a reassuring smile, and all but ran out of the door, trying to catch up with Stella.


	91. Finding Frankie

_06/09/2006_

_Spoliers for 2x21: All Access_

**Chapter 90: Finding Frankie**

Taylor felt like a spy in a movie as she told the cab driver to follow Mac's SUV. The cab driver either had plenty of practice of this request, or had seen too many of the same films that Taylor had, as he tailed the SUV all the way to Stella's apartment.

In all honesty, Taylor wasn't surprised that she had gone home. It seemed like a very Stella thing to do, facing her fears. It also meant that it would be easier to keep an eye on her. If she could keep an eye on the door, she could stop Frankie before he even got to Stella's front door.

_An hour previously…_

Mac pulled up outside the hospital feeling both weary and relieved… and more thankful than he had been in a long time. He locked his truck and headed inside the hospital.

He headed up the stairs, determined that he would convince Stella to stay somewhere else. Clean-up had yet to arrive in her apartment, and no one should have to look at all that blood and relive everything again. Part way up a doctor who was walking down the stairs knocked his shoulder. And then his world went black.

_Currently…_

Outside, Taylor stamped her feet against the cold. Thus far, all that had happened was the slow loss of feeling in her toes. No one had been into the building at all since Stella and Mac had gone up, and no one had come out either.

"It's time," came Mama Severina's voice, scaring her.

Taylor shook her head. "No one has been up there. Frankie's not there yet."

"I think he is," said Aiden quietly, appearing alongside Mama Severina, with Maddy.

"But the only other person up there is Mac," Taylor pointed out. Maddy nodded. "But…" Taylor trailed off and glanced up at the building. "Mac!"

_An hour and ten minutes ago…_

Frankie was standing outside Stella's room, watching her with that detective.

When he was eight, his mother had told him off for standing outside of her bedroom watching her, slapping him and calling him a pervert. All he had wanted to know, as children do, is why mommy had different body parts to him. Frankie learnt his lesson. And so did his mother. She never laid a finger on him again.

By eighteen he learnt that there were certain places you had to hit someone so that it couldn't leave a mark.

By twenty four, he found that his tongue was capable of inflicting much more pain.

When he met Stella, all that changed. He changed. He became a different person: Someone who saw the beauty in everything. She was the reason for that. Soon after meeting Stella, he found that he was selling more sculptures. He had found his muse, and he didn't want to let her go.

And he didn't want the rest of the world to suffer for his selfish act of wanting to keep her to himself. So he didn't. He let the world see her at her most beautiful, her most vulnerable, her most honest time: when she was making love to him. He even made the website in her honour, naming it after her. Of course, he could also show the world that she was his, and make sure that the world knew it.

And then his world came crashing down around him. Only days after he had poured his soul into a sculpture, a sculpture for her, _of_ her, she had finished it with him.

Determined not to let something that good slip through his fingers, he took the key she had allowed him to make and gone into her apartment to surprise her with a candlelit dinner. Only, she had accused him of breaking in and told him to leave before he had the chance to tell her how much he loved her. And that hurt. That hurt a lot.

So he took the lesson he taught his mother, and tried to teach Stella the same lesson. Hurt me and I will hurt you. He was only trying to protect himself.

And then it all went wrong.

He was staring at this blonde angel who was standing next to his dead body. His dead body. He was still in shock when the angel took him to see Taylor.

Taylor Turner? What the hell was she doing seeing ghosts? He always knew there was something wrong with that woman. And that was when the plan began to form.

Stella killed me he had told her. Oh yes, it was a very clever plan. New York had the death penalty. And murder one was punishable by death, especially if the judges decided to make an example of her. And if she was dead, she would be with him forever, and even in death, he would have his muse, his beauty. She had told him she loved him. And the best part was that he wouldn't have to share her with anyone.

And then it all went wrong, _again_.

He had finally shaken that annoying angel and decided to take matters into his own hands So he had gone to the hospital to plead with Stella to admit to what she had done. But she was too busy having her mind warped by that annoying detective she worked with. Fat or Flat, or something equally irritating.

So he had taken his anger out on the coffee machine in nurse's office. He hadn't been expecting it to actually go flying. So when the nurse came running in to see what the crash was, he decided to try his new powers again. Only this time, the nurse didn't go flying… he did… into the nurse. And then he was in a living body again.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he found that he could transfer himself at will to a doctor, after the doctor had told him that Stella was being discharged.

He realized then and there that Stella wasn't going to face charges. So he would have to find another way to bring her to him. He couldn't do it himself. He couldn't have Stella see him as the one that brought him to her. It would have to be a person.

Not the doctor, though. He wouldn't be able to get near her after she left the hospital, and she couldn't die in the hospital. There was too great a chance that she would be revived.

Her own apartment was his best idea. Somewhere she was familiar with, where they could be alone, that also had the added bonus of being where he died.

Tempting as it was to use that irritating detective, he probably wouldn't take her home. No. There was one person who would take her home. One person she would trust. The person she had allowed to sit with her.

Taylor Turner.

Now, if only he could get to her before she got her. He didn't need the doctor to come to his senses outside of Stella's door. That would draw too much attention. He would just have to meet her before she got there.

He headed for the stairs, and started running down them. And then he saw him. Mac Taylor. An amused grin passed the doctor's face. Either Taylor would be good enough. Stella trusted them both. Maybe it was something in the name? No matter. Stella would soon learn that there was only one person she could really trust.

_Five minutes previously_

Mac watched Stella go into the building. She had put on a brave face saying she would be fine at home. But he knew Stella. She would want to leave that place. She would want to go to his, to Mac's. She would feel safe there. But that wasn't part of the plan. It had to be her apartment. There had to be the connection.

He went up and knocked on the door. He could hear her check the peephole before she opened it.

"Mac?"

"I figured you wouldn't want to stay here, despite what you said," Mac said.

Stella slowly nodded, "I thought I could do it, but I don't think I can. I think I might take you up on your offer." She stood to one side to let him in.

"Actually, I think staying here might be the better option," Mac told her.

Stella cocked her head at him. "But…I... I'm not sure I'm ready for it."

"Stella, it you fall off a horse, you get back on again. You need to stay here, or you won't."

Stella sighed, "I know. I just don't think I can be alone here." She shivered. "It's like Frankie is still here."

Frankie beamed. She could sense him, even though he was dead. They were _clearly_ meant for each other.

"What if I stay with you?" Frankie/Mac suggested.

Stella stared at him, wondering where this new Mac had come from. Wherever he had, he was right. She needed to stay here. "You don't mind?" she asked, hoping that she wasn't sounding as relieved as she thought she did.

Mac nodded, "I'd do anything for you, Stella. I hope you know that."

Stella smiled, "Thanks, Mac."

Mac?


	92. An Exorcism

_08/09/2006_

**Chapter 91: An Exorcism**

Taylor knocked as calmly as she could on Stella's door, not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that she was scared as hell. Maddy and Aiden were waiting out of sight with Mama Severina, leaving Taylor to try and gain entry by herself.

It was Mac who opened the door.

"Taylor?" His eyes narrowed.

"Hi Mac," she greeted, trying to be cheerful as she practically barged past him into Stella's apartment. "Is Stella around?"

"She's in bed already," Mac told her, still not looking happy.

"She won't mind if I go and see her," Taylor told him as she started to head in the direction of Stella's bedroom.

Mac grabbed her wrist. "I don't think that's such a good idea," he told her.

"Mac, you're hurting me," Taylor winced as he refused to let go of her arm.

"I'm not Mac," Frankie/Mac hissed, "But I think you know that." He yanked her arm, pulling her back to the door, pinning her against it.

"Mac!"

Frankie/Mac slapped her. "Stop playing games, Taylor. We're both well aware of who I am."

Taylor nodded as best she could against the hand that was wrapped around her throat. "You're right," she gasped. "I do know who you are. And I'm here to stop you."

"You can't stop me," Frankie/Mac laughed.

"Maybe not by myself," Taylor told him, a smile creeping across her face, despite the tightening grip.

"Don't tell me you brought that pretty-boy detective with you," Frankie/Mac scoffed.

"Oh no," Taylor gasped, the smile still there, "I brought people who could actually hurt you."

Before Frankie could work out what was happening, Aiden came flying through the door, through Taylor, and launched herself at Mac's body, knocking him away from Taylor.

Taylor sank to the ground in a coughing fit as she watched Aiden engage in a mini-battle to pin Mac's body to the floor, without actually hurting him. Frankie didn't seem to be in any hurry to let that happen, as he thrashed Mac's body around. Taylor leapt to her feet and opened the door to allow Mama Severina in.

Mama Severina was armed with a book, a cross, and a bottle of what looked like water, but Taylor suspected was more likely to be holy water. "_Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei._" Mama Severina cried as she threw the water over Mac's body. It began to steam where it hit, and Mac, or Frankie (Taylor couldn't quite tell) began to scream in pain. "_Patris omnipotentis, et in noimine Jesu, Christi Filii ejus, Domini et Judicis nostri, et in virtute Spiritus. Sancti, ut descedas ab hoc plasmate Dei, quod Dominus noster ad templum sanctum suum vocare dignatus est, ut fiat templum Dei vivi, et Spiritus Sanctus habitet in eo._"

Mac's body began trembling under Aiden's weight

"_Per eumdem Christum Dominum nostrum, qui venturus est judicare vivos et mortuos, et saeculum per ignem!_" Mama Severina finished in a roar, as, in a cloud of black smoke, Frankie came rushing from Mac's body.

As Mac's body slumped to the floor in an unconscious heap, Taylor dashed over to make sure he was alright. Frankie launched himself across Mac's body and towards Taylor, but Aiden got there first, knocking him away, and disrupting half of the things on Stella's counters as he did.

"What the hell is going on here?" Stella cried as she ran into the kitchen at the sound of crashing furniture.

From her position over Mac, Taylor turned to face Stella, "Stella, get back in your bedroom, NOW!" she roared. Stella took one look at Mac, Mama Severina, and her belongings which were going flying around her room by a seemingly invisible force and nodded, backing away.

"Mama Severina," Taylor yelled. "Finish this, before it gets out of control!"

"Child, if I complete this, there is a chance that Aiden will go with him."

Taylor froze, watching the two spirits battle with each other. Aiden was busy dodging fists as she punched and kicked Frankie around the kitchen.

"DO IT!" Aiden shouted.

"But-!" Taylor tried to object.

"Taylor, just do it," Aiden told her through gritted teeth.

Taylor nodded at Mama Severina. "_Everto , EGO exorcise vos. Licentia is universitas quod take vestri malum vobis!_" Mama Severina cried.

"I love her!" Frankie yelled. "I love her!"

"_Licentia is universitas, quod nunquam reverto!_"

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" Frankie disappeared in a puff of fire, still firmly attached to Aiden.

"Aiden!" Taylor cried, sinking to the floor in sobs.

"What's the matter?" Aiden asked, cheerfully, appearing behind her, her once perfectly immaculate white suit showing some burn marks.

Forgetting she was a ghost, Taylor leapt to her feet and hugged the poltergeist. "You're alright."

Aiden hugged her back. "It's gonna take a lot more than that-"

"Aiden!" Mama Severina scolded. "I will not tolerate language like that around me."

Aiden grinned cheekily, "Sorry." She glanced down at her outfit. "Huh," she shrugged. "I wonder if we have a dry cleaners."

"Is he gone?" asked Maddy as she appeared through Stella's closed bedroom door. "Because Stella is freaking out in here."

Seconds later, Stella burst out of her room, a large packed bag in her hand. "Taylor, what the hell is going on in here?" she all but shrieked as she realized that items were no longer flying around the room by their own accord.

Taylor hurried over. "Stella, I think we should sit down a minute."

"I don't want to sit down," Stella told her. "I want to know why there were things flying around my room, why Mac is lying unconscious on my floor, and why there is a strange woman brandishing a cross in my kitchen?"

"Detective," said Mama Severina. "The Child here has just saved your life." She walked over to Stella, taking her away from Taylor, and much to Taylor's surprise, sat Stella down. "The man on the floor was possessed by an evil spirit."

"Frankie?" Stella whispered, a shiver running down her spine.

Mama Severina nodded. "You are safe now, though. Frankie is no longer here."

Stella looked around the apartment, her eyes finally settling on Mac. "Mac?"

"He's fine," Taylor reassured her.

"He will have a headache and remember nothing when he reawakens," Mama Severina confirmed.

"We should get him off the floor and wait for him to awaken," Taylor sighed.

"No, Child. You have a final job to do."

Taylor stared at the witch doctor and nodded, not asking anymore questions. The look in Mama Severina's eyes told her that whatever the next job was. Stella didn't need to know. "Stella, will you be alright?"

Stella nodded. "I'll watch Mac."

Taylor smiled and headed for the door, followed closely by Mama Severina. "I'm sorry, Stella," she told the curly haired detective, before leaving. It wasn't until they were outside that Taylor asked what the next job was.

"You have to destroy his bones."

Taylor gaped at her. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

Mama Severina smiled patiently. "I think you already know the answer to that."

"Well, why do I need to do that?"

"I think you already know the answer to that, too."

Taylor nodded with a sigh, heading to the nearest subway station.

. . .

Taylor walked wearily into the morgue, thankful that only Marty was there.

"Taylor, are you alright?" Marty asked, his voice full of concern as he noticed her distraught expression.

"Not really," she admitted. "I need to ask you something."

Marty was over by her side in an instant, seating her on a stool. "What?"

"Has Frankie's body been claimed?"

Marty frowned. "Come again?"

Taylor took a deep breath. "I'm going to tell you something, Marty, and it's going to sound crazier than anything I've ever told you."

"Go on," Marty encouraged, pulling up a stool beside her.

Taylor raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Frankie came back, as a ghost, to me… but then he disappeared. And I mean in a 'Maddy and Aiden couldn't find him' kind of way." She took another breath. "We found him eventually. He had possessed Mac, and… well, he going to kill Stella – Frankie through Mac, I mean. And then we did an exorcism."

There was a long pause as Marty processed what she had just said, "I think that made sense. But how does that relate to Frankie's body?"

"I need to destroy it."

"You what!" Marty exclaimed.

Taylor turned to look at him. "Whilst he still has that body in one piece, he still has ties to this Earth."

Marty stared at her for the longest time, and finally sighed. "Don't say I don't ever do anything for you," he muttered as he headed over to the office and disappeared inside, reappearing several minutes later with some paperwork.

"His body hasn't been claimed. It was going to be dealt with by the city," he frowned as he poured over the paperwork. "Alright, I'll let you claim the body."

Taylor bit her lip. "Could you do something else for me?"

Marty looked up from the paperwork and frowned. "Why do I get the feeling this is going to be a favour that I really shouldn't agree to, but will do anyway?"

"I don't know the name of the procedure, but I know it's possible to strip the flesh and such away from the bones…"

Marty looked away. "You know, I think you are one of the few people I can't say no to," he muttered. "It's going to take a while."

"I'll wait," she told him quietly. "Thank you."


	93. Waiting For The Hammer To Fall

_10/09/2006_

**Chapter 92: Waiting For The Hammer To Fall**

It was the small hours of the morning before there was nothing left but a pile of bones. Marty, who much to his reluctance, had been called out to assist in a pick-up, leaving Taylor alone with Frankie's bones. They lay there, gleaming up at her in an almost pure white state, almost like they were mocking her. Suppressing a shudder, she walked out of the morgue, leaving them on the table. If she was going to destroy them, she was going to have to find something to do it with. And she knew just where to look.

She headed upstairs, into the lab, and after collecting her badge, headed straight for the weapon reconstruction room, where she knew there was a nice array of weapons for her to choose from. It wasn't until she was in the room, and she realised that one of the CSIs from another shift she didn't recognise was in there, that she had any problems.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"I'm pulling in some overtime," she told him, vaguely indicating to the badge, "I need to get a, um, sledgehammer."

"What for?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"A new theory," she shrugged.

"Under whose orders?"

"Mac Taylor's. Well, he's my supervisor, but I'm working in the morgue with Marty Pino," she told him.

The CSI stared at her. "A sledgehammer in a morgue?"

"What can I say," Taylor shrugged. "It's his theory, not mine."

"What's your name?"

"Taylor Turner."

The CSI frowned. "Well, I think I've seen you around," he shrugged. "Whatever," he told her, before returning his attention to the dead pig he was savagely attacking with various knives.

Taylor left quickly before he noticed the fact that she probably looked like she was going to throw up. Only, she got three paces out of the room before he called after her. "Hang on a minute. Whose orders did you say you were working for?"

"Mac Taylor's," Taylor told him, knowing instantly that her cover was blown.

"Funny, only I checked the overtime records, and your name isn't there. Your name isn't even on the roster at all," the CSI glared at her. "So why are you here, and what do you want with the sledgehammer?"

"It's alright, Richard." Both Taylor and Richard turned and found Stella heading towards them. "Taylor was doing me a favour. I asked her to collect the uh, sledgehammer, for me."

"Stella? I heard what happened," said Richard, Taylor and the sledgehammer now forgotten about. "Are you alright?"

Stella smiled thinly. "Yes, thank you."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm taking some time off. Staying with a friend upstate," Stella explained. "But I wanted to finish something off before I left."

Richard nodded, "I'm so sorry," he told her. "If you need anyone to cover your shifts, let me know." He gave her a smile and left.

"Stella?" Taylor asked, peering curiously at her. "Why _are_ you here?"

Stella bit her lip. "Because the unfinished business is mine, not yours."

Taylor stared at her. "Are you sure? I didn't tell you about this because I figured you didn't need to know," she told her apologetically.

"Taylor," said Stella, firmly. "I need to get Frankie out of my life for good. I need to do this."

Slowly Taylor nodded, and the two headed in silence down to the morgue. When she arrived back at the morgue, Marty still wasn't back, but neither was anyone else. Stella took the sledgehammer off Taylor and walked quietly to the slab and stared down until she could no longer bare the eternal grin of Frankie's teeth. With a cry of annoyance, anger, and frustration, Stella raised the sledgehammer above her head, and brought it down on the mocking teeth, pounding at them, until they were no longer mocking her.

With each collision with the bones the hammer made, Taylor could feel herself growing calmer, and if she was feeling calmer, she was hoping Stella was feeling the same way. Finally, and only out of sheer exhaustion, Stella stopped. There wasn't a single whole bone on the table, or the surrounding floor. For the most part, it lay pounded into a grainy dust, not only covering the surrounding areas of the morgue, but Taylor as well.

Stella stood, staring at the bone, breathing heavily, not even realising that she was shaking.

Wordlessly, Taylor walked over to her and took the hammer off her, allowing it to fall to the ground with a loud bang which echoed around the morgue. As soon as she placed her hand gently on Stella's shoulder, the older woman turned to her and burst into tears. Still, without saying a word, Taylor wrapped her arms around her and let her cry, just gently stroking her hair.

Finally, Stella's tears dried up as her sobs grew quieter, and she pulled away. "We should get that sledgehammer back."

Taylor nodded. She too had realised that it was time she returned the sledgehammer before any unnecessary questions were asked. Taylor picked it up carried it to the elevator, followed closely by Stella, before returning it to the weapons cabinet.

"Are you alright?" Taylor asked her, as she closed the cabinet door.

Stella nodded. "I will be. I _am_ going upstate for a while though. I can't be in that apartment any longer, and Mac did say I could take some time off."

"How is Mac?"

"He's at his, nursing a headache, and trying to remember what happened for the past few hours. Maybe it's fortunate I can't fill him in," Stella said with a small smile.

Taylor nodded. "I think it's for the best."

"But it's over now?"

Taylor nodded again. "Yeah. It's over." Taylor looked over at Stella. "Do you want a ride?"

"You don't have a car," Stella smiled.

Taylor shrugged, "I could borrow a crime lab truck."

"I'll be alright," Stella told her. "My friend is on her way here anyway."

"Do you want me to wait with you?"

Stella shook her head. "I think I need to be alone. Sort through my thoughts."

"If you need anything-"

"Taylor, you have done more than enough. Thank you."

"Take care, Stella," Taylor told her, before heading home. She stopped in Danny's darkened office, before she left however, staring at the roses that her father had sent her.

"I thought you were going home?" Flack asked, appearing behind her.

Taylor slowly turned around and wearily looked up at him. "I had to take care of something first," she told him quietly, before picking up the roses. Flack eyed them, but said nothing. "Take me home?"

Flack nodded. "Are you alright?"

Taylor took a deep breath. "There's something I need to tell you, but I don't want to do it here."

. . .

Taylor got out of the shower, dried herself off, and dressed into a pair of pyjamas, wrapping a robe tightly around her. She padded into the living room where Flack was dozing on the couch. She leant over the back, placed a kiss on his forehead, and continued back to her bedroom, where her desk was, pulling out the letter from earlier.

"What's that?" Flack asked her from the doorway.

Taylor walked over. "Later," she told him, leading him over to the bed.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, peering down at her in the lamplight.

"Just hold me, Don."

Flack climbed into the bed next to her, and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "Talk to me, Taylor. Are you still blaming yourself for what happened?"

Taylor shook her head against his chest and took a deep breath. "You remember me telling you about my brother, right?"

"Chris? The diver?"

"The one in prison," Taylor nodded.

"Yeah," said Flack, cautiously. "The one who won't speak to you."

"He sent me a letter. Through his solicitor." She pulled it out of the envelope and handed it over.

"Dear Miss Turner," Flack read. "We have been requested by our client, Christopher Turner, to contact you. Our client expresses his sincerest apologies at his lack of contact, but requests that you come to meet with us, on his behalf, on Wednesday, February 18th, at 10am at our San Diego offices. Enclosed is a plane ticket for your convenience.

We look forward to seeing you soon,

Lyle Bernstein

Bernstein, Mayers and Monk."

Flack looked down at Taylor. "What does he want?"

Taylor shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"Are you going to go?"

"I don't know," Taylor muttered as she rubbed at her temples. "I really don't want to. I want to just ignore it, ignore him, like he has done me for the past eight years. But I don't think I can. I'm just scared of finding out what the news is."

"Look, Taylor, whatever it is you decide, you have my support, alright?"

"Thanks, Don."

"So," asked Flack, a while later. "Are you going to tell me why you were at the morgue?"

Taylor nodded, "I will do. But not now. I want to put this day behind me and forget about it."

"I'm sorry about Valentine's Day. At least it's your birthday now."

"About that," Taylor sighed. "My birthday isn't today."

Flack pulled away from her so he could look at her properly. "What are you talking about?"

"It was yesterday."

"You were born on Valentine's Day?" he asked, surprised.

"Call me Cupid, and I will have to kill you," Taylor muttered.

"Taylor," Flack frowned. "Why did you tell me?"

"I told everybody it was today," she shrugged. "Made it easier planning something when I was at college. Besides, it came with even more nicknames."

"Is there anything else you want to share?" he asked.

Taylor pushed herself away from him and found only concern in his eyes. She nodded. "Thank you."


	94. San Diego

_18/09/2006_

**Chapter 93: San Diego**

By Tuesday morning, the last thing Taylor wanted to do was a photo shoot, but she had been putting it off for so long that Sasha had finally gone to Alex. Alex had called Taylor the previous evening to tell her that she was going to this shoot before she got on the plane. So that was why, at nine am, Taylor was being ushered into a photographer's studio in a loft in Tribeca by a very excited Sasha.

Sasha was a stunning 23 year old originally from India who once had a promising career as a model until her first year of college when she had been involved in a drink-driving accident. She had walked away with only a cut on her face, the only survivor in the car.

But the cut hadn't healed and the scar meant that a career as a model was no longer an option. Yet it hadn't slowed her. She was still the life and soul of the party (although she was now, obviously, very strict about drinking and driving) and had enough energy to put even a hyperactive four year old to shame.

Excitedly, Sasha produced a gorgeous navy blue skirt suit with a white bodice-style top and a killer pair of heels. Once changed, Taylor was led to hair and make-up, where she just sat back and allowed them to work their magic, too busy worrying about the flight she was going to take that afternoon.

By the time they had finished, she had worked herself into a small panic and wasn't paying much attention to Sasha, who was kitting her out with various accessories. That was until she strapped the gun belt to her.

"What the hell is that for?" Taylor exclaimed as she realised the reason the gun was so heavy was because it was real.

"Relax," Sasha reassured her. "It's just for publicity." Sasha was exceptionally good at her job, and Taylor had listened to Al complain for a solid hour last year, yet had later been thrilled at the results of his publicity photographs.

So, despite her reservations, Taylor stood back and allowed Sasha and the photographer to work their magic. "I don't understand why you need so many," Taylor grumbled when they were done several hours later.

"More variety means more choice," explained Sasha. "Besides, Alex wants a few posters up around the city."

"What!"

Sasha grinned. "Don't you have a plane to catch?"

Taylor glanced at her watch and swore. "Sasha, promise me there won't be too many posters."

"You'll miss your flight," Sasha all but sang at her.

With a glare, Taylor grabbed her case. She'd decided earlier that she would go straight from the shoot and had said goodbye to Flack, who'd told her most apologetically that he couldn't get the afternoon off work to say goodbye at the airport, and dashed out of the door in search of a cab.

By two o'clock she was at gate 27 at JFK, pacing back and forth trying to remind herself that flying was actually safer than driving… and exorcisms.

Taylor glanced at the clock and decided that it was time to take a sleeping tablet. As she'd discovered on her flight out nine years ago, the only way she could handle it was if she was asleep.

Only, after tipping the entire contents of her purse onto the floor, dropping to her knees and searching through the upturned items, before moving onto her laptop bag, she realised didn't have them.

Taylor was about to bolt, abandoning the flight, and just go home, when a hand held them in front of her eyes. Taylor's eyes slowly followed the hand to its owner. "Don?"

"Hey, Tay."

"I thought you couldn't get the afternoon off?" she said, staring at him suspiciously.

"Surprise," he beamed at her. "You didn't think I'd let you go to the other side of the country, and back, by yourself, did you?"

"Hang on," Taylor frowned. "To the other side of the country and back?"

Flack held up a plane ticket. "Surprise again?"

Taylor squealed and leapt on him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she said into his shoulder.

Flack grinned. "Well I haven't had a vacation in six years. The Chief could hardly say no."

Taylor let go of him and dropped back to the floor to scoop up her things. "I should probably take a pill," she told him, taking the packet off him.

"Am I not good enough?"

"Not unless you intend on knocking me out. Trust me when I say that I will not be surprised if you want to take a different flight back to me."

. . .

Thirty minutes later, (after practically being dragged on the plane kicking and screaming… well, after a lot of coaxing from Flack, the man on the gate, a couple from two rows behind, and the air stewardess), Taylor was sitting on the plane, checking for the thousandth time that her seatbelt was securely fastened. Taylor gave it another tug before reaching for the safety leaflet and flicking through it for almost the same amount of times as she'd checked her belt.

"It's not changed since the last time you checked it," Flack pointed out.

Taylor glared at him and stuffed it back into the seat back. Within minutes she was tapping hand against her knee, only stopping when Flack grabbed it.

After feeling it shaking in his hand, he turned and gave her a reassuring smile. "You know you're safer flying then-"

"Then driving," Taylor finished. "And as I haven't driven much, I think the odds are in the plane's favour, so don't," Taylor didn't finish the sentence as she let out a scream instead.

"That's just the wings," Flack told her calmly.

Taylor glared at him. "Why on Earth are the wings making a noise like that? That's it!" she cried, not giving him the chance to answer as she started to take her seatbelt off.

Flack clamped his hand down over the buckle. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the plane began accelerating down the runway and into the air.

Taylor clamped on hand firmly onto the armrest and the other over Flack's hand as she shut her eyes.

"Taylor," Flack winced as the plane began to level. "I don't mind you holding my hand, but I do need to be able to hold a pen again."

Taylor peeked open her eyes and began to loosen her grip. That was until the wheels began to retract. Even Flack had to laugh at the look of horror on her face. "It's just the wheels. Calm down."

"Do you know how much I want to strangle you right now?" Taylor asked, glowering at him.

Flack laughed again and pushed the armrest up and out of the way, pulling her close. "Just shut up and go to sleep." A while later, the pills kicked in and Flack pulled out some sheets of paper from his pocket and read them.

Six hours later they landed in San Diego Lindbergh Field Airport and Flack decided to wait for the other passengers to exit the plane before waking Taylor. Not, it turned out, that he needed to have done, as she was still groggy from the pills.

She followed him docilely through the terminal, through baggage claim and into the car rental terminal, where she revived herself. "Not Budget."

"Flack frowned. "Um…alright. Why?"

"Too many bad experiences," Taylor muttered darkly.

"Any preferences?"

"Nope. Just not Budget."

Flack shrugged and headed for the nearest counter.

Half an hour later they were seated in a brand new Ford Expedition, and Taylor was directing Flack, who had insisted that Taylor wasn't driving until the sleeping tablets had completely worn off, to her old house.

"You live here?" Flack asked, a little surprised, as they drove upwards, into a hilly estate.

"Yeah, why?"

Flack shrugged. "No reason, I just figured you for living nearer to the beach."

As they pulled into the driveway, the front door opened and a woman with long, dark hair and tanned skin appeared, wearing a flowered apron.

Taylor leapt out of the car and ran up the steps wrapping her arms around her. "Mama!"

Slowly, Flack made his way over, standing at the bottom of the steps and staring awkwardly up at the embracing women.

"And who is this?" Mrs. Turner asked, glaring suspiciously down at the detective, her voice thick with a never-lost Italian accent.

"I've told you about him Mama," Taylor explained. "This is Don Flack, my-"

"The man you live with?" Mrs. Turner sniffed.

Taylor rolled her eyes, "No, mom. That's Marty, who you have spoken to, on numerous occasions. This is my boyfriend." Flack smiled politely up at her.

"I wish you had told me you were bringing company," Mrs Turner sighed. "I would have made the bed up in the guest room."

Taylor frowned. "We don't have a guest room."

"Of course we do. If you bothered to visit every once in a while you would know that."

Taylor shook her head. "It's alright," she sighed, changing the subject. "He can sleep with me."

"HE WILL DO NO SUCH THING!" Mrs Turner screeched.

"Mrs. Turner," Flack piped up before Taylor could make a responding comment. "If there is any problem, I will quite happily check into a hotel. I don't want to be any trouble."

Mrs. Turner's glared softened and she nodded her approval. "Nonsense. I'll just set up the guest room. Why don't you show him the living room, Taylor, while I put fresh linen on the bed?" She then disappeared into the house.

"Sorry," Taylor muttered. "I should have warned you about her. She's a little… traditional."

"How traditional?" Flack asked with a small smile.

"In every sense of the word," Taylor muttered dryly as she led them to the living room.

. . .

Instead of Taylor's mother calling them into the kitchen, it was the lure of a heavenly smell that brought the couple in. "Can I do anything to help, Mama?"

Mrs Turner eyed her daughter. "Stay away from my cooking."

Taylor swiped at Flack who was chuckling to himself, before stalking over to the cabinets to set the table.

A short time later, all three were sitting at the table, Mrs Turner serving the food: spaghetti bolognaise and garlic bread. Something which put a broad smile on Flack's face, as he remembered the 'meal' Taylor had attempted to cook for him.

Taylor had been right. She was nothing like her mother when it came to cooking. The food was good enough to serve in a restaurant. "Mrs. Turner, this food is fantastic."

A small smile grew on Mrs Turner's face. "You like it?"

"It has to be the best bolognaise I have ever tasted, and I've tasted a lot," he glanced over at Taylor. "Including your daughter's."

Mrs Turner burst out laughing. "And you are still alive?"

"It was not that bad," Taylor pouted.

"It wasn't this good," Flack laughed. "You'll have to give me the recipe, Mrs. Turner."

"Taylor, stop pouting. It's very unbecoming," Mrs. Turner reprimanded. "And dear," she turned to Flack. "Firstly, call me Nicolette, and secondly, I will, but only if you promise to never let Taylor attempt to cook it."

Flack grinned. "That is not a problem."

Behind her mother's back, Taylor pulled a face and mouthed suck up at him, before laughing into her fork. Nicolette turned back to her daughter. "And you can behave when you're sat at the table. I have taught you better than that."

"Yes Mama," Taylor sighed, starting to feel like a seven year old all over again.

"Now, I understand you're a detective," Nicolette said, spooning some more food onto Flack's already half empty plate.

"Yes, ma'am. NYPD."

"And how did you two meet? I hope she wasn't in any trouble."

Flack glanced over at Taylor who was staring at him, shaking her head slightly. "She helped out on a case."

"You mean she wasn't snooping around?"

"Mama!" Taylor exclaimed.

"No, ma'am," Flack chuckled.

"Makes a change. She has a habit of snooping in other people's business."

"Mom!" Taylor cried, "I don't snoop. I research."

"Which is a fancy way of saying snooping," Nicolette corrected. "Has she told you how she got suspended from high school for breaking and entering the principal's office? We were very lucky that he didn't press charges."

"He didn't press charges because I got him arrested for stealing several thousand dollars from the school's pool fund, Mother. And as soon as he was arrested, the suspension was lifted," Taylor growled at her mother. "And you weren't complaining when the story I wrote on it got me accepted into NYU."

Flack cleared his throat. "You have a beautiful home, Nicolette."

Nicolette shot a warning look at her daughter and turned back to Flack. "Thank you. We've lived here since I married Taylor's father." She got to her feet and began clearing the empty plates, until Flack got up and took them off her.

"Let me do that," he told her, taking them over to the kitchen.

"So, Taylor, you never told me what brings you back here?"

Taylor sighed. "Yes I did, Mamma," she said quietly, "Chris wants to see me." Nicolette stared at her daughter as though she hadn't replied to the question and was still awaiting the answer. "Mama, how long are you going to keep pretending that you don't have a son?"

"I don't have a son."

"Yes you do. His bedroom…" Taylor's gaped at her mother. "Chris' bedroom. That's the guest room? Oh, Mother, please tell me you didn't?"

"I don't have a son," Nicolette repeated.

"For God's sake, Mother!" Taylor snapped.

"Taylor Nicole, you will not take the Lord's name in vain in this house!"

Taylor glared at her mother, pushed back her chair, making a loud screeching noise as it scraped back across the tiled floor and stormed past Flack, who had been hovering in the doorway wondering if he should break up the argument or not, and outside into the cool night.

Taylor was leaning against the side of the rental, rubbing her temples when Flack came out a few minutes later. "Taylor?"

"She drives me insane," she told him through gritted teeth. "When she reacts the way she does about Chris I just want to…" She took in a deep breath. "He's family, Don. And it's not even like he… he was protecting his girlfriend."

Flack wrapped his arms around her. "It's been a long day, why don't we go to bed."

Taylor looked up at him. "In separate beds."

Flack nodded. "Yeah."

"Sorry."

"Taylor, the only thing you really need to apologise for are your culinary skills."

"Has anyone ever told you how funny you are?" Taylor muttered dryly.

Flack nodded. "Frequently. It's a shame I decided to follow a career in the force."

"It's not too late to quit," Taylor suggested, leading him back into the house.

"Are you kidding? Miss the real life _World's Dumbest Criminals_? Besides, I don't think the world is ready for my comedy debut." He gave Taylor a hug. "Look, try to get some sleep, alright."

"I'll try," she promised, leaving him at the 'guest' bedroom.


	95. MAG 413

_20/09/2006_

**Chapter 94: MAG 413**

Taylor awoke the following morning after a restless night's sleep, having been up for most of it staring at the black void of a ceiling above her head. She had walked around the house to try to calm herself, only to discover that not only had her mother turned Chris' room into the guest room, but had actually wiped all trace of him from the other rooms. All photos, achievements and things he'd made as a child that had once adorned the walls and sides were gone. Needless to say, her nocturnal walk hadn't calmed her at all.

After watching her mother feed Flack an enormous breakfast (she had just watched him eat, only sipping at a glass of orange juice) the two had left for the short drive into the city.

"Is California always this warm?" Flack asked, winding the window down.

"We usually have mild winters," Taylor shrugged. "But we are just above the border of Mexico."

They pulled into the parking lot of a small building.

"Do you want me to wait outside?" Flack asked, watching Taylor stare at the big black door.

Taylor shook her head. "No, I'd rather… will you come in with me?"

"Sure," he agreed, before following her lead and exiting the car.

The secretary buzzed through to the attorney as soon as they introduced themselves, and they were quickly ushered into his office. "Ms. Turner," smiled the attorney, shaking her hand. "So glad that you made it.

"Can't say that I had much choice," Taylor muttered dryly as she took a seat opposite Bernstein. "This is my boyfriend, Detective Don Flack," she introduced Flack as he took a seat next to her.

"My client-"

"Please," sighed Taylor. "Call him Chris."

"Very well," he nodded. "Chris has requested this meeting to discuss your automobile situation."

"I don't have a situation. I don't have an automobile," Taylor frowned, growing increasingly confused.

"Precisely," Bernstein agreed. "He wishes you to have his." He glanced down at one of the documents in front of him. "His "67 Pontiac GTO."

Taylor's jaw dropped. "He wants me to have Maggie?" she cried incredulously. "Are you having serious?"

"I'm afraid I'm quite serious," he told her. Bernstein pulled open one of his draws, pulled something out, and placed it on the far side of desk, just in front of Taylor. It was a black wallet and two sets of car keys.

Taylor sat back in her chair and ran her hands through her hair as she stared in disbelief at the keys. "He can't expect me to accept that offer after he's returned every letter I've ever sent him, refuses to see me and with no explanation.

Bernstein nodded. "He said you would say that. Which is why he has agreed to a visitation today at 2pm." He pulled out a yellow slip of paper from the folder in front of him and placed it over the folder.

"And if I refuse?" Taylor asked, staring at the visitation document.

"Chris also said that you would say that, but I wasn't to worry because your curiosity would get the better of you."

"Chris said that?" asked Taylor, taking a swipe at Flack, who was smirking at her. Bernstein nodded. "I am going to kill him," Taylor muttered under her breath as she gathered up the various items Bernstein had presented to her, and stalked out of the building.

"Taylor?" Flack called, hurrying after her.

"I'm fine, Don," she snapped at him, walking straight past the car, across the road and to the view point opposite, and stood, staring out at the empty beach.

"Do you miss the ocean?" Flack asked her, leaning against the wooden fence next to her.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "I shouldn't take it out on you."

"Who else are you going to vent it on?"

Taylor smiled and glanced down at her watch. "You want to go grab a drink, or something? We still have a few hours to kill."

. . .

"Tell me again why Chris is in prison," Flack asked as he watched Taylor stir her spoon around a, now cold, cup of hot chocolate.

Taylor dropped the spoon and stared out of the window. "He had just returned home from somewhere in Asia, and was at a bar with his girlfriend, celebrating. Some guys started harassing her, and it carried on outside. It was two on one, Don, and one of them had a knife. But he stood his ground and knocked them both out. Only one of them never got up. The DA pressed for Murder Two, but Chris admitted to manslaughter and the judge threw the book at him - wanted to make an example."

"Have you appealed?"

"Dad has tried to pull as many strings as he could, but so far, nothing. Actually, that's not true. He was sent down with no chance of parole, but I think Dad has managed to get him up for it sometime next spring."

"That's some good news, then?"

Taylor sighed. "He shouldn't be in there in the first place." The sigh turned into a groan as she dropped her head into her hands. "Okay, so he did kill someone, but... now I'm just going around in circles. It's just so frustrating."

Flack reached over and patted her gently on the head, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she told him with a sad smile as she lifted her head. "But thank you." She glanced down at her watch and frowned. "We should probably get going."

. . .

Taylor had come to the conclusion a long time ago that prison was the last place she ever wanted to go, especially after seeing the one Chris was in. Alright, so it wasn't like it was the worst place to be, but just from the outside of the place, the armed guards patrolling the area were enough to give her the shivers.

Leaving Flack outside chatting amiably with one of the guards, she went in, signed all the relevant documentation, allowed the guards to search her and surrendered all the items they wouldn't let her enter with. Eventually, she was led into the visitation room where she spotted her brother instantly.

There were only four years between Taylor and her brother, but it had never seemed that big of an age gap. Although he had obviously been keeping in shape, now, that age gap seemed to have grown and her brother now seemed a lot older, Taylor realised as she sat down opposite of him. "Hi Taylor," he said brightly. "How are things?"

Taylor glared at him, "I don't know. Maybe if you read a letter every now and again, you'd know, rather than sending them back unopened."

"I was doing it to protect you," he told her with a pained expression.

"Protect me from what, Chris?" Taylor snapped at him. "If you had any idea what I have been doing this past year, you would know that the things I need protecting from are things you can't even see."

"What does that mean, Tay?"

"No," said Taylor, shaking her head at him. "You aren't going to get anything out of me until I know why you sent me a letter out of the blue, from your attorney, rather than from yourself, demanding I drop everything to fly to the other side of the country, to give me your most prized possession."

"Things change, Taylor," he sighed.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"I needed the money."

Taylor shut her eyes with a groan. "What have you gotten yourself into in here?"

"Nothing," Chris insisted.

Taylor opened her eyes and stared at him. "Uh huh?"

"No, really," he took a deep breath. "I needed the money to pay for child support."

"Who the hell have you managed to get pregnant in this place?"

Chris managed a small laugh. "No, not in here. It's Megan."

"Megan? As in that stupid-"

"Yeah," he told her quickly, before she could launch into the tirade of expletives aimed at his ex, she was about to. "I have a daughter."

Taylor frowned. "But she would have to be at least six," she told him with a frown as she tried to do the math.

"Six years and four months," Chris agreed.

Taylor slumped back in her chair. "Oh."

"I found out a few weeks ago. Megan came in with her. She's beautiful, Taylor. She has my hair and smile, and Megan's eyes."

"And you want me to buy Maggie off you?"

Chris smiled and shook his head. "Dad already bought her for you. He said you'd told him that you were after a car a while back, and when I told him that I needed the money: it was the perfect solution."

"Chris, how do you expect me to get her back to New York?"

Chris looked at her like she was stupid. "Um, Tay, wake up those Nancy Drew genes for me. She's a car. Drive her."

"I get that, doofas," she rolled her eyes at him. "It's forty years old. Is it going to make it?"

"I practically rebuilt that engine from scratch. She'll get you there and back ten times over, and you helped me, so if anything does go wrong, you'll have an idea of what to do. And if that wasn't enough, Dad has already signed you up with AAA."

Taylor rubbed her temples. "This is why you didn't buy me a return ticket."

Chris shrugged, "I figured you wouldn't say no once I eventually got you out here. I know how much you don't like flying. Just do me a favour, send Maddy a plane ticket and get her to drive back with you. I don't want you doing it alone."

"Maddy's dead," Taylor told him shortly.

Chris looked mortified. "What?"

"Yeah, but you'd know that if you'd stayed in touch," Taylor told him, not feeling the slightest bit guilty for the bitter hint to her tone.

"Oh, Taylor, I'm sorry."

Taylor shrugged. "For what? Maddy dying or for not writing?"

"Taylor, that's not fair."

"Fair?" Taylor scoffed. "Don't even start on a fairness lecture, Chris, because you can't win."

Chris nodded. "You're right."

Taylor stared at him, chewing on her lip. "Fine, I'll take her. But you can't go back to pretending I don't exist. Because next time, I'm not flying out here."

"Deal."

. . .

"How did it go?" Flack asked her a while later when she returned.

"I have a car," she sighed.

"Um, I don't think a car is going to fit into the luggage hold of a plane."

"Nope, probably not. Which is why I'm going to drive her back."

Flack stared at her. "That's about three thousand miles."

"Yup," Taylor agreed, taking the car keys of him as they neared the rental.

"And Alex will let you take the time off work?"

Taylor shrugged. "I'm not going to ask for it off. I brought my lap top with me, and I can write in the evening from whatever motel I'm in and email it to him. I don't have to be in New York to write it. And if I need any information, I can hook my phone up to my laptop: instant internet."

"You're serious, aren't you?" Flack asked, almost rhetorically as he regarded her.

Taylor shrugged. "I've always wanted to drive across the country."

"Then I'm coming with you."

"Don, you've been back at work for two months. Not even that if we just talk about how long you've been back in the field. Your chief is understanding, but I don't think he's _that_ understanding."

"You don't want me to come?" Flack asked.

"Of course I want you to come. I just don't want you to lose your job to do so."

"Let me talk to him. I'm still owed holidays, and I'm not due back until next week anyway. Besides, I'm not letting you drive all the way back across the country by yourself. If worst comes to the worst, I'll drive with you for a week, fly back from wherever we are, and send Danny out to go the rest of the way."

Taylor arched an eyebrow at him. "Danny?"

"It was the first name that popped into my head," Flack shrugged.

Taylor laughed at him. "Alright. Well, let's go introduce you to Maggie."

"Why do you call the car Maggie?"

. . .

"That's why," Taylor told him, pointing to the licence plate.

"MAG 413," Flack read.

"Maggie." Taylor pulled the rest of the tarp off the car, revealing a '67 GTO Fathom Blue four door coupe in pristine condition.

Flack let out a low whistle. "Nice. But is it going to make it across the country?"

Taylor unlocked the door and popped the hood. The engine, she was pleased to see, was in just an immaculate condition as the rest of the car was. "This baby will do it." Her brother had been right, and thanks to him, she knew exactly how to look after the car, as well as service it if need be.

"You sure?" he asked her dubiously.

"I spent hours in our garage with Chris as he restored this. I know her almost as well as he does."

"I hope you're right," Flack muttered as he watched Taylor tinker under the hood.


	96. The Original Sin City

_22/09/2006_

**Chapter 95: The Original Sin City**

By that evening, they had said goodbye to Taylor's mother (who had told Taylor that Flack had her approval and she was to do her best not to lose this one), returned their rental to the airport and hit the highway. Flack had somehow managed to get a further two weeks off, but if they weren't back by then, he had also convinced (without much difficulty) Marty to fly out and join Taylor if needed.

"Why don't you let me drive," Flack suggested as they left the rental return and headed for the car.

Wearily, Taylor nodded. "Just drive until you're tired. We'll find a motel wherever we are. Just head north until you hit I-10, and then head east on that."

Flack smiled at her and watched as she plugged her iPod into the stereo. "I see your brother upgraded the stereo."

Taylor grinned. "It was the only thing he insisted on changing. He said that he had to be able to play his CD's when driving. Thankfully, the stereo he chose had an auxiliary-out cable, so I get to use my iPod." With a yawn, she selected some Matchbox Twenty, and settled back. Within minutes, she was asleep.

An hour later, the I-10 exit appeared. Flack watched as he drove past it, smiling to himself.

. . .

Nearly four hours later and Flack was getting bored. He had been driving in the middle of nowhere of the Mojave Desert for a while now, with nothing but oncoming headlights, and the occasional tumbleweed for company. Finally, they crossed the brink of a hill and he could see down into the valley at the brightly lit city in front of him. With a smile, he prodded Taylor. She grunted and turned over. "Wake up, Taylor," he said, prodding her again.

"I'm awake," she yawned, stretching. "Where are we?"

"On I-15."

"I-15! Flack, that's miles off track," she cried, sitting up and grabbing the map. "We need to be heading east, not north."

"No, we're going in the right direction."

"We'll be hitting Las Vegas soon!"

"Exactly," Flack agreed, pointing out of the window in front of them.

Taylor dropped the map. "Why are we going to Vegas?"

"Taylor, shut up, and enjoy the moment."

Taylor gaped at him before sitting back and watching the city increase in size as they neared it. "Have you ever been to Las Vegas before?" she asked Flack as she peered out of the window.

Taking his exit, Flack shook his head. "No. You?"

"No," Taylor replied, as her fidgeting increased with her excitement. "Are we staying the night?"

"Three," Flack informed her, before laughing at her excited squeal.

"Where are we staying?" Taylor gushed as they turned onto Las Vegas Boulevard, better known as The Strip.

"Just sit back and relax, Taylor. It's a surprise."

Still fidgeting like a small child, Taylor reached for her camera, rolled down the window and began taking photos: Mandalay Bay, Luxor, Excalibur.

"Oh, wow!" Taylor exclaimed as she stared at the bright green MGM Grand which had come up on her right. And then it moved away as they pulled into the hotel opposite, "New York, New York?" Taylor was a little surprised at his choice as he pulled in.

Flack let out a loud laugh and carried on driving through, turning back onto The Strip. "Taylor, after flying across the country, do you really think I'm going to have us stay in New York, New York?"

Taylor shrugged, "I don't know."

"I love the city too much."

Taylor smiled as they carried on up The Strip. And then they pulled into Caesars Palace. Taylor's mouth was still hanging open as the valet opened her door. "Welcome to Caesars Palace."

Taylor followed Flack into the reception area, staring up in awe at the room. It was enormous with elegant columns and Sistine Chapel-style paintings on the ceilings, and marble statues galore.

"How can we afford this place?" Taylor gasped as Flack returned with the key, bellboy in tow.

"It's my treat, Taylor," Flack told her firmly.

"But this place has got to be at least $500 a night," Taylor gasped, feeling a little faint.

Flack shrugged. "Alright, so technically, I'm not paying either."

"Huh?"

"The NYPD held a charity ball for the millennium, with a raffle. First prize was an all expenses paid world cruise. Second was a three night stay here."

"And you won it?"

Flack nodded. "Believe it or not, it was a bet with Aiden and Danny."

In front of them, the bellboy opened the door to their room. "Would you like reservations for _Spago_?"

Flack nodded and made the arrangements whilst Taylor explored the room, still feeling like a small child who's Christmas had come early. She headed out onto the balcony and stared across at the Imperial Palace. A few minutes later, Flack came out and joined her. "Happy birthday," he murmured into her hair as his arms wrapped around her.

Taylor turned around so that she was facing him. "My birthday?"

Flack shrugged. "Let's be fair, you had a pretty lousy one. And as you don't seem to celebrate it on the right day anyway, what does it matter if it's a couple of days late?"

Taylor grinned up at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I feel pretty lousy considering how your birthday turned out."

"I spent it with you – that was enough." He frowned, "Although, next year, please don't cook again."

"Shuddup," Taylor told him as she brought her lips to his.

. . .

Wrapped in a towel, Taylor was pulling her clothes out of her bag, trying to find something to wear. She had narrowed it down to black pants and a smart top, a red dress, or a black skirt and a smart top. "What do you think?" she asked Flack.

"The red dress," he told her without hesitation.

"Gee, give it a moment to actually look at the other options," she told him, pulling the red dress up.

"I don't need to."

Taylor arched an eyebrow. "Is there something I should know?"

"Wearing red drives me crazy," Flack told her.

Taylor laughed. "Well, that's something to remember."

Flack got up and walked over to her, running his hands through her still damp hair. "And wear your hair curly."

"You have a thing for curls as well?"

"Damn straight. I can't understand why you want to hide them all the time with those straightening things."

Taylor just shook her head in amusement as she headed to the vanity unit to put some make-up on and fix her hair.

. . .

"I still can't believe we're in Vegas," Taylor muttered as she sat back. They had just finished their meal and were listening to the music filter through the restaurant.

"You like it, then?"

Taylor nodded. "You have no idea."

Flack smiled. "Good. Because I'm not done yet."

Taylor's eyes widened. "What else have you got in store?"

Flack's grin grew. "Well, complementary tickets to Celine Dion were included, but," he added seeing Taylor trying to hide a grimace. "I exchanged them for VIP tickets to the Pussycat Doll Lounge."

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "You don't have to. We can see Celine if you want."

"Taylor, the Pussycat Doll Lounge has women dancing around in fishnets to rock music. And besides, the group, the Pussycat Dolls, they're performing live tonight."

Taylor laughed. "Thank goodness for that. Not that I hate Celine – but," she shivered.

"But what?"

Taylor sighed. "It reminds me of the day the paper blew… when I found you, all I could hear was Smith's music…"

Flack reached over and squeezed her hand. "That's in the past," he smiled reassuringly at her. "And tomorrow," he said, changing the subject. "We're going to the Grand Canyon."

Taylor's mouth dropped open again. It seemed like it was going to be a regular occurrence whilst they were in Vegas.

"Now, I hope you have your dancing shoes on?" Flack asked a while later after he had paid the bill (ignoring Taylor who was trying to insist that she at least pay for that, considering he seemed to be covering everything else).

Taylor nodded and the two of them headed to the Lounge, where they bypassed the line and headed straight to the VIP lounge and the complimentary champagne.

By the small hours of the morning, Taylor's feet were aching from dancing too much, her voice was hoarse from singing along to the Pussycat Dolls, (they had managed to have their photographs taken with them) and she was feeling exceptionally light headed from all the champagne. But she was also feeling more relaxed and a lot happier than she had done in months. "I feel like I'm a princess or something," Taylor sighed as she sat on the edge of their bed and pulled her shoes off, rubbing at her aching feet. "Thank you."

Flack sat down next to her, before lying backwards, "I met the Pussycat Dolls," he grinned.

"Are you kidding me?" Taylor laughed. "You were about three minutes away from getting one of their numbers."

Flack sighed. "In hindsight, I probably should have taken her up on her offer."

Taylor shrugged. "It's not too late if you want to head back down there," she told him nonchalantly.

"Don't pretend you weren't insanely jealous."

"I wasn't jealous!" Taylor protested.

"Yeah you were," Flack grinned.

"No I wasn't… alright, maybe just a little bit."

"Just a little bit?"

"Fine," Taylor admitted, "I was insanely jealous."

Flack grinned, "I knew it." He reached over and grabbed her hand, pulling her down beside him.


	97. Castenelli Heights

_26/09/2006_

**Chapter 96: Castenelli Heights**

Taylor awoke the following morning wrapped up in Flack's arms, the sunlight filtering through the room's partially closed blinds, to someone knocking on the door. She slipped out of Flack's arms, pulled the shirt on he had worn the previous evening and opened the door. It was room service with breakfast. Taylor pulled off the silver lid to the tray and smiled: a full breakfast, minus bacon. She padded over to the bed and prodded Flack's side. "Breakfast." The promise of food didn't take long to get Flack out from the bed.

A couple of hours later and Taylor was driving them out of Vegas and past Henderson, into the mountains which bordered the city. "It still amazes me how we can be in the middle of a desert yet climbing up into the mountains," Flack muttered as he stared in amazement at the mountainous scenery.

Taylor just smiled following the road up, until eventually they broke the summit in Boulder City. As they began to descend, Lake Mead came into view – a beautiful crystal clear blue. Taylor pulled over and leapt out of the car and across the road, staring down at the view below her. "It's so beautiful," she breathed as Flack joined her.

"Would you like me to take a picture of you two?" An elderly woman asked, watching the two of them.

Flack smiled and handed her the camera he had been carrying. Ten minutes later, they had a dozen pictures – the woman was a surprisingly good photographer – and they were back on their way, heading down the steep, winding road, towards the Hoover Dam with the windows open.

The traffic had slowed to a crawl as they crossed the Dam, before pulling into a parking lot. "We can't just drive across this and not stop," Taylor told Flack as he followed her down to the Dam.

The two walked to the centre of the Dam, peering out to the lake side. "I can't believe how excited you are over a dam," Flack muttered.

"This is one of the unofficial Seven Wonders of the World, Flack. But that's not why I'm excited."

"Why are you excited, then?" Flack asked her warily, taking in her mischievous grin.

Taylor pointed down at her feet. "Because I'm in two places at once." Her left foot was on the Nevada side of the marker, and her right on the Arizona side.

"Have I ever told you that you are a complete geek?" Flack asked, although he couldn't help grinning at her.

"Many a time," Taylor nodded.

"Come on, we still have a good three hours driving."

"Hang on!" Taylor exclaimed, pulling him towards the Nevada side of the Dam.

"What are we doing?"

Taylor just grinned and headed for the water fountain. Once she had had a few mouthfuls, she headed back to the Arizona side, where the car was, but stopped at the water fountain there.

"Taylor, what are you doing?" Flack asked, curious.

"Seeing which state has the better water."

Flack groaned at her.

A couple of hours later and they were on their way, Taylor trying to keep their speed to something which registered as barely legal. It wasn't until they breeched one of the hills and saw a state trooper sat in the central reservation, that Taylor admitted she was wrong: Flack had been telling her how she was going to get a speeding ticket if she wasn't careful, but she had been insisting that why would a SHP car be sat in the middle of nowhere.

After a small detour along Route 66, they finally arrived at the National Park. "Where to, mon capitaine?" Taylor asked Flack, with a salute.

Flack rolled his eyes and consulted the map they had been given. We want to head this way," he told her, pointing up the road. This way led them to a bus, which in turn, led them to a parking lot. Taylor pulled over and the two got out of the car. At which point, Flack pulled out a very large hamper from the trunk.

"When on earth did you sort that out?" Taylor asked with an excited squeal.

"Ask no questions, get told no lies," Flack told her mysteriously as he led her to a secluded spot over the canyon and spread a blanket out. "Just in time for the sunset."

"We have hours before it sets," Taylor laughed, sitting down next to him. "You're a bit of a closet romantic, aren't you?"

Flack grinned sheepishly. "You'd better not let that one out. I have a reputation, you know."

"Okay, Mr-bad-ass detective." She reached for the potato chips and began nibbling. "Thank you," she told him seriously.

"It's just a picnic," he shrugged.

"No, not just for this, but for everything: for coming out with me in the first place, for charming my mother, for driving back with me. It means a lot."

"Well, there is a slight alternative motive to this," he told her.

"Ah, I knew there was a catch," Taylor grinned at him.

"Would you mind if we called in to see my sister? Only I haven't seen her since she came back home three years ago. I have a niece and nephew I've never seen, and I kinda promised her I'd visit her at some point."

"Of course," Taylor shrugged, "I wouldn't mind meeting her." She frowned. "Where does she live?"

"Baton Rouge."

"Louisiana?"

Flack nodded. "It's not completely out of the way. But if you don't think the car can make it-"

"The car will make it, Don. Don't worry about that. And I don't mind at all."

The two of them finished their picnic, had a walk around, before watching the sunset. After making their way back to the car in the pitch black, they drove back to their hotel, where, exhausted, they collapsed into bed.

. . .

Taylor practically floated back up to the room. She'd had a fantastic day. The morning, they had walked up and down the strip, even visiting New York, New York and riding the rollercoaster, stopping in all the major casinos, before heading back to Caesars Palace for what Taylor could only describe as star treatment. The prize Flack had won had included a free evening dress and suit for the couple, as well as an afternoon in the spa.

So Taylor had had to 'endure' men and women waiting on her hand and foot in Christian Dior as they presented her with dress after dress. In the end, she had allowed Flack to pick the dress. That being said, she knew it was going to be the red one the moment she laid eyes on it. A red cocktail dress with off-shoulder capped sleeves and low cut V-neck bodice. The A-line, mid-length skirt and body were covered in dainty sequin embellishments… it had been the only red option.

The spa was just as heavenly. Massage, facial, manicure, pedicure, as well as having her hair and make-up done for her. All in all, she hadn't felt this pampered since… well, ever. The closest was when she won her award, but there had been no massage included in that deal.

She returned to the room feeling like a princess. Flicking on the television, she half watched an episode of The Simpsons as she put her dress on, and then waited patiently for Flack to appear.

And when he did, he was carrying a bunch of flowers – red roses. "Taylor… wow. You look… wow."

"You're not looking so bad yourself there," Taylor told him. He had already changed into his suit (courtesy of Christian Dior) and looked simply gorgeous. Taylor wasn't sure if it was because she'd grown up around the navy, but there was something about a man in a suit or uniform.

Flack glanced at his watch. "We should leave – we have reservations."

"Should I even ask?" Taylor asked.

Flack shook his head with a grin. "Nope, just enjoy the surprise."

Half an hour later, after exiting the limo (another moment where Taylor's mouth had dropped open in surprise) they were waiting in line to go up the elevator to the top of the Stratosphere, to the _Top Of The World_ restaurant.

"I can't believe this," Taylor muttered as they were seated right by the window, Las Vegas twinkling at them in the night sky. They could see right down the Strip where they were. "Thank you so much, Don."

. . .

From across the way, two semi-transparent people were watching them. "Did you know, this place is in the top ten for locations where people propose," said Aiden, watching Taylor and Flack accept their starters.

"He wouldn't!" exclaimed Maddy.

"Personally, I wouldn't have pictured Flack proposing like that," Aiden told her. "But then again, I never pictured him surprising his girlfriend with a weekend in Las Vegas, before driving across the country with her."

"You think he has a ring?" Maddy asked, growing excited.

Aiden sighed patiently. "I may not have pictured him doing the whole romantic getaway, but if there is one thing I know for sure. He won't propose to someone he's been dating for only two months."

Maddy shrugged. "Those two are going to be together. I can feel it in my bones… or maybe I would if I still had them," she grinned.

"I don't think he's bought a ring yet anyway," Aiden said.

"Yeah, well look at Danny. He has, and he's still not proposed."

Aiden smiled, "I'm glad he didn't do the whole Valentine thing. That being said, I'm glad he's finally found someone he can settle down with. I remember a conversation where he swore he wasn't the marrying type."

"He's still not proposed, though," Maddy repeated. "Do you think Lindsay is the one who can tame him?"

"Danny will always be Danny, but I think Lindsay brings out a different side to him: a side which he's surprised to find he likes. And I don't think he's going to want to lose it."

Maddy sighed and folder her arms. "Well, I'm feeling a bit cruel now."

Aiden nodded. "With what's coming up, I do too."

"They'll make it though," Maddy said, more as a statement than as a question.

"I think so," Aiden agreed. "That being said, we have work to be doing soon."

"We? I think you'll find that I'm the only one supposed to be working tonight – you've just tagged along because it's Vegas."

"So sue me," Aiden grinned. "And I don't get why you're getting all protective about this. You're only meeting someone."

Maddy glanced at the clock behind the bar and nodded in agreement. "Castenelli Heights." She frowned. "I really do feel bad – I haven't seen Taylor look this happy in so long."

"Come on," said Aiden, before she disappeared.

"Siento que interrumpiremos sus vacaciones, Taylor. Haga el la mayor parte de esto." She gave the couple one last glance and disappeared, following Aiden.

. . .

"I can't believe that we only have one more day here," Taylor sighed. The two of them were just leaving the Stratosphere, after going to the observation deck and taking photos, as well as hitting the roof for the three rides. On the way out, they had stopped for a little bit of gambling. They weren't overly bothered about it, but as Flack pointed out, you can't not come to Vegas and not gamble. The result was Flack won a few hundred dollars at Blackjack.

Currently, they were walking hand in hand back down the Strip to their hotel, after deciding that they wanted to see the city all lit up. "That's the newest Casino," said Taylor, pointing to the Castenelli Heights, which they were just about to walk in front of. It was the tallest hotel in Vegas, surpassing even the Stratosphere, but what made it stand out was the fact that the front of the building was designed to look like a giant waterfall – the water actually cascaded down over eleven hundred feet into a pool above the entrance.

Taylor stopped and glanced up to the top. It was really high. The wind was blowing the water in a fine mist to the left hand side of the building. She followed the mist down to ground level before her eyes settled on two familiar figures, and a new one. "You have got to be kidding me," she groaned.

"What's the matter?" Flack asked, before his eyes finally found the two ghosts. "Oh."

"Give me a break…" she trailed off when she noticed them looking up. Slowly, Taylor cast her eyes upwards, and instantly regretted it. Plummeting towards the ground was a person, screaming helplessly. The screams came to an abrupt end as his body hit the floor with a dull thud, only metres from where they were standing.

Seconds later there were screams as people realised what had happened.

Taylor looked up, noticed what looked like someone on the roof, before turning around and emptying her stomach of the very expensive meal they had just eaten.


	98. I Am Not A Psychic

_29/09/2006_

**Chapter 97: I Am Not A Psychic**

Catherine Willows, second in command of the night shift at the Las Vegas Crime lab, grabbed her kit from the back of her company issued Yukon and shut the door, before heading over to yellow crime scene tape.

"Evening, Catherine," Sofia Curtis greeted her, holding up the tape for her to step under. "Nick and Greg are already here." She indicated over to two men, one blonde, one brunette, who were busy examining what was once a body (falling thirteen hundred feet of a building rarely leaves a body looking like a body).

"Do we have an ID?" Catherine asked.

"No wallet or money on him," Sofia told her.

"Any witnesses?"

Sofia glanced down at her notebook. "So far, I've spoken to eleven people. One claims he was climbing the wall of the hotel and slipped, another claims he was pushed by Elvis, another claims to have witnessed aliens drop his body off," Sofia sighed. "It goes on."

Catherine turned and surveyed the crowds. "Why watch television when the real thing is much more entertaining," she muttered, sounding almost bitter. Her eyes stopped on a tall man with dark hair, who was standing with a woman with her hair falling in loose curls down her back. It wasn't the woman's red dress, or his suit that caught her attention, it was an evening in Vegas, after all. It was the fact that they were standing to one side, barely paying attention to what was happening around them, and they looked like, or rather, the woman looked like, she was talking to a third person… who wasn't there.

With a frown, she set her kit down. "What seems wrong with that picture?" she asked Sofia, before walking over. Sofia looked in the direction Catherine was heading, worked out what she was talking about, and followed.

"Excuse me," said Catherine, interrupting the pair, who had turned their attention upwards.

. . .

Taylor had her arms wrapped around her waist as she faced Maddy and Aiden, still feeling her stomach gurgling around her. "We're not in New York anymore," she muttered.

"I think the phrase is, we're not in Kansas anymore," Maddy corrected her.

"I know perfectly well what the phrase is, Madeline," Taylor snapped. "The point is, why the hell are ghosts following me around the country?"

"Don't blame us," Aiden told her. "It's not up to us."

Taylor glared at her before muttering darkly about how she knew exactly who was at fault, and what she'd like to do to them.

"Well," said Maddy. "Remind me not to get on the wrong side of you."

One of the new ghosts cleared her throat. Taylor turned, a little surprised, at the two new ghosts. There was a male… well, it was the guy who had fallen from the building, although he wasn't looking much like anything at that moment, and a female – the one who had coughed.

"Taylor, this is Holly," introduced Maddy.

"Since when have you ever known who the ghost is until I find out? And for that matter, why is there a fourth ghost? Or is this one of these cases where I'm going to be running in circles because there are actually two cases?"

Holly turned to Maddy. "She talks too much."

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "Who the hell are you?"

"Holly Gribbs," Holly repeated in a professional tone. "I'm your Vegas liaison."

"Come again?" Taylor asked, turning to the familiar ghosts for an explanation.

Maddy shrugged. "We're not the only ghosts in the world. And we're certainly not the only ones who have to do this job."

"And on that note, I think it is time you two left," Holly told Maddy and Aiden.

"We've got to go," smiled Maddy. "But don't worry. Holly has been doing this a lot longer than either of us."

Maddy and Aiden vanished leaving Taylor with an impatient looking replacement, a human pancake, and a very bewildered looking boyfriend. "Las Vegas liaison?" Taylor repeated, staring at the dead woman. She was wearing a white and gold suit, just like Maddy and Aiden, although, unlike Aiden's hers was still immaculate. She had curly, chin-length brown hair, and hazel eyes, and a been-there, done-that expression.

"Save him," the fourth ghost piped up. He was… to put it nicely, really not a pretty sighed – barely looking human… something which Taylor was not appreciating.

"Who is _him_?" Taylor asked.

The ghost pointed upwards… well, tried to, but his hand flopped miserably around, leaving a bloody, bone-protruding stub pointing upwards instead.

Taylor's stomach gurgled further. "Give me a break," she muttered, looking upwards.

"Excuse me."

Taylor and Flack turned to find a woman, easily in her late thirties with red hair, and a very stylish appearance, staring intently at them. Just behind her was another female detective with long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. "Hi," said Taylor, still silently cursing Maddy and Aiden.

"Who are you?" the woman asked them.

Flack shot Taylor a look as he pulled out his ID and held it open for them to see. "Detective Don Flack, homicide detective with the NYPD. This is Taylor Turner."

At the sight of a badge, the two Nevadan criminalists expressions softened. "Sofia Curtis, Vegas homicide. This is Catherine Willows with the Las Vegas Crime Lab," she said, introducing the two of them. She pulled out her radio, "I'm going to have to confirm you are who you say you are."

Flack nodded and reeled off a number. "That's the number of my chief."

Taylor rolled her eyes and reeled of another number. "And that's the number of Detective Mac Taylor. He's a supervisor at the New York Crime Lab. Unlike Don's chief, he's more likely to be at the lab at this hour."

Sofia gave a small smirk. "Sounds familiar," she muttered, before replacing her radio for her phone and dialling the number Taylor had given her, taking Flack's ID with her.

"Did you see anything?" Catherine asked, with a small smile, noticing the comment which was clearly aimed at her supervisor.

"Vic fell from the roof," Flack told him. "10:08 by my watch."

"He was pushed," Taylor corrected him.

Catherine pursed his lips. "You saw someone push him?"

Taylor winced and closed her eyes. "Alright, this is going to sound really crazy."

"Taylor," Flack muttered in a warning tone.

Taylor turned her attention to Flack, "How else am I going to be able to help? Besides, the ghost appeared here for a reason – so surely it's because I'm expec-"

"It's been nearly a year, and Mac and Lindsay still don't believe you," said Flack, cutting her off.

"But everyone else does!" Taylor insisted.

Flack sighed patiently. "And how long did it take for me to believe?"

"Too damn long," Taylor told him. "But you believe me now."

"The point is, nobody believed you at first, Taylor, so why go through all of this again?"

"Marty believed me."

Flack scowled. "Oh, of course Marty believed you."

"What the hell does that mean?" Taylor demanded, her eyes narrowing.

"Nothing," Flack said.

"It's clearly not nothing, or else you wouldn't have brought it up."

"Just drop it, Taylor. It's not important. And it's not the point," he argued. The two were oblivious to the fact that they had gained several other observers.

"Then what is the point?" Taylor glared at him, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Ghosts, Taylor. _Ghosts_."

"Ghost?" came a new voice.

Taylor shook her head, realising where they were arguing and turned to a tall, young man, with sandy blonde hair, who was wearing a LVPD crime lab vest – the name Sanders on it. "Alright, this sounds crazy, I know, but I see ghosts."

"Like the Sixth Sense, see ghosts?" asked the final newcomer, a thick Texan accent, and a crime lab vest adorned with the name Stokes.

Flack sighed, "I _know_ this sounds crazy. Hell, I didn't believe it at first, but she has helped solve several crimes back in New York."

"Another psychic?" muttered Stokes darkly, before turning and leaving, heading back to the body.

Sanders watched him leave before speaking, "I believe you."

Both Taylor and Flack's mouths dropped open. "Say what?" asked Taylor.

"Greg here believes he has an expertise in the occult," Catherine explained. "His Nana Olaf was-"

"Is," Greg corrected, "Nana Olaf _is_ a psychic."

Catherine nodded. "And Greg's family seem to think Greg has inherited this."

"You remembered?" Greg seemed a little shock, barely noting the light mocking tone in Catherine's voice.

"I'm not a psychic," Taylor interrupted. "I just get visits from ghosts who need help before they can move on – usually because they have died in suspicious circumstances."

Catherine frowned. "You flew all the way over from New York to help on a case?"

Flack shook his head. "We're on a vacation, actually. Transporting a car from San Diego to New York, but I won a raffle a few years back for a few nights in Caesars Palace, so we made a little detour here."

"Do I look like I'm dressed to be helping on a case?" Taylor asked, indicating to the length of her dress.

Catherine, noticing Greg staring, cleared her throat. "Who said anything about helping on a case?"

"We don't want to interfere in your case," Flack assured her. "No questioning or processing. We just want to observe, maybe offer some information if we can help."

Greg turned to his supervisor. "Didn't you have a psychic help out a few years back," he frowned. "The stalker – remember, he saved Nick… oh…" Greg trailed off.

Catherine pursed her lips. "And where is that psychic now?" she asked Greg.

"I'm not a psychic!" Taylor insisted. "I can't see the future. I can't tell you exactly what happened to the victims. They just appear, giving some of the most ambiguous clues imaginable, and I have to try to translate them."

Catherine looked from Taylor to Flack. "As a member of the NYPD," she said, addressing Flack. "I'm sure you can appreciate that it's not procedure to have unsolicited help," she glanced at Taylor before turning her attention to back to Flack. "It's not worth my job to bring you into this. However, we will need to take your statements, so Greg?" Barely staying long enough to make sure Greg agreed with her command, she turned and joined Nick at the body.

Greg sighed. "Look, the last psychic ended up dead," he told them, with a frown. "Actually, the last two psychics we encountered are dead, but the second one was a victim and wasn't actually a…" he trailed off after catching sight of the expression on Flack's face.

"I. Am. Not. A. Psychic." Taylor told him through gritted teeth.

Greg shrugged. "A psychic is someone who can see things others can't – whether that be the future or spirits."

Taylor frowned. When put that way..? She shook her head. "Never mind," she muttered.

"Look, I believe you, I really do, but Cath… I'm sorry. Anyway, I need to finish helping at the scene. Can you come to the Crime Lab? I can make sure someone takes your statement there," he handed over a business card before turning to leave.

"Greg?" Taylor called after him. Greg stopped and turned, looking at her expectantly. "I think you might find something useful on the roof."

Greg nodded. "It's my next stop.

Flack watched Greg leave and turned his attention back to Taylor. "Well that went as expected."

Taylor shrugged. "If I'd have given up with you and Mac, we wouldn't be here."

"Well, I might not be, but you might be," Flack frowned. "Are you saying that you and Stokes would be hooking up?"

"Stokes?"

Flack pointed over at the Texan, who was busy placing a small green cone next to something on the ground. "He had a similar reaction to mine… or at least, that's what I would have liked to have done."

"You're a doofas," Taylor told him, rolling her eyes


	99. A Knack For Getting Involved

_05/10/2006_

**Chapter 98: A Knack For Getting Involved**

The best part of two hours later (the traffic on the Strip was horrendous) changed into a pair of black combats and a indigo off-the-shoulder sweater, Taylor and Flack, now in dark jeans and a button down shirt, were standing in the reception of the Las Vegas Crime Lab waiting for Greg to return from the Crime Scene. Sitting in a barely comfortable plastic chair, Taylor leant her head back against the wall. "Sorry, Don."

Flack looked over at her. "What are you apologising for?"

"Ruining your vacation."

"How do you work that one out?" Flack asked, cocking his head.

"Casper."

"Casper?" he repeated.

Taylor frowned. Since when had she started calling them Casper's? "Sorry, that's Maddy and Aiden. I mean the ghost."

Flack shrugged, "I've told you before, everyone has ghosts. Yours just happen to be actual spirits."

Taylor pulled her head away from the wall, sitting in a more upright position to smile at Flack. "Have I told you how fantastic you are?"

"Not recently, but please continue. My ego could do with a boost."

"Doofas," Taylor laughed.

"Detective Flack and Taylor Turner?"

Taylor looked up to find a man with brown hair, greying around the temples, a beard and glasses waiting patiently in front of them, a manila folder in his hand. "Taylor," she told her, holding her hand up.

"I'm Gil Grissom. I'm joining Catherine on the case. She's asked if I could ask you some questions."

Taylor nodded. "No problem."

Grissom smiled, "Ms. Turner, could you follow me?"

"Taylor's fine," she told him as she followed Grissom into an interview room and took a seat opposite him. Thirty minutes later, Grissom had finished collecting Taylor's statement, and was clearly having trouble processing some of Taylor's 'details'.

"You say the victim's ghost appeared and pointed to the roof?" Taylor nodded patiently. "And this ghost was accompanied by two other ghosts. The ghost of a friend, and the ghost of a former NYPD CSI?"

Taylor nodded again, "Maddy helps the victim's spirits, and Aiden tends to protect me from malicious spirits," she frowned. "Actually, I'm not sure why Aiden was there, but she was."

"Right," said Grissom very slowly, clearly under the impression that Taylor was a few books short of a library.

"I know it seems strange, and trust me, I have had this conversation far too many times to keep count, so I can appreciate the fact you don't believe me. _I_ wouldn't believe me in your position," Taylor frowned. "But this practice has led me to the conclusion that you'll believe me sooner or later… although I do hope it is sooner, rather than later," she mused.

Grissom frowned. "Alright, well, we'll be in touch if we need anything else."

Taylor left the room and headed back to the reception, accompanied by Grissom, who had returned to collect Flack. As the two of them disappeared, and Taylor took a seat to wait for them, Catherine, Greg, Nick and Sofia appeared, accompanied by two officers who had a man in handcuffs between them.

Whilst Sofia, the officers and the arrestee headed off in the direction Grissom and Flack had gone, the other three CSIs walked over to Taylor.

"The roof worked out then?" she asked them.

Nick rolled his eyes. "That didn't take a psychic to work out, did it? I mean, come on! He came from the roof – it was obvious we were going to check up there."

Taylor frowned – he had a very good point.

And then Holly and the victim reappeared. "Save him," she was told as the ghost showed her a picture – a child's drawing of a big stick man labelled Daddy, and a smaller stick man labelled Tristan.

"Who's Tristan?" Taylor asked as the two ghosts disappeared. Barely giving any of the criminalists the chance to tell her they didn't know, Taylor took off after the suspect, quickly catching him up.

"Who's Tristan?" she asked him, as one of the officers grabbed her, pulling her away, back to Catherine, Greg and Nick, who had chased after her.

The suspect's eyes widened. "How do you know about Tristan?"

"The guy you pushed off the building told me to save _him_. Was he talking about Tristan?" she asked again.

"No, I'm not saying anything," the suspect said, shaking his head.

"Miss Turner!" cried Nick, pulling her to one side. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Taylor stared straight at him, meeting his brown eyes. "There is more to this case than you think."

. . .

Flack sat at the large table in disbelief. He didn't have a clue how she did it, but Taylor had this almost annoying knack of being allowed access to information she probably shouldn't be. Annoying because it meant he was more prone to worry about her well-being when she was accepted into cases, regardless of the degree she was accepted.

Currently the two of them were sat in the Vegas Crime Lab's break room, seated at a large table with Grissom, Greg, Nick, Catherine, another woman with shoulder length brown hair and a gap between her two front teeth called Sara, and a black man who had been introduced as Warrick.

Maybe Taylor's talents were wasted on the paper. She certainly had the ability to make a very good undercover cop… _if_ she could learn some self defence and weapons training. Not that he would ever suggest it. No, he didn't think he would be able to cope if he was worrying about her safety in situations with hardened criminals. It was bad enough with the ghosts. Well, at least it was obvious Taylor had no intention whatsoever of leaving the paper.

Pushing these thoughts from his mind, he turned his attention back to Grissom, who was currently filling Warrick and Sara in on what they knew. "…and Leon Orsion was still on the roof, where he confessed to pushing his brother, Geoff Orsion off the roof of the Castenelli Heights Casino Hotel." Grissom handed out various photographs of the crime scene.

"I've got the results back from DNA," said Sara. "The DB is related to our suspect."

"So he wasn't lying," said Nick.

"Not about that," Taylor muttered.

"Alright," said Warrick, "I kind of get why detective Flack is here, but, uh, sorry, but why are you here, Ms. Turner?"

"Please, it's Taylor," Taylor told him.

"Taylor's a psychic," Greg interrupted her.

"I'm not a psychic!" Taylor growled at him. "I am a journalist, and I just happen to see ghosts."

From across the table, Sara started to snigger. "You see ghosts."

With an exasperated sigh, Taylor slammed her head down on the table. "Yes," her voice came out muffled.

"I know it's hard to believe, but she _can_ see ghosts," Flack confirmed.

"Ghosts are irrelevant," said Catherine, brushing the statement aside. "What _is_ relevant is who is Tristan, and why would Leon push his brother off the roof of a building?"

"Well, Leon is not sharing that information with us," Sofia told them as she came in and sat down at the table, throwing a folder on to it. "He's confessing he did it, but as soon as we try and get a why out of him, he clams up, and mentioning Tristan is just making it worse."

"I think I've worked out who Tristan is," said Nick, holding up an evidence bag. Inside it was a picture of Leon with a small boy whose arms were wrapped around his neck. "I think he was his son."

"Where did that come from?" Greg asked.

"Suspect's wallet."

"Geoff's ghosts told me to save him," said Taylor. "And he showed me a child's picture-"

"Ghost?" repeated Sofia.

"Taylor thinks she can see ghosts," said Sara.

"I don't think. I can," Taylor corrected, trying to stay patient. "Anyway, this picture had two stick men labelled daddy and Tristan."

"You know there are no such things as ghosts, don't you," said Sofia.

"There are," said Flack quickly – he had already spotted that Taylor had just about used up all her patience.

"How else could I have found out about Tristan?" she asked.

"That still doesn't help us," said Catherine. "Not if Leon isn't talking."

"Let me talk to him," said Taylor suddenly.

"I don't think that's a very good idea," said Sofia.

Taylor shook her head. "No, not as a cop or a criminalist, as me. Just a chat. Maybe… maybe I can get something out of him."

"It's worth a shot," said Greg.

Taylor shot him a grateful smile and turned to Grissom who was staring at her intently. "You're not going in alone," he said finally.

"Damn straight she's not," said Flack.

Grissom shook his head, "I can't have the two of you in there. If Taylor speaks to him, it's going to be with one of us."

"I'll do it," said Greg.

"Sorry Greg, it's going to be someone higher ranking than you. Catherine?"

"You're going along with this?" Catherine asked in disbelief. Grissom gave a long stare before nodding. Catherine shrugged. "Let's go speak to our suspect."

"Not in an interview room," Taylor blurted out.

"And why not?"

"Do you have any idea how intimidating and uncomfortable those things are?"

. . .

Taylor had convinced Grissom and Catherine to change the location of the 'chat' to a more informal room, and both she and Catherine were seated opposite Leon, with everyone else watching from another room, via a video feed.

"I'm not saying anything," Leon told them stubbornly before he even sat down.

"Leon, I see ghosts," Taylor told him, ignoring his statement, and the laugh that came with it. "You can laugh, but your brother paid me a visit tonight, asking me to save someone. Your son, judging from the picture. Now, I can wait for him to help tell me where he is, but when the ghosts come to me with clues like children's drawings, I'm sure you can appreciate it is going to take a while for me to find Tristan. Alternatively, you could tell us what you know so we can find him sooner, and if he's in as much danger as I suspect he is, we can find him whilst he's still alive." Leon stared defiantly at her. "Okay, then I'll tell these guys that we're looking for a body," Taylor shrugged, getting to her feet.

"They want twenty five thousand for him," Leon told them, his voice cracking.

Taylor stared behind him at Geoff, who had turned up with Holly, holding a few casino chips in his hand. "To pay off gambling debts?" she asked, trying to decipher the clue. "Or a casino worker has him?"

Leon gaped at her. "The last one. How did you…?"

"I told you," Taylor told him, sitting down. "I see ghosts, and your brother wants to help you find him."

"You know who has him?" Catherine interrupted.

Leon nodded, "Gino Castenelli. Or at least he has his men doing the dirty work."

"That's a pretty big accusation," Catherine told him. "Do you have any evidence to back this up?"

"No."

"Why do they have him?" Taylor asked, looking from Leon to his dead brother. "Surely Castenelli is loaded – why does he need the money?"

"He doesn't. But I own some land just behind the Castenelli Heights and he wants it. He wants to build a golf course there."

"So this is blackmail?" Catherine asked, taking notes.

"I don't understand how your brother fits into this," said Taylor, with a frown.

"You thought he had something to do with it?" Catherine asked again, still making notes.

"He works at the Castenelli Heights," Leon shrugged. "I confronted him and he denied it."

"An inside job?"

Taylor looked over at the ghost of Geoff, who was shaking his head mournfully. "I don't think he had anything to do with it," Taylor muttered.

Leon burst into tears, "I didn't mean to kill him. I just wanted to get him to tell me where Tristan is."


	100. Temporary Team Member

_16/03/2007_

**Chapter 99: Temporary Team Member**

"Alright, how did you manage that?" Nick asked as Catherine and Taylor returned to the others.

Taylor shrugged, "I listened to Geoff." She frowned. "Actually, Geoff has only managed to say two words – it's Holly with the mouth on her, but he shows-"

"You mean there is more than one ghost?" Greg asked excitedly.

Taylor nodded, "Normally, I'm helped by my dead friend, Maddy, and an ex-CSI called Aiden. But, as I was informed this evening, they are pretty much stuck with helping me in New York, and I have another ghost here. Holly Gribbs or something?"

"Gribbs?" Warrick asked sharply. All the CSIs gave her a strange look. "Holly Gribbs?" Taylor nodded, wondering if it was possible that they knew her. "That is not a funny trick," Warrick snapped, before storming out of the room.

"Did I miss something?" Flack asked. "Who is Holly Gribbs?"

Catherine shot Taylor a glare before dashing out of the room after Warrick.

"Holly was a CSI who used to work here about six years ago," Sara explained. "She was killed on the job." After dropping that bomb, she stalked out of the room.

Taylor sat down, sinking into one of the now vacated chairs, feeling extremely uncomfortable, even though she knew it wasn't her fault. It was Grissom who sat down next to her, though. "I'm going to ask you something, and I want a truthful answer." Taylor nodded, still feeling pretty miserable. "Have you done any research into this Crime Lab?"

"No," Taylor told him, shaking her head furiously. "I'm not a cop, I'm not a criminalist, I'm not here for a story, I don't handle dead bodies well, I can't stand the sight of blood, and put me in anything resembling a hostage situation and I panic. I haven't come here to try to upset people and I'm really sorry about that. I admit I probably should have realised that Holly was close to you, but I honestly didn't know."

As Grissom stared at her, Taylor came to a startling conclusion that he, Mac, and even Horatio, had this unnerving ability to seemingly read people's souls. Perhaps it was a requirement for the job. "I believe you."

Taylor stared at him in a stunned silence. "Seriously?" she asked, finally. "I mean, _seriously_?"

"I believe that your appearance here isn't malicious, but if you're asking me if I believe you can see ghosts, I'm afraid there hasn't been enough evidence for that, yet. That being said, I think it might be for the best if you go home now."

"But, you don't understand. The ghost will keep coming to me until the case has been solved," Taylor insisted.

"Miss Turner, it seems _you_ don't understand. I put the well-being of my lab before solving a case. The evidence will prevail, regardless of whether or not we have outside help from a psychic."

"I'm not a psychic," Taylor muttered as she watched Grissom leave.

From across the room, Flack got to his feet. "Maybe we should leave, Taylor."

"I would love to, Don," Taylor sighed. "But, there's a child missing and I'm not going to be able to live myself if that child dies, especially if there is something I could have done."

"Let me talk to Grissom," Greg piped up. "Maybe I can get him to let you hang around the lab or something."

"Greggo, you've been a CSI for all of five minutes," Nick told him. "Grissom won't agree."

"Well, what do you suggest then?"

Nick looked over at Taylor. "You really think you can help?"

Taylor nodded. "Yes," she told him firmly.

"I'll go talk to Grissom," he told them, causing Greg's jaw to hit the floor, before leaving the room.

"I don't believe it," Greg muttered.

"Neither do I," Flack told him.

"I should have gotten a job here. Making you guys believe in ghosts is a damn sight easier than it was to convince these guys in New York," Taylor told Greg, still slightly perplexed at what had just occurred.

. . .

It took a while, but Nick somehow managed to convince Grissom that Taylor could assist on the case. After spending the better part of an hour filling out paperwork – for insurance purposes, according to Nick – Taylor was in the back of a truck with Greg and Nick heading to Castenelli Heights, whilst Flack had been conscripted by Sofia to run checks on the Castenelli family.

"Why did you talk to Grissom?" Taylor leant forward into the front of the truck to ask Nick. "I mean, you don't believe me, do you?"

From the driver's seat, Nick glanced at her in the rear view mirror, "No, but if there is even the smallest chance that you can help find this kid, even if it's only by forming part of a search party, then it's better than nothing."

"I can help," Taylor told him firmly, meeting his gaze head on.

"Have the ghosts given us any more information to go on?" Greg asked, as he turned around in his seat.

"Whoa, that is weird," Taylor muttered.

"What?"

"I've known you a couple of hours and you believe me. And I haven't had to wait for a ghost to tell me something that only you would understand." Greg shrugged. "Sorry. No. Nothing new. But I'm hoping that when we get to Leon's his brother might appear and give us something useful to go on."

"Can I ask a question?" asked Nick.

Taylor nodded. "Sure."

"If these ghosts come to you to help them solve their deaths, then why aren't you doing our job?"

"My stomach doesn't cope well with dead bodies. Besides, I know very little about science and I enjoy my job too much. I only intend on helping while they come to see me. If this is the last ghost I ever see, it won't be the saddest day of my life, let me assure you."

"But you could do so much good," objected Greg.

Taylor shook her head, staring out of the window as Vegas flew past them. "You guys don't just solve murders. You solve a multitude of cases. I'd only be any use on a small percentage of cases, and the rest would probably never get solved. As it is, I help to solve the cases that I can. And that's enough."

"I suppose you have a point," Greg agreed.

"Right," said Nick as they finally pulled up outside a house. "If you come in there-"

"I wear gloves, stand where you tell me and don't touch anything," Taylor finished for him. Nick turned around in his seat and glared sharply at her. Taylor shrugged, "It's not my first crime scene and that has been drilled into my head."

. . .

The house was a one up, one down, four bedroom affair, with a large swimming pool in the back yard. Inside, the three of them headed straight for Tristan's bedroom. "Right," said Nick, glancing around. "According to Leon, Tristan was taken from his bedroom, sometime between when he was put to bed at eight and ten p.m. when Leon received the call that his son was missing."

"I'll take Tristan's bedroom," Greg declared, setting his kit down.

"I'll start downstairs and see if I can establish a point of entry," Nick agreed, heading straight back down the stairs.

"Well, I'll stand around and look pretty until Geoff's ghost appears," Taylor muttered, more to herself than to the CSIs. She didn't have to wait long for the temperature to drop and the two ghosts to appear.

"Save him," Geoff told her as he pointed out of a window.

Taylor glanced out of it, before heading down the stairs and out into the front yard where Geoff had been pointing. In the dim light provided by a street lamp, Geoff and Holly appeared again.

"Save him," Geoff repeated, pointing to a spot just by where Nick had parked the crime lab truck.

Taylor wandered over to the spot, crouching down to see a tire mark. She looked up at Geoff. "Tire treads?"

Geoff nodded, "Save him."

Taylor nodded and had started back in the direction of the house, when she stopped and turned, a thought entered her mind. "Holly, I have a question," Taylor frowned, looking over at the ghost. "If you're the Las Vegas ghost liaison… or whatever, who were you working with, because no one on this shift seems aware that you are even here?"

"Sally Mitchell."

"And she is?" Taylor asked.

"Actually, she's on maternity leave at the moment."

Taylor frowned. "But she's a CSI?

Holly nodded. "From the day shift."

"So there are others like me?" Holly nodded again. "Any chance I could meet her?"

"She flew back to Hawaii to be with her parents, so no."

"Oh," Taylor sighed before turning and continuing back in to the house. "Nick," she called, spotting the CSI by the bottom of the stairs. "I think I have something."


	101. Finding An Ally

_19/03/2007_

**Chapter 100: Finding An Ally**

Flack stared at his computer, chewing on a pen, lost in thought. "You really believe that your girlfriend can see ghosts?" Sofia asked, breaking his concentration.

Flack looked up over his monitor at the Las Vegas detective who was sitting opposite him. Flack sighed and leant back in his chair. "You think she's crazy, don't you?" Refraining from making a somewhat rude comment, Sofia just shrugged her reply. "I thought she was once, too." Flack said quietly.

Sofia raised her eyebrows. "And did you believe her before or after you started dating her."

Flack smiled. "She wouldn't let me date her until I did believe her."

Sofia shook her head, "Next you'll be telling me that you can see them too." Flack glanced down at the pen his hand. "You can see them?"

Flack nodded. "I can see only Maddy and Aiden."

"Alright, I'm sorry, but I have to say this. When was the last time you had a CAT scan? The both of you, I mean."

"We're not crazy," Flack told her shortly.

Sofia let out a dry laugh, "I think our department shrink, or any shrink for that matter, would disagree with you on that one."

Flack stared over at her and sighed, suddenly feeling guilty for all the grief he had given Taylor over the matter.

"Castenelli's in interview room three," said Catherine, interrupting the two. She glanced back and forth at them and frowned. "Have I interrupted something?"

Sofia looked over at Flack before shaking her head. "Not a thing."

. . .

Taylor pulled her feet up underneath herself and curled up into a smaller ball on the couch trying to suppress a yawn. Not only was the sun beginning to rise, but she had forgotten just how exhausting it was trying to convince people that she wasn't crazy.

Sofia had allowed Flack to tag along with herself and Catherine whilst they went to question Castenelli. Nick and Greg were busy processing the evidence they had collected from Orson's house. She had no idea where Sara and Warrick were. Although, that being said, she wasn't exactly sure that the latter two wanted to see her anyway.

Turning sideways, she sank herself further into the couch so that she was lying down, her feet dangling over the arm and watched the fan spinning overhead in the dim light. And then it was blocked by a head belonging to someone she had yet to meet.

"Who are you and why are you in our break room?" it demanded. "You're that woman that thinks she can see ghosts, aren't you?" he continued, preventing her from answering the question. "You're the one who upset Warrick. Although it was his fault she died, so that goes without saying."

_What does he mean by that? Why would it be Warrick's fault?_ Taylor's mouth dropped open in surprise at the attack. "Who are you?" she managed to fit in.

"You can't just waltz in here upsetting my colleagues, you know," the man continued, ignoring the question. "It's not fair. In fact, I don't see why you should be here to start off with. Psychics are frauds anyway, and there are no such things as ghosts."

Taylor whirled back round, slamming her feet on the ground in her anger. "Now just hold on for one minute there, buddy," she practically growled at him. "My only intention is to help, so don't you dare start ranting and raving at me over things you don't understand."

"Oh, I understand, alright," he shouted back. "I understand perfectly how you journalist types work. You're here to stir up as much trouble as possible so that the public has one more thing to hate us for."

"I'm from New York!" Taylor yelled back as she leapt to her feet. "Do you really think I actually give a damn how a Las Vegas Crime Lab works?"

"New York, Las Vegas – it's all the same. You people just don't like how we're the ones solving the crimes. You watch too much TV and expect the police to come to you to help with the cases."

"I am not here for a story," Taylor shrieked. "God damnit, you're the one who has it all wrong – thinking that all we journalists want is a story. I DON'T!"

"HEY!" roared Nick, running over and physically pushing the two apart. Somewhere in amongst all the shouting, the two had become mere inches away from each other. "Brooks, what are you doing in here?"

"She started it," Brooks muttered.

"Me?!" exclaimed Taylor. "You're the one who started shouting at me. All I was trying to do was rest!"

"You're the one who marched in here acting like you owned the place," Brooks responded, his voice rising again.

"Hey. HEY!" Nick yelled again. "We're adults. In a workplace… let's act like it, shall we? Now, Brooks, unless you have some case breaking information for me, I suggest you get back in that trace lab and finish up on whatever work you have."

"But-"

"Now." Nick told him. With one last glare at Taylor, Brooks turned and left. Nick sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "And we thought Hodges was a problem," he muttered.

Taylor just stared at him.

Nick stared back before glancing around. Taylor followed his glance and cringed. "What is it with crime labs and glass windows? Seriously?" she asked him, conscious of the various lab techs that had clearly been watching the scene unfold.

"We found something on that tire print," Nick told her. He turned and began to walk out of the room. Taylor was hot on his heels.

. . .

"So the ghost really came to you with a case breaker?" Greg asked excitedly from behind her. Taylor looked up from the computer from which Nick was running the tire tread and shrugged.

"Greg, the tire prints belong to a Dodge Ram – they're hardly uncommon," Nick muttered as the computer beeped with its findings. "A 2004 model," Nick confirmed.

"Well, I can tell you that Castenelli owns a 2004 black Dodge Ram, which was being returned to him after being cleaned," Catherine told them as she walked into the room, followed by Sofia and Flack, and dropped a folder on the table.

Taylor frowned and picked up the folder, flicking through it, still agitated from the earlier confrontation.

"Well, that's enough for a warrant to search the hotel, surely?" Greg asked.

"I've already called the judge," Sofia confirmed. "As soon as the warrant comes through, we're going in."

In the doorway, Geoff and Holly appeared. Geoff was shaking his head. Ignoring the conversation the others were now holding, Taylor frowned, concentrating on the ghosts. "He's not in the hotel?"

Geoff nodded in agreement. Then, instead of fading away like the ghosts normally did, he turned and began walking hurriedly down the corridor. Ignoring the others, Taylor followed after him.

"Where are you going?" Catherine called after her.

Barely turning, Taylor just shrugged and continued following the ghost. He led her to the reception area and pointed to floor. The floor had a large crest which included a large map of Nevada. And Geoff was pointing to a specific point.

Taylor crouched down to examine the spot. "What's there?" she asked as feet surrounded her.

"A tile?" Catherine asked her, clearly thinking Taylor was getting even crazier.

"No, I mean, the map. What's there?"

"Desert," Greg told her, cocking his head.

Taylor got back to her feet, "I think that's where Tristan is. Or at the very least, a clue to where he is."

Catherine gazed scathingly at her. "Taylor, there is nothing there, short of sand and dirt. And we can't afford to waste man power to check there when there has been no evidence whatsoever to indicate otherwise."

Taylor stood up in her frustration. "What the hell is the matter with you people? All I want to do is find this boy and make sure he's safe," Taylor cried. "And you guys are just doing is everything in your power to try and stop me."

"Taylor," Flack muttered in a low voice, placing his hand on her shoulder.

Shaking his hand off herself, Taylor did the last thing that Flack expected and nodded, without saying another word.

Even Catherine seemed a little surprised. "You're not going to argue some more?"

Taylor shrugged in defeat. "What's the point?" she asked, sighing dejectedly.

"Oh. Alright then. Well, Greg, we're going to Castenelli Heights. Nick?"

"I'm going to finish processing the car," he muttered. After sending Taylor a searching look, he left.

Sofia turned to Flack. "Out of professional courtesy, would you like to help search the hotel? Just you, though. We can't allow Taylor onto the crime scene."

"Thank you, but I-"

"You should go," Taylor interrupted quietly. "I'll be fine."

"Taylor?"

"Seriously. Besides, if nothing else, the more people who are searching that hotel, the sooner you're all going to realise that Tristan's not there."

Flack smiled at Sofia before grabbing Taylor's arm and half dragged her away from the group and into another empty room. "What are you planning, Taylor Nicole Turner?"

"Don't you middle name me, Donald," Taylor snapped, before she let out a sigh. "Nothing. What's the point? There are only so many times that I can tell these people that they are searching the wrong place. The only thing we can do is help the search in the hotel so that we can get them to finally realise that there might be some truth in what I say so that we can go and recover Tristan's body."

"Taylor," said Flack gently, placing a hand on each of her shoulders and looking into her eyes. "If you'd have given up with us in New York this easily, we would never be here now."

"Don, the only reason you believe me is because you died. And I'm not prepared to be arrested for murder just to get one of them to believe me."

Flack sighed. "The point is you didn't give up. You got one person to believe in you and slowly more did."

Taylor's eyes lit up. "You're right."

Flack frowned. "I'm not sure I like that look, Tay. I think I preferred the 'given up' look."

. . .

Without telling Flack what she was doing, Taylor hurried back into the crime lab. The Vegas CSIs had dispersed into various parts of the building, with the exception of Sophia and Catherine, who were waiting outside in a truck for Greg. This left one very concerned Flack following a very strong-minded Taylor, who was storming down the corridor. With determination masking her features, she ignored Flack who was trying to get her to tell him what she was doing.

Greg was in the locker room, alone, pulling a clean shirt over his head, when Taylor burst into the room. He gave a small yell and yanked the shirt down. "What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Do you believe me?" Taylor demanded as she stared directly at him.

"Believe you?" he repeated, still startled.

"That I can see ghosts."

"Um, Taylor," Flack interrupted.

"Don, you're the one who put this idea in my head, so don't tell me to stop."

"I'm not sure this is what I had in mind," he muttered.

Ignoring him, Taylor continued to focus her attention on Greg. "Do you believe that I can see ghosts?"

"Yeah," he told her.

"And do you think I know where Tristan is?"

Greg paused, "I don't know. I guess."

"Greg. Yes or no."

"Yes."

Taylor grinned. "Right. Come with me."

One down… time for the next one.

. . .

Taylor shivered as Geoff and Holly appeared again. Normally, when a ghost came to see her, there was a drop in the temperature, but this time, the drop had been incredible – she could even see the ghost's breath on the air. (Something which would later puzzle her beyond belief.) And that meant only one thing. If the ghost was telling her exactly where Tristan was, accompanied by very cold temperatures, then he was in serious trouble.

That called for drastic action. Her plan made a quick alteration after she spotted the person she was after walking down the corridor, rather than finding him in the garage where he was supposed to be. Before Nick knew what was happening, Taylor had her hands on his chest and was pushing him backwards into a supply closet, shutting the door behind them, locking Flack and Greg out in the hallway. She could hear Flack calling her name through the door.

"Now hang on one minute!" he yelped. "I am not that kind of guy, especially-"

"Okay, seriously," Taylor hissed. "Not interested in that. Especially when my boyfriend is standing on the other side of the door. I figured this was the only place we could talk that doesn't have a glass wall, because right now, I have no idea what to do. I've spent months getting the CSIs in New York to believe me, and if there wasn't a time restraint on this, it wouldn't be such a problem, but there is. I'm not here to help find a murderer. I'm here to try and prevent another murder. A kid. A little, defenceless kid, who has been brought into this because of a piece of land. And he's in trouble. Not just the run of the mill kidnapping trouble. It's the I'm lost and freezing to death, the only living person who knows anything has just had his car detailed and is allowing the police to look in the wrong place, kind of trouble. Actually, that's not true, there are two people who know where he is, and I'm the other. But because I got this information-"

"Taylor."

"-from a ghost, no one believes me, except for the one CSI who apparently has only just passed his proficiency exam, and has always been slightly eccentric, so can't really do anything. Although, he has agreed to come with me. But _you_, you've been doing this a while, and unlike the others who just plain don't like me because I've been unfortunate enough to have been visited by the ghost of a dead colleague – not my fault, by the way, although from the way every one was reacting, you would think-"

"Taylor."

"-it was. So it's got to be you. And I need you to listen to me and accept that maybe, just _maybe_, there _are_ such things as ghosts. I know where Tristan is, but I need you to believe me so that we can go out there and get him, because if he's still being held hostage, rather than being abandoned, I need someone who has a gun, because I don't have one. And although Don does have one, I'm not about to send him in anywhere without backup. And you can arrest me if you want, but when a judge hears how I've can see ghosts, I'm going to be committed to a psychiatric hospital, but even then, when the doctors hear how much work I've done, I'll be released. At the very worst, they'll keep me in there for a while, and it'll be nothing more than a welcome break, because I'm pretty certain the ghosts won't come visit me in there-"

"TAYLOR!" Nick bellowed.

Taylor stopped and blinked. "Yeah?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"

Taylor pursed her lips. "The only way you are going to get me to shut up is by either gagging me or agreeing to go out into the desert with me."

"Alright."

"Alright you're going to gag me or alright you'll go out in the desert?" Taylor frowned. "Because I'll have you know that it's going to take a lot more than a piece of cloth to-"

"Taylor, just shut up already and breathe! I'll go out into the desert," Nick cried in exasperation.


	102. Getting Permission

_08/04/2007_

**Chapter 101: Getting Permission**

"So now what?" Flack asked, after raising an eyebrow at the appearance of Nick at Taylor's side.

"Now we get permission," Taylor explained.

Flack's mouth dropped open. "Permission? Am I hearing that right?"

Taylor shot a glare at him. "It's one thing to get myself in trouble, but these two work here," she told him, indicating to Greg and Nick, as she pushed open the door to Grissom's office and marched in. "Mr Grissom," she started, quickly stopping at the sound of singing. She looked up to find the source of the music coming from a fish that was dancing above her. "I have got to get Mac one of those," she muttered, transfixed on its wiggling tail.

Grissom cleared his throat. "What can I do for you, Miss Taylor?"

"Mr Grissom," she said firmly, turning her attention back to the senior CSI. "I know where Tristan is. I mean, I didn't put him there, but I know where he is. Now, I'm prepared to drive out into the desert myself and bring him back, but Castenelli seems like someone who won't mess around, and I wouldn't be surprised to find that he has at least one person with Tristan. However, if the worst has happened and he's dead, if nothing else, I'm going to contaminate a crime scene. Nick and Greg believe me." She frowned. "Well, they might be humouring me, but the point is they're prepared to go out with me. I could probably get them out there without your permission if I annoy them enough, but I think they should have it. And I think you should give it them."

Grissom stared at her, silently, and blinked. "Very well."

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "That's it?"

"What else were you expecting?"

"A no, and a lot more talking on my part, followed by me going out there by myself and getting hurt," Taylor answered after a moment's thought.

Grissom nodded. "Exactly."

"Huh?" Taylor asked, turning to Nick and Greg to see if they could understand their boss. They just shrugged at her.

"Miss Turner," said Grissom. "The sooner you leave, the sooner you come back."

"You're just going to let us go by ourselves?"

"Of course not," Grissom corrected her calmly. "I'm going to let you go, but Detective Brass is going with you, along with back-up."

"Taylor," said Flack, stepping behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders. "You won this one, come on," he told her, directing her out of the room.

. . .

"Taylor, do you know where you're going?" Nick asked, his eyes staring at the sand and rocks in front of them. He turned back to Taylor who seemed to be struggling with a compass and a map.

"I'm fine," Taylor told him as she thrust the map down by her side. "Just keep on going in the direction we've been heading."

"Taylor, do you really know where you're going?" Nick asked again. "Because this weather is starting to get pretty bad, and the last thing we want is to be trapped out during a sandstorm."

"So let me clarify," said Brass. "We're driving out into the middle of the desert because a ghost said so?"

"Yeah," Nick affirmed. "Who'd have thought?"

"I should have known Grissom wasn't joking when he called me," Jim Brass muttered under his breath. "Where are we heading?"

Taylor said nothing, instead chewing desperately at her lip. She glanced out of the window to the mirror where she could see the patrol truck that Flack and Greg were in with a couple of uniforms.

"Can you really see Holly?" Nick asked, breaking the silence.

Taylor glanced over at him. "Are you going to believe me if I say yes?"

Nick frowned. "Tell me something about her."

"Why?" Taylor asked, looking down at the map. "I don't know anything about her other than what she looks like, and you can just turn around and say that I saw a picture."

Nick took a deep breath. "How long have you been able to see ghosts?"

"Nearly a year exactly."

"So," said Nick slowly, glancing at her from the side of his eye. "Assuming I believe you, and you can see ghosts, why you?"

"Huh?" Taylor glanced at him, confused.

"Why you? Why do the ghosts come to you?"

Taylor sighed. "You'd be surprised how many times I ask myself that. I honestly don't know."

"If you had the choice, would you still want to see them?"

"Yes," Taylor told him, surprised at the firmness in her voice. "I mean, if I didn't have to see them in the state they were killed, that would be great, but if helping them means I have to see ghosts repeatedly burned alive then I'll do it."

"I'm not saying I believe you," said Nick. "But if... I wish I'd have seen you."

Taylor turned and stared sharply at him, "What do you mean? You wish you had seen me?"

"I mean, I came close to dying once. If I had, I wish there had been someone like you there for me," he explained quietly.

Taylor continued to stare intently at him, and then decided not to pursue it further. She took a deep breath and turned her attention to staring intently out of the window, trying to see anything in the minimal light the truck's headlights were throwing out. "There!" she cried, finally spotting something. "Dead ahead." Sure enough, coming up ahead was a ruin of a house. "Are you coming?" she yelled as she leapt out of the car after it skidded to a halt.

"Taylor!" Nick yelled after her, his voice was whipped away in an instant as he was battered with sand. He looked up at the house a frowned. It was being attacked from all angles by the wind and sand, and didn't look like it was going to be standing for much longer. As the other truck screamed to a halt behind him, and the other men exited the truck, he dashed after Taylor into the house, grabbing her and pulling her back. "Taylor, you can't run off like that. You don't know how secure this place is."

Taylor felt a sense of dread come over her after looking at the house. "Something is happening here, Nick," she told him. "There's a kid in trouble and he needs our help."

"Miss, I need you stand back outside with Greg and Detective Flack whilst we clear the house," Jim ordered her, ushering her back outside where Greg and Flack were waiting.

Flack ran up behind Taylor. "Taylor!" he bellowed angrily, as Brass disappeared back into the house. "How many times have I got to tell you not to do things like that?!"

"I can't help it," Taylor told him, staring at the house, tempted to dash back in.

"Learn to help it, damnit," he told her, clamping his hand on her shoulder, as if he sensed what she wanted to do.

Minutes later, the two uniforms, Brass and Nick came back out, stopping Taylor chewing at the skin around her nails. "Were we too late?"

Brass rolled his eyes. "There's nothing in there."

Taylor looked at Nick who just nodded in confirmation, looking somewhat annoyed. With a determined frown, Taylor brushed past them and into the house. "Taylor, there's nothing here," Nick called, dashing in after her.

"You're wrong," Taylor told him, walking into the kitchen. It was empty, save for a table and a door which was banging shut in a draft. Ignoring Nick's impatient sighs, she turned to find Holly in one of the corners with Geoff, who was pointing at the swinging pantry door.

"We checked that," Nick told her as she walked in.

It was just big enough to fit Taylor and Geoff in. He was pointing at a bracket which was holding up one of the shelves against the back wall. Taylor looked closely at it after Geoff disappeared. Following the line of missing dust, she grabbed the bracket and pulled, discovering it was actually a handle to another door. Behind her, Nick swore in disbelief.

"I don't believe it," he muttered.

"We can do the 'I told you so's' when Tristan is back with his dad," Taylor told him, about to run through it when she was grabbed by Nick.

"I'm the one with the gun. You wait here," he ordered before heading through the door and down the earthen stairs. Taylor ignored the order and followed right behind him.

Taylor was still right behind him when they stepped into an underground room. Before Taylor had the chance to take in the room, there was a flurry of movement. Taylor managed to duck just as he opened fire, the wood behind exploding. Before she even raised her head, there was another four bangs from in front of her, and then a thud. When she looked up, the man was on the floor, and Nick was running over to him, his gun still aimed at him. He kicked his gun out of the way, and then checked the pulse.

"Is he dead?" Taylor whispered, staring at the three bullet wounds in his chest.

Nick nodded. "It looks like you were right."

There was an explosion of noise as above them, as there was movement in the kitchen, and Brass and the uniforms appeared, guns drawn, followed closely by Flack and then Greg.

"What in hell's name is happening?!" Brass bellowed as he charged down the stairs, gun draw.

Taylor however, wasn't paying any attention. She had just spotted something. Tied to a supportive beam, unconscious, but shivering in the dim light was a small child. "Tristan?" Taylor shouted, dashing over to him and tugged on the ropes. "He's freezing."

Nick put his gun away, replaced it with a pocket knife and began sawing away at the ropes. Within minutes, he was free. Taylor pulled off her jacket and wrapped it around him, scooping him into her arms.

"We need to get him to a hospital," Nick said, pulling out his phone. It was thrust back into his pocket seconds later. "There's no signal. The storm must be affecting it."

Taylor pulled hers out. "I've got nothing either."

"Let's get outside to the cars and radio for help," Jim ordered, still surprised at the fact there was a hidden room, a dead body and the missing child.

"Come on," said Flack, hurrying over to Taylor and helping her to her feet. "We need to get out of here."

Taylor nodded and followed everyone up the stairs and to the front door, ignoring the house which was creaking around them. Outside, the storm had built up into a fully fledged sand storm. They could barely see the truck.

"Let me take him for you," Greg offered as he scooped Tristan up out of Taylor's arms. The group of them were half way to the car when there was an enormous bang followed instantaneously by the patrol truck's window shattering.

Taylor didn't register that it was a gunshot until she had been dragged around to the far side of the car by Flack and was crouched down, heart beating furiously. There was another bang, followed by a pop, and the truck sank as another bullet hit the trucks tire. Taylor covered her mouth to catch the scream that threatened to burst from her throat.

. . .

"This would have gone so much quicker if Greg had come with us," Catherine was muttering under her breath.

"He didn't give you a reason?" Sofia asked in surprise as she leafed through a handful of Castenelli's mail.

"No," Catherine fumed. "I just got a call from Grissom to go on without him."

"You don't think he's gone somewhere with Turner?"

"That's it," Catherine muttered. "If we ever have a case that crosses jurisdictions with New York, I'm not doing it."

"Catherine, Taylor isn't from New York," Sofia responded. "Well, she is, but she doesn't have a New York accent, so she's not from there originally."

"It has nothing to do with her being from New York. It's that she meddles with the Crime Lab there, and I don't think that I could handle her continuously telling me that some ghost has told her that it was killed by a rubber chicken. The whole thing is a joke," Catherine explained as both she and Sofia processed Castenelli's office.

"Well there's nothing here," Sofia told her as she flicked through a pile of papers on the desk. "And uniforms have searched this hotel from top to bottom."

"Sofia," Catherine started, but was quickly cut off by her phone ringing. "Hello… hi Warrick… yeah, we're here now… I thought Nick was doing that…? You have got to be joking…. No, we're coming back in… bye."

"What was that?" Sofia asked, staring expectantly at the crime scene investigator.

"She might not be so crazy after all," Catherine told her, staring in amazement at her phone. "Hodges has found something."


	103. Safe And Sound

_05/05/2007_

**Chapter 102: Safe And Sound**

Catherine and Sofia returned to the crime lab to find Warrick pacing up and down, phone on his ear, looking torn between being worried and furious. He hung up the moment he spotted the two CSIs. "She's gone," he told them simply.

"She could have gone back to her hotel?" Catherine suggested. "And why are you bothered? Maybe we can get some real wo-"

"Trust me, that is exactly what I want, but she's gone off to find Tristan and she's taken Nick, Greg and Brass with her. None of their phones or radios are responding and if they've gone out into the desert, there's a huge sandstorm."

"What about the GPS on their truck?" Catherine suggested.

"We could try, but it's going to take some time to activate," said Sofia. "I'll get on that now." She pulled out her phone and hurried out of the room.

"I have the answer," said Hodges, as he rounded the corridor, accompanied by Grissom. "After extensive research, your trusty trace analyst has once again come to you with the case breaker. Nick and the journalist are in the desert."

"Hodges, we knew that anyway," Catherine told him irritated.

"But not only are they there, so is the child."

"Again, Warrick called me telling us that about half an hour ago," she said, growing more annoyed.

"Yes, but I know where," Hodges continued.

"Actually," said Grissom. "_I_ know where they are."

"Nick found a husk on the truck," Hodges continued, unperturbed. "And sent it to yours truly who discovered-"

"No doubt after showing it to Grissom," Catherine muttered under her breath.

"Who discovered that the husk belongs to a beetle which only lives in an area of the desert twenty miles north of here," Hodges continued, either ignoring or not hearing Catherine.

"Unfortunately, that area covers a chunk of the desert in a ten mile radius," added Grissom.

"Well, I think I can narrow that down," said Sara, as she entered the break room carrying a map which she laid out on the table. "This is the area they could be in," she said, drawing a large circle on the map. "And after spending several hours reading through Castenelli's biography on the internet, it turns out he owns three properties in this area. Admittedly, they're all ruins of houses, but he's been buying up property with the intent of creating an oasis-style resort," she explained as she drew crosses on the map.

"So what? Are we going to try all of them?" Sofia asked.

"I have an idea," said Catherine. Instead of explaining the idea, she grabbed the map and headed out of the room. She made a detour into a lab to pick up a finger printing kit, and continued into the reception, followed by the rest of the CSIs and detective. She stopped at the State of Nevada mosaic in the middle of the floor, and proceeded to dust it. "If she really thinks she can see ghosts, then surely she will have headed to the spot the 'ghost' pointed to. She pointed to it, too," she explained as she dusted. A red fingerprint appeared. "Then we should be able to tell where they went," she explained as she compared the spot of the print to the crosses on the map. "It looks like that one."

"What I don't understand," said Warrick. "Is why she was accompanied into the desert?"

"I let them go," Grissom explained.

. . .

There was another bang and a shout of pain as one of the officers fell to the ground, clutching his neck. Taylor froze, staring in horror at the blood which was beginning to seep through the man's fingers. She turned to Greg, who was clutching tightly to Tristan looking just as scared as she felt. She realized that as Nick, Jim, Flack, and the other officer were busy trying to find where the gunfire was originating from, unless she did something, he was going to die.

Taking a huge breath, Taylor crawled out to him, trying desperately to push the knowledge that if he had been hit from that position, she was in just as a precarious place. She grabbed his jacket and she pulled him back to the safety of the truck where she clamped her hand firmly over the wound.

Taylor turned to Greg, about to ask him how Tristan was, when she realized that he was staring at her, mouth open. "He could die if we'd have left him there," she told him.

Greg just continued to flap his mouth open at her.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes, she heard Brass shout over the wind that he had got him. Instead of turning their attention to their fallen comrade, the four armed men headed out from behind the car to check that the threat had been stopped. This left Taylor with the officer, desperately hoping that he believed her when she told him everything was going to be alright.

Minutes later, the men were back at the car, telling them it was alright. Upon seeing the officer in Taylor's hands, Nick dashed into the truck and pulled out a first aid kit, clamping some gauze over the wound.

"He needs a hospital," Taylor whispered, her voice lost in the sand and wind, as Flack pulled her to her feet and away from the injured officer.

"We need to get out of this storm," Jim bellowed.

"The cars aren't going to get us anywhere," Greg shouted, pointing to the gas which was leaking out of one. Taylor glanced over at the other. It was down two tires and looked like it was in just as sorry a state.

"He's not doing too good either," Taylor muttered, looking at Tristan. "You think they'll notice that we're not there in time?"

"Noticing we're not there is not the problem; it's finding us out here that is." Nick told her, rubbing his forehead.

"Could we walk back?"

"Even if we could see through the sand, survive the elements, actually go in the right direction, and not get lost, Tristan wouldn't make it. We're better off in here. The others will find us."

"Did you tell them where we were going?" Taylor asked him.

"No, but they've found me before," Nick told her.

Taylor frowned. "You have a habit of getting lost?"

"Not quite," Nick replied after a pause. He licked his lips. "Let's just say I was in a worse situation and they got me out of it."

Taylor nodded, "I have a habit of getting in somewhat precarious situations."

"Do I want to ask?"

"It's probably best if you don't," Taylor told him.

"How's he doing?" Nick asked, gesturing to the shivering child.

"He's, um," Greg bit his lip. "I don't think he's doing too well. I can't get him warm."

Nick frowned then climbed into the back. After a few moments clattering around, he climbed back over carrying two crime lab jackets and a blanket. "Wrap him up in these," he told him as he handed them to him.

"Is this going to work?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Nick replied, "I think it's just going to buy us some time."

"Nick, even if they do work out where we are, how are they going to get here in this weather?" Taylor asked.

"They'll manage it, don't worry."

. . .

"I'm beginning to think this was a stupid idea," Catherine muttered from the front of the truck.

"_GPS has them at the location we're headed_," Sophia's voice came crackling through the radio. "_We should be there soon._"

Warrick glanced into the rear view mirror at Sophia's patrol truck which was racing behind them, just in front of the ambulance. "You were saying?"

Catherine rolled her eyes at him and grabbed the radio. "Copy that."

Sure enough, after a few more minutes of bumping over the rough sand and stones with the dirt making it hard to see, the dim outline of a house and a couple of trucks started to come into view.

"Something's wrong," said Warrick as they drew closer.

. . .

Brass had ordered everyone back into the house and into the hallway which was the most stable of the rooms, whilst ensuring that everyone remained out of harm's way. The other officer was outside in one of the trucks trying desperately to get something over the police scanner, while Taylor had her hand clamped firmly over the injured officer's wound. Flack was pacing up and down, whilst Nick and Brass were talking, huddled in a corner. Greg, on the other hand, was still clutching tightly to Tristan, whilst staring at Taylor like he had just seen her walk through a wall.

"How you doing, Ethan?" Taylor asked the officer, ignoring the stare which she was finding quite disconcerting.

"How's he doing?" Brass asked.

Taylor shook her head. "He needs a doctor."

"What about Tristan?"

Greg managed to tear his gaze away from Taylor long enough to say, "He's doing better, but he needs a doctor, too."

Taylor frowned. "Can anyone hear that?"

The various occupants of the room which were still conscious shook their heads. "Not only is she seeing things, she's hearing things," Brass muttered.

"Now just hold up there," Taylor growled. "We found Tristan, didn't we? So don't go telling me that I'm seeing things."

"Hey," Flack said, gently, as he hurried over to Taylor, well aware of the route the conversation was about to go.

"Flack, you are supposed to be on my side," Taylor snapped at him.

Flack, who had narrowed his eyes at the use of his surname, glared at her. "I am on your side, Taylor. Perhaps it's my fault for letting you get too involved in this case."

"You _let_ me get too involved in this case?" Taylor cried incredulously as the pitch of her voice got higher. "You didn't _let_ me get too involved in anything. I got too involved myself, thank you very much. And yes, I am involved. I have my hand clamped down over an officer's bullet wound and there's a scared child who is only just alright over there. And the only reason we're in this situation, Flack, is because I dragged us here," she told him, trying desperately to hold back the tears she could feel burning the corners of her eyes.

"I can hear a siren!" Greg cried excitedly, breaking the tension in the room.

. . .

Taylor threw the clothes she had been wearing into the trash can. There was no way the blood was going to come out of them.

"You alright?" Flack asked her wearily.

"I will be after a shower and a sleep. They're charging us for this room. We may as well use it," Taylor yawned.

Flack nodded. "I know the feeling. But that's not what I meant."

"Don, Tristan is safe. Officer Clark is in ICU, but he's going to be fine, too. And frankly, I don't care if the Vegas CSIs ban me from Las Vegas."

"I'm sorry," Flack told her.

Taylor looked up at him in confusion. "For what?"

"Giving you such a hard time."

"Hey, you know me. I can be stubborn and awkward when there's a ghost involved. I'm sorry for snapping at you. And for dragging you into this."

"I was actually referring to all the grief I gave you before I started believing in ghosts. Back in New York, I certainly didn't give you an easy time by any account."

"I can see ghosts. I'd give myself a hard time." Taylor stifled a yawn. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving… and craving a burger. Let's get cleaned up and go for something to eat."

"A burger? It's five in the morning."

"I saw a 24 hour diner on our way back here," Taylor shrugged. "And we've been up all night. We may as well get something to eat. You can have a coffee if you want?"

. . .

A couple of hours later, Taylor was wiping up the last drops of mayonnaise with her remaining fries in the diner as Flack was finishing off his coffee. "That was needed," she told him as she sat back and groaned in content.

"Glad to see that you appetite hasn't disappeared," came Nick's voice.

Taylor whipped her head around and found him standing behind her with Greg and… Catherine. "How's Tristan?"

"He's with Social Services. His grandmother is flying in from Flagstaff to collect him," Catherine told her. "Thanks to you."

Taylor blinked. "Come again?"

"Look, I'm not saying I believe in ghosts," Catherine told her. "I'll leave that to Greg. But I know you did help today, despite the resistance from me. So, thank you."

"You're welcome," Taylor said, quickly regaining her composure.

"However, I don't want to see this becoming a regular thing."

"Trust me, we're leaving this afternoon," Taylor grinned. "I never thought I'd say this, but I miss Mac."

"I have to go," Catherine told her. "But the LVPD is going to pick this tab up. Don't you worry about it."

Taylor smiled before glancing up at Greg, wishing she hadn't. He still had that strange look plastered across his face. "I'm probably going to regret asking this, but what's the matter, Greg?"

Greg looked around at the others before deciding to pull Taylor outside and away from them.

"Are you going to tell me what the matter is because despite what you think, I am not a psychic and I can't read minds?" Instead of answering Greg dug his hand into his pocket and pulled something out in his fist. "Greg?" Slowly, Greg opened his fingers to reveal a spent bullet on the palm of his hand. "I don't understand," Taylor muttered.

"This was heading straight for the back of your head. But instead of hitting you, it just stopped," Greg explained. "It looked like it hit an invisible wall."

Taylor picked up the bullet and cocked her head. "Isn't this evidence?"

Greg frowned at her. "Is this all you're worried about? Taylor, this should have killed you."

"But it didn't," Taylor told him. "And won't you get into trouble for compromising a crime scene?"

"Taylor," Greg repeated. "It mushroomed like a bullet does on impact. Only it didn't impact anything. It stopped about a foot behind your head. If I submit this, we're going to spend hours trying to prove what it hit. It could end up compromising the whole case anyway. No one knows about it."

Taylor handed the bullet back to him. "But what if they can't account for it?"

"We were in the middle of a desert and a sandstorm – there's no way we collected all of the evidence anyway."

"Greg, I appreciate what you're doing, but–"

"If I hand that over now, all I will get is sent to the department shrink and then probably put on probation for taking evidence. And that's the best case scenario."

"Still, I think you should say something to Mr Grissom. He seems like a decent boss," she continued, ignoring sniggering at putting a Mr before Grissom. "If nothing else, he seems more likely to believe you about ghosts-"

"Ah ha!" Greg yelped excitedly. "So you're admitting that it was a ghost!"

"Um, Greg, I've spent the past twelve hours trying to convince everyone else that there was a ghost," Taylor told him patiently.

Greg stopped jumping around and became serious. "Good point. But it _was_ a ghost?"

Taylor smiled. "More like a guardian angel."

. . .

There was one last… person… Taylor was expecting to see before she left, and she wasn't disappointed. Holly appeared with Geoff in the hotel lobby as Flack was checking out.

"Thank you," Geoff told her.

"You're welcome."

"Tristan will be fine now. My mother's going to take him out of Vegas. Something I should have done a long time ago." With a smile, Geoff disappeared.

"That was brief," Taylor told Holly.

Holly shrugged, "He got the message across." She paused and eyed Taylor up and down. "You don't have the same methods as Sally."

"You don't think that could be because Sally is a CSI and I'm not?"

"Good point," Holly nodded.

"When is she due back?"

"Not for another few months."

"Oh," Taylor sighed. She had been wondering if it would be possible to meet the CSI.

"Maybe next time," Holly told her, seemingly reading her mind.

Taylor looked at her sharply. "Maybe what next time?"

"Maybe you can meet her next time."

"There isn't going to be a next time," she frowned. "I'm not going through that again."

"You're part way there in having them all believe you," Holly pointed out.

"I don't care," Taylor told her.

"You don't care about what?" Flack asked as he came back over to her.

"Ghost," Taylor shrugged as Holly disappeared with a smile and a wave.

"You think we can manage to visit my sister without a guest visit?"

"I certainly hope so," Taylor sighed. "I certainly hope so."


	104. Calling Baton Rouge

_05/05/2007_

**Chapter 103: Calling Baton Rouge**

The further south they got, the warmer it was getting, and the scenery was getting increasingly barren. "Paige said they were still experiencing a drought down here," Flack muttered as they drove past several miles of dead pine trees.

Taylor shifted and put her feet up on the dashboard in front of her. "A drought is good for me. Danny was complaining about the rain again in the last text he sent. You want me to drive?"

"I'm fine. We'll be there in an hour or so, traffic permitting."

"What's your sister like?"

"Smart. She's a history lecturer," Flack told her, a small smile appearing on his face. "She can tell you anything and everything about the history of immigration and migration. Can't teach her to programme a video recorder to save her life though."

"What about her husband?"

"Damon?" Flack asked, frowning. "I don't really know him all that well, but he's a good guy. He's an anthropology lecturer. And he's into golf."

Taylor frowned. "You're not close to your sister then?"

"We were pretty close when we were kids, but just grew apart as the miles between us grew," Flack shrugged. "I still talk to her regularly though."

Twenty minutes later Flack was on the phone to his sister, navigating them from the interstate to her house just out of the east gate of the Louisiana State University campus. Flack's sister's house was a large, white, mock-plantation style home, complete with porch and hanging bench. They had barely parked when the door was flung open and a blur of auburn hair was dashing down the drive, sending the small stones flying as it leapt onto Flack with a squeal.

Taylor stood to one side, waiting for the pair to finish hugging. Finally, Flack turned. "Taylor, this is my exceeding clever, but somewhat crazy sister, Paige. Paige, this is Taylor, my equally as crazy girlfriend."

"I see we have something in common already," said Paige with a grin as she gave Taylor a hug to rival the one she had just given her brother. When she let go, Taylor noticed the man standing just behind them. "Taylor, this is Damon."

Damon was easily ten years older than his wife, with wisps of grey hair peaking through at his temples, but he just as welcoming as he also wrapped Taylor in his arms.

Taylor was about to say hello to him when she realised that there was something attached to her leg. She looked down and found a small child clutching tightly to right leg. "I, uh, I seem to have grown a small child."

"Quite an accomplishment," Damon told her. "It took Paige nine months to get something half that size."

"That's Jesse," Paige told her swiping at her husband. "He's the shy one," she explained as she dropped to her knees, "Hey Jesse, want to leave the nice lady alone and attack your uncle instead?"

"Hey!" Flack objected, but his indignation was ignored.

"No," said Jesse, clutching tighter.

"_He's_ the shy one?" Taylor repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah, Ellie over there would be the über-shy one hiding behind the porch screen."

Taylor glanced over at the doorway just in time to see a female version of the child attached to her leg disappear behind the door frame. She turned her sights to Flack who was not making any attempts to hide his amusement.

"I'm sorry about this," Paige told her in between trying to coax Jesse away. "He doesn't normally ever take with anyone this quickly."

"He doesn't normally ever take with anyone," Damon corrected.

Seeing that she was getting nowhere, Taylor bent down and scooped Jesse up, hoisting him onto her hip. "Hey there kiddo." Jesse just buried his head into her shoulder.

"Right, well, Damon, you can give Don a hand taking their bags into the guest room. Taylor, we'll head for the kitchen. I've just made some lemonade." As Taylor followed Paige into the house there was a small scuffling noise, and Taylor turned her head just in time to see a small figure dash into the front room and behind a bureau. "You get used to that," Paige told her when she realised that Taylor had stopped. "We're trying to get this shyness out of them, but it just doesn't seem to be working."

Taylor followed her into the kitchen and took a seat at the large oak table, shifting Jesse to her lap. "So you're the devil reincarnate, gold digging, cheating journalist who is trying to kill my brother?" Paige asked, as she poured some lemonade into the glasses she had pulled out from the cupboards.

Taylor's mouth dropped open as she struggled to find a polite response to the question. Paige laughed. "Sorry. That's what my parents are saying. But don't worry: you should have heard what they said about Damon."

Taylor continued to stare at Paige until a glass of lemonade was thrust into her hands. "I, uh… what did they say about Damon?"

"Oh, the usual overprotective parent routine. You know, he's not good enough, he probably has children from six previous marriages… oh, and they loved the fact he was my teacher."

"You were his student?"

"Yeah," Paige laughed. "But we didn't start dating until I was on the faculty here. He was my Anthropology 101 professor at Penn State. He transferred to LSU the year after I got my job here. Of course my parent's didn't see it like that. They didn't like the fact we had Jesse before we got married, either."

"So how long did it take for them to like him?" Taylor asked, leaning back against the counter.

"When they heard about you," Paige offered with a shrug. "Dad has thing against reporters. He thinks they've either been bought by the mob bosses, or that they're determined to ruin the careers of every police officer. Mom doesn't like them because she thinks they're dangerous."

"So you're saying that if I would probably have gotten a better reaction from them if I sold my body for a living?" Taylor asked, pulling a face.

Paige shook her head. "You're dating their son. You weren't really going to get a brilliant reaction anyway. Don't worry too much. They'll come around eventually."

"Even though they blame me for the bomb which nearly killed Don."

Paige sat down opposite and took a large sip of her drink. "Well, maybe eventually is going to be later, rather than sooner."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Taylor muttered.

"Well, Jesse likes you. And if Jesse likes you, than that's good enough for me."

"I don't think that will be good enough for Don," Taylor sighed.

"Meh," said Paige, wafting her hand. "He doesn't bring many people to see me. Besides, Donnie is Mom and Dad's pride and joy. They'll not want to risk losing him."

"So," said Taylor, changing the subject. "Don's not told me much about you."

Paige laughed. "Nope, he's told me next to nothing about you, either. That sounds about right for him."

"What sounds about right for whom?" came Damon's voice as he entered the kitchen followed closely by Flack. "You see that," he said, addressing Flack. "We leave the women alone for five minutes and they're already comparing notes."

"Damon, darling, we have better things to talk about than you two," Paige told them with a discreet wink at Taylor.

"And what would be more interesting than the strapping young men in the house?"

"Socks," Taylor deadpanned.

"And ice cubes," Paige added.

"Socks and ice cubes?" Flack repeated. "I told you they were both crazy."

"And on that note, I'm sure you and Taylor would like to freshen up, maybe have a nap, before supper. Damon's going to get a barbeque going, seeing as it's so nice out."

"Don't worry," Damon added. "You can make as much noise as you want. The guest room is at the far end of the house. We can't hear anything."

"Ew! Damon!" Paige cried. "That's my big brother there. Don't be so gross!"

"And that's my wife," Damon joked as Taylor handed Jesse back to his mother and joined Flack. "Twenty seven years young and a mother of two."

. . .

Taylor was still smiling even as she got out of the shower some time later. "What's got you so happy?" asked Flack from the bed where he had been napping.

"Socks and ice cubes," Taylor murmured, lying down beside him.

"You actually are crazy, aren't you?"

"Certifiable," Taylor managed to agree before falling asleep.

It was Taylor who awoke first, her stirring disturbing Flack. He pulled her to him and began nibbling at her neck. "Don," she protested. "We can't."

"You heard what my brother-in-law said," Flack whispered in her ear.

"And I have no problem with that. It's the two year old who is watching us from the closet."

Flack stopped and sat bolt upright. "How did Jesse get in here?" he cried, spotting the brown eyes staring at him from the partly open door.


	105. Sibling Similarities

_05/05/2007_

**Chapter 104: Sibling Similarities**

Taylor and Flack emerged from the bedroom to find Damon battling with the smoke over the barbeque and Paige setting the table under the back porch.

"Outside?" asked Flack in disbelief.

"I must apologise for my socially inept city-boy brother," Paige told Taylor. "Because we grew up with a walk-up, he seems to think that nowhere else are you able to eat outside."

"I meant the fact it was nearly March," Flack told her, dryly.

"Sorry," said Paige, again to Taylor. "I forgot that my brother was capable of knowing the seasons as well as telling the time." She rolled her eyes. "Don, it's warm out, hence the fact the fan is on, and you're wearing just a polo shirt. I thought it would be nice, however, should you like to sit on the other side of the porch door, wearing a sweater because of the air conditioning, please, feel free."

Flack pulled a face. "You realise you're just as irritating as ever, don't you?"

"Genetic prerogative of a sister. I'm also right, the genetic prerogative of being female. Why don't you go and see if you can help Damon locate the grill underneath all that smoke."

Muttering under his breath, Flack headed for the barbeque, leaving Taylor sniggering as she helped Paige with the table. "Is it normally this warm at this time of year?"

"It's usually mild, but this year has been a bit of an exception, really. So where are you from, because I can tell you're not a New York native, and that's before we take the accent into consideration."

Taylor smiled. "San Diego. We're driving back from there, after seeing my family."

"Don's met the family?" asked Paige in surprise.

"Yeah, why?"

"No reason, he just… doesn't do that. He must actually like you," she frowned. "I didn't mean that to sound as bad as it did."

"It's alright. I think I understand what you meant."

"Right, well," said Paige, standing upright. "Do you fancy helping me carry out the food?"

After several trips back and forth from the kitchen, the table was nearly straining from the amount of food on it – salad, bread rolls, new potatoes, potato salad, dirty rice, and corn on the cob – and that was before the t-bones and skewered kebabs were added to the mix after Damon and Flack finally got the smoke under control.

"I don't think I can physically move," Flack groaned, after they had finished their meal.

"You're not the one with a child pressing on your stomach," Taylor muttered. Towards the end of the meal, Jesse had left the toys he and Ellie had been playing with on the lawn and clambered onto Taylor where he had almost instantly fallen asleep.

"I'd move him," Paige told her. "But I don't think I can move either. Damon?"

"Don't look at me," he mumbled. "You're the one who insisted on piling the food on my plate."

"You're the one that insisted on eating it."

"Your potato salad is heavenly."

"I'll second that," Taylor agreed. "And don't worry about Jesse. Won't Ellie get jealous though?"

"That child will be moving out at the age of eighteen. She might be shy, but she's stubborn, determined and very independent."

"That's a Flack family trait," Damon said, earning him a reproving glare from his wife.

"Speaking of family traits, isn't it time for the 'who can outdo the other for embarrassing sibling secrets' game?" grinned Taylor.

Paige cackled evilly. "Has Donnie here introduced you to Charlie, his pet cat?"

Taylor frowned. "Hang on, he's allergic to cats."

"And he's also sitting right here," Flack objected. "So we can stop with this story."

Somewhere, a light bulb turned on in Taylor's mind. "A cat called Charlie who used to be his best friend?"

"How do you know about Charlie?" Flack asked slowly.

"Flack, if it wasn't for the fact I had a sleeping child in my arms and was still exceptionally full from such a wonderful meal, I would be getting up and smacking you upside the head right now."

"What have I done to deserve that?" he whined.

"Tequila!" she glared at him over the table.

"Tequila?"

"Me, you, Danny and Lindsay, and a bottle of tequila, and a bar we're probably not welcome back in. Ringing any bells?"

Flack shuddered and rubbed his head. "How the hell have you managed to remember that?"

"That hangover coming back to you?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Because you owe me a penalty shot of tequila for the one you made me do."

"Hey, now I never specified what kind of cat it was," he objected.

Taylor pulled a face. "You don't even remember that night!"

"You were wearing a turquoise top with a black skirt."

"Wh…" she trailed off, the rolled her eyes. "You remember that from when you kicked me out of your bed the following morning, so that's cheating."

"Actually, you fell out, and what is so funny, Paige?" Taylor and Flack stopped, suddenly aware that the sniggering both Paige and Damon had been trying to conceal was now full out laughter.

"You're worse than us," Paige finally managed. "And we're married. Charlie was a stuffed animal."

"Charlie wasn't even real?" Taylor asked, before joining in on the laughing.

"I have allergies," Flack protested. "And we weren't allowed pets in the apartment."

. . .

The sun had long set, the crickets were out in full swing, and the table had been cleared. Jesse was still fast asleep on Taylor, who had also nodded off, and Ellie was being put to bed by Damon.

"You flew across the country to meet her parents?" Paige asked with a small smile.

"I flew across the country so she wouldn't have to do it alone. And I only met her mother there. I'd already met her father – he turned up in a case we were working back home."

"A case?"

"He's an admiral and a marine was murdered during fleet week," Flack explained.

"But still, you met her mother. You don't do that, Donnie. Does this mean you're actually growing up?" Flack just smiled at her. "Oh my god," Paige muttered. "You actually have it bad."

"I know enough to know that I want her to be the mother of my children," he admitted as he watched her sleep.

. . .

Taylor awoke early the next morning, slightly confused as to how she got to bed. She shrugged it off and left Flack snoring softly to head to the kitchen where Paige was already up, making breakfast. "You need any help?"

"You're up early. I'm making pancakes. That good for you?"

"Paige, if they're anything like the food last night, you'll never get rid of your brother or me," Taylor told her happily.

"I like cooking and besides, breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do?" Taylor asked, perching on a chair at the table.

"No, I'm actually fine. You can get some orange juice out of the fridge, if you wouldn't mind though." Taylor nodded and headed for the fridge, pulling out the jug and setting in on the table. "Damon has already left. He has an eight o'clock lecture this morning, but he said to tell you that it was really nice to meet you, and to have a safe journey home. I take it you'll be leaving soon?"

"Yeah," Taylor sighed. "Unfortunately, we spent longer in Vegas than we intended and Don has to be at work in a few days."

"Don't worry about it. I know how it gets with work. Besides, it was nice of you both to come. We're a little out of the way here."

"I smell pancakes," came Flack's sleepy voice from the doorway.

"Ah, a prime example of a man who's heart can be won by food."

Flack grinned and sat down, helping himself to the stack of pancakes Paige had set in front of him. "Not true there, 'lil sis. Because it certainly wasn't Taylor's cooking which attracted me to her."

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" Taylor muttered.

"Nope," said Flack happily.

"Unfortunately," said Paige. "He actually won't."

An hour later, and they had eaten, showered and dressed, and had just packed their things back into the car.

"Now you know where we live, I expect a visit slightly sooner than never," Paige told her brother, as she gave him a hug.

"You know how it gets with work, Paige," Flack apologised, hugging her back.

"Isn't that the reason you gave for not coming to the wedding?"

Flack pulled a face. "No, the fact you and Damon ran off to Paris and eloped, telling me after the honeymoon was the reason I never went."

"Ah," Paige laughed. "I knew there was a reason why you weren't there." She turned to Taylor. "Have a safe trip back, and look after him. He has a habit of working too much."

"I know," Taylor smiled. "Thank you for having us." She gave Paige a hug as well, before turning to Jesse. "And you, little guy, you be good."

. . .

Flack awoke with a yawn. "Where are we?" he asked, watching the wet, murky scenery go by.

"Pennsylvania," Taylor replied, "I figure we only have a few more hours left."

After leaving Baton Rouge, they had decided that if they took it in turns driving, and therefore sleeping, they could get back to New York in two days, meaning that Flack wouldn't have to fly back.

"What the hell is that noise?" Flack asked in alarm.

Taylor looked at him. "What noise?"

"The car is making a strange noise."

"That's the engine," Taylor told him, suppressing a giggle. "It's been making the same noise since we drove it out of the garage in San Diego. You just couldn't hear it over the radio."

Flack frowned, "I'm pretty certain it wasn't that loud."

"Don, it's a V8 engine. It purrs. Unless I put my foot down. Then it growls. And it's supposed to do that."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, trust me," Taylor assured him.

"Centralia?" read Flack, as a road sign went by. He grabbed the map and found Centralia. "We're a little off the route. Have you managed to get lost?"

Taylor rolled her eyes, "I had to make a little detour to get some gas. We haven't passed a gas station in miles."

They drove over the top of a hill. In front of them was a small village, behind which were miles of smoky fields, and just off to one side was a dam, behind which was a reservoir which looked grey through the fog and rain.

"Looks like a cheerful little place," Flack muttered dryly.


	106. Welcome To Centralia

_09/06/2007_

**Chapter 105: Welcome To Centralia**

"How many times do I have to tell you? It's not making a funny noise. It's making the same noise it has made since we left San Diego – it's what a V8 engine is supposed to sound like." Taylor cried impatiently as she squeezed the pump, filling the GTO up with gas.

"I don't trust a car which is fifty years old," Flack admitted.

"This car has been restored to perfect working order," said Taylor, rolling her eyes. "And it's forty years old, which makes it a classic." She stared past him at the front end of the black, '67 Chevy Impala which was poking its hood out from the opposite side of the pump.

"I don't see why we couldn't have just flown back and had the car shipped."

"Flack, there's a reason why I haven't been back to California in over nine years. And you witnessed it on the flight to San Diego. This wasn't such a problem to you when you agreed to drive back in the first place."

"That was until we drove out of the way to Las Vegas."

"You're the one that did that! Jeeze, Flack, I tell you what, as soon as I pay for this gas I'll drive you to the nearest airport and you can fly back." She took the nozzle out of the car and put it back, before storming off to the store to pay for the gas.

Inside, she headed straight for the refrigerator, pulled out a Pepsi and twisted it open as she leant back against the glass.

"That GTO yours?"

Taylor turned and found herself staring at an extremely good looking guy around her age – cropped hair, with a bit of a quiff at the front, hazel eyes and a bit of stubble. "Yeah."

"That's one nice car."

"Thank you."

He watched her finish off the bottle. "Thirsty?"

"I need the caffeine," she shrugged.

He smiled at her. "You're not planning on staying around here tonight, then?"

Taylor smiled and shook her head. "Nah, I need to get back to New York. I could make it by sunset."

Strangely, the guy looked relieved. "That's good." Taylor arched an eyebrow, taking in the guy's leather jacket and biker boots. "No, I mean, it's not safe around here, you know."

Taylor laughed. "Thanks for the concern, but I've seen my own fair share of not safe."

The guy arched an eyebrow back. "Really?"

Taylor just smiled at him, turning and pulling two more bottles of Pepsi out of the refrigerator and heading to the register, placing them, and the empty one on the counter. "And pump one, please." She pulled out her credit card and placed it down, turning to glance out of the window.

What she saw didn't make her happy. She forgot about paying, leaving her things on the counter, and stormed out of the door, nearly knocking another guy over. Not paying him much attention, she muttered an apology and stalked over to her car. "Flack! What are you doing?"

He was leant against the side, whilst someone was under the hood, pottering around with the engine. Flack shrugged at her. "The mechanic heard us, and offered to look at the engine."

"There's nothing wrong with the engine," Taylor cried in exasperation. "How many times do I have to tell you this? It's a V8. It's supposed to make that noise."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with checking it out."

"Your boyfriend is right, missy," said the mechanic, allowing the hood to slam shut. "However, sonny, your girlfriend is also right. There's nothing wrong with that engine."

"I told you so," she said to Flack. She suddenly realised that she had never paid for the gas and headed back inside.

"Everything alright?" The man at the counter asked.

"Men!" Taylor replied.

"Now, we're not all that bad," said the guy who had been talking to her earlier, a flirty grin on his face.

Taylor looked from him, to the guy standing next to him, who had a somewhat amused expression on his face. He looked similar to the first guy, although his hair was longer, and his clothing was more college student than resident bad-boy.

"Alright," Taylor conceded. "Maybe not all men. Just the men who seem to have certain trust issues."

"Now, to be fair, I'd be a little wary dating a gorgeous girl like you."

The guy next to him snorted. "Of what, all the guys using lame pick-up lines on her. That's as bad as, I love kids," he was prevented from saying much more by the first guy smacking him in the stomach.

Taylor chuckled. "He trusts me like that. It's just cars and…"

"And?"

Taylor shrugged. "Well, that's it. The other thing we finally cleared up." She signed her receipt and gathered up her things. "It was nice talking to you, but I really do want to make it to New York this evening." She left the store and headed back to the car, hopping straight into the driver's seat.

She turned the ignition, but before she could pull out Flack was already complaining. "Taylor, I love you dearly, but your taste in music is truly appalling. Can we please ditch the boy bands?" he groaned at the sound of the Backstreet Boys blasting out of the stereo.

Taylor laughed. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm driver, I pick the music. You're riding shotgun. You shut up and listen."

"So how about you let me drive?"

"Not a chance. We'll get five foot down the road and you'll claim that the tires aren't supposed to be turning like that."

Flack rolled his eyes. "I thought the engine was making a funny noise, alright? At least we know it's fine."

"Yeah, fine. But you're still not driving."

Flack rolled his eyes and fiddled with the iPod, selecting _Headlights On A Dark Road_, by Snow Patrol.

"What are you doing?" Instead of answering, Flack leant over, grabbed her face and kissed her. Taylor took in a deep breath as she pulled away. "Okay, you win." She pouted. "But you can't keep winning arguments like that."

Flack grinned. "I love it when we fight."

. . .

Several miles down the road, the car suddenly started making spluttering noises. As Taylor pulled off the road, the engine made a bang, steam billowing out everywhere. "Don't even say it," Taylor muttered as she jumped out of the car, and into the downpour that had started only a few minutes down the road, and pulled the hood up, wafting the steam away.

"Well?" Flack asked her.

"It looks like the radiator," Taylor told him. Flack groaned, kicking the car's tire. "Hey!" Taylor cried. "It's not the car's fault." Flack shot her a look. "What? You had a mechanic check it out – blame it on him." She marched around to the trunk, pulled out a bag and her purse, and went back to the front dropping the hood shut, "Come on."

"What?"

"Alright, you stay here. I'm walking back to Centralia and getting a tow truck out here."

"You are not walking back by yourself," Flack told her.

"Then get a move on. I don't want to be out in this rain any longer than I have to."

Half an hour later, they walked back into Centralia. With the black rain clouds as a backdrop, Centralia looked even more depressing. They headed straight for the garage where the mechanic agreed to go get the car.

"You dry off," Flack told her, "I'll go back and get the car."

Taylor nodded and headed straight for the only diner in the town. With the bell on the door still jangling loudly, she ordered a cup of hot chocolate and sat down at a table, dropping her head on the table.

"I thought you were leaving town?"

Taylor looked up through her soaking hair and found the bad-boy looking down at her, with the other guy, both looking a combination of worried and alarmed. "Car trouble," she told them.

"You were supposed to be keeping an eye on that," the bad-boy said to the college guy in a whisper, which Taylor caught, giving them a look.

"What's the problem?" she asked them warily.

The two of them looked at each other and then sat down at the table with her. "You need to get out of here," the bad-boy said.

"Alright, who are you?" Taylor demanded, suddenly fed up with the games.

The two shared another look, "I'm Sam," said the college boy. "And this is Dean."

"We're Detectives, and it's not safe here," said Dean.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere in a hurry. The radiator's cracked, and that isn't a ten minute job. Besides, I'm not alone," Taylor shrugged. "I have my own detective with me." Sam and Dean shared another look. "Okay, quit with the silent conversations, and tell me what's up."

Dean pulled a face at Sam –one saying, you try, I've had enough, and leant back in his chair. Sam sighed. "Do you know why what makes Centralia so famous?"

"Centralia? Famous?" she scoffed. "It's got a population of what? Twenty?"

"Yes, but the reason for that is why the place is famous," Sam explained patiently. "Centralia was a coal mining community, but in the sixties there was a fire in one of the mines, and the town was evacuated."

"And a fire makes it famous?" Taylor asked sceptically.

"The fire is still burning," Dean told her.

"And?"

"Well, it's not safe, is it?" Dean asked her, impatiently.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "If that's the case, then why are there still people living here?"

"We're trying to evacuate them," Dean cried, slamming his fist on the table.

Watching Sam fire a warning look at Dean, Taylor narrowed her eyes. "Can I see some ID?"

Clearly not impressed, Dean pulled out an ID and flashed it at her. Not quickly enough for Taylor to not catch a certain piece of information. "And why would two cops from Missouri be so interested in evacuating a town in the middle of the boonies of Pennsylvania? That is," she added, cutting Dean off from speaking. "If you really are cops, and considering your license plates say Kansas, you're probably not from Missouri, and therefore probably not actually cops."

"Is everything alright?"

Taylor looked up and found Flack behind Sam and Dean, trying to hear the conversation. She smiled at him. "We're fine," she told him, shooting Dean a glare. "Just discussing the merits of dating a cop."

Flack gave her a funny look. "Alright… well, I spoke to the mechanic, Joe. He says that he can have it ready by seven, but as an apology for not spotting it earlier, he'll put us up in the B&B, for tonight."

Taylor glanced at her watch. She really didn't feel like driving through the night, and there were certain benefits to spending another night away from home with Flack. "That sounds like a plan," she grinned. Flack returned the grin. It was evident that he had the same thoughts. Taylor rose to her feet.

"You can't stay in the B&B," Dean blurted out. "It's not safe."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "And why, pray tell, would that be?"

Sam shot his brother a glare. "It has rats."

Taylor laughed. "I've been living in New York for the last ten years. Rats really aren't that big of a deal. Now, if you will excuse me, I really want to get out of these wet things."


	107. Good Shoes Won't Save You This Time

_11/06/2007_

**Chapter 106: Good Shoes Won't Save You This Time**

The Bed and Breakfast was a quaint little home just across from the gas station, although, considering the population of the town was in the twenties, the majority of the town was just across from the gas station.

However, despite the small size of the place, it had a large, comfortable bed, an en-suite bathroom, and much to Flack's pleasure, cable TV, which he promptly flopped on the bed and started flicking through. Taylor rolled her eyes and went straight into the bathroom, to run the water in the shower hot. She stripped down to her underwear, conveniently red and lacy, and went back to the bedroom, leaning against the door. "I'm taking a shower."

"Uh-huh," said Flack, not taking his eyes of the programme he had settled on.

Taylor let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, I guess I shall have to soap this body myself.

"Uh-huh," said Flack. He looked at her, flicked his eyes back to the television, and then did a double take. He licked his lips. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"And why ever not?"

"Well, you heard that guy in the café – there are rats in this place. I couldn't let you go in there alone."

Taylor nodded. "You're right." She started walking towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To ask Sam if he wants to protect me from the rats," she told him, innocently.

"Over my dead body," Flack roared, leaping off the bed and over to Taylor, where he pushed her back against the door to the room, pressed his body against hers, and placed a hand against the door, either side of her head, "Sam isn't going anywhere near your body."

Taylor stared straight into Flack's icy blue eyes and smiled slightly. "You're right, I'm sorry. I should ask Dean. He looks like the better offer. He looks like he knows how to handle a bar of soap," Taylor sighed, still staring up at Flack. "Or maybe I should invite the both of them to join me. I'm sure I can find something for each of them to be occupied."

Flack had heard enough. He slipped his thumbs between the lace of Taylor's French knickers and the curve of her ass and clamped his hands over the firm flesh pressing her even further into him. "Not on your life, woman. The only person who's going to be having fun with you and a bar of soap is me." He brought his lips down onto her and kissed her possessively.

With his lips still firmly attached to hers, he picked her up, effortlessly. Taylor wrapped her legs and arms around him and allowed him to carry her to the shower. Cute as both Dean and Sam were, there was only one man for her.

. . .

Several hours later and there was no hot water left and more water on the floor than there should have been. Taylor was laying on the bed, next to Flack, her head resting on his chest, listening to his heart beat, whilst tracing her fingers over his still-pink scar on his abdomen. Flack had his eyes closed, although not asleep, his cheek resting against her freshly washed hair, content in holding her in his arms.

"Don," Taylor muttered.

"Hmmm?"

"I want to tell you something."

Flack peeked an eye open. "What's up?"

"I'm happy."

"Okay," he said slowly.

Taylor looked up at him. "No, I mean, you make me happy. Really happy."

"Um, any time?"

Taylor sighed. "This. I know we… I just wanted you to know," she trailed off. She had been about to tell him more, but something was holding her back. Instead, she turned her attention elsewhere and glanced at her phone and cursed.

"What's the matter?" Flack asked her, watching as she pulled on some clean underwear, a fresh pair of tight fitting jeans, a long, black camisole, and a shorter hot pink camisole over the top.

"Battery's low. I'm going to get the charger from the car."

"Use mine."

Taylor arched an eyebrow. "And where is yours?"

Flack frowned, "Oh. The car."

"I'll be right back," she told him, planting a kiss on his cheek, before leaving the room. Outside she saw the Impala. Taylor stared at it, appreciating the beauty of a classic, and then she rolled her eyes at it as she realised who it belonged to. They clearly didn't have a problem with rats.

She crossed the road, thankful that the rain had eased off into a cool drizzle. She shivered in the cold March night air and hurried to get the charger out of the trunk. Inside, wrapped in Flack's arms was a very appealing option at that moment. She shut the trunk, charger in hand, and was about to cross back to the B&B when a scream pierced the night air.

Taylor's head whipped around in the direction the scream came from. Uphill and out of the town. Forgetting about the cold, she set off at a run up the hill towards where the scream had originated from.

It turned out, that just over the crest of the hill there was nothing but smouldering trees and ground: piles of grey ash and burnt wood. Standing in the middle were a woman and a man, a couple, holding hands. However, they were also dead. Taylor could see through them. After Vegas, seeing a ghost out of New York wasn't a big surprise. That being said, Holly wasn't with these two. And neither were Maddy and Aiden.

"Please," begged the woman. "You have to stop them."

Taylor frowned. "Stop who?" she asked cautiously.

"Stop them, and stop it," the man added.

"It?" Taylor asked, a knot forming in her stomach. And then there was a bang, and it looked like something exploded in the ghosts as they disappeared. Something which Taylor noticed as a hand was wrapped around her arm and she was yanked out of the way. "What the hell?!" she cried, trying to catch her balance as she stumbled straight into somebody's chest.

"Are you alright?"

Taylor looked up and found herself staring into Sam's concerned hazel eyes. She quickly wrenched herself away from him and turned to face Dean who was staring at her, smoking shotgun in his hands. "Are you crazy?" she asked him. "You can't just go shooting things. Someone could get hurt."

"They were dead," Dean told her, rolling his eyes. "And it was rock salt, so the only thing that was going to get hurt was the ghost."

"Salt, lead – it's still going to hu…" Taylor's eyes widened. "You could see them?"

Dean looked at her like she was crazy, "Of course we can see them."

Taylor whipped her head back to Sam, "And you could see them?" Sam nodded. Taylor took a step back and narrowed her eyes at the two men. "What is going on? And I want the truth. Not some stupid story about cops evacuating a town."

"There is nothing stupid-"

"Fine," Sam told her, interrupting Dean. "But not out here."

Taylor sighed, realising they were right. "My room."

. . .

"About time you got back," said Flack as Taylor walked through the door. His happy expression was replaced with one of concern and confusion as Sam and Dean followed her in. "Taylor?"

"Don, this is Sam and Dean," she told him, pointing to the respective guys.

"Sam and Dean?"

"Winchester," Sam added.

"The cops?" Taylor had filled him on the conversation in the café.

"No," Taylor told him. "Surprisingly, they're not."

"We're hunters," Sam told him.

Flack frowned. "What on earth are you hunting around here?"

"Evil," Dean told him, shortly.

Flack snorted. "Evil?"

"They can see ghosts," Taylor explained, shooting Dean a withering look.

"We have a problem."

Taylor whirled around. Behind her was Aiden. Unfortunately, everyone in the room also saw her, and Dean reacted, pulling a hand gun out of the back of his jeans and pointing it. Remembering what Dean had said about salt bullets, Taylor reacted as Dean fired, jumping in front of Aiden and taking the bullet for her.

As Taylor fell to the floor, Flack grabbed his Glock and pointed it at Dean. Seconds later, Sam was pointing a gun at Flack. "You shot my girlfriend!" Flack cried, trying to see how Taylor was whist keeping his gun trained on Dean.

"She jumped in front of it!" Dean shouted back.

"Everybody just relax," Sam called, trying to calm the two men down. "It's just salt," he told Flack. "It's going to sting like a bitch, but your girlfriend will be fine."

As if on cue, Taylor groaned and rolled over, clutching her shoulder. "Note to self," she muttered. "Salt hurts." She sat up and inspected the wound. It was nothing more than what was going to be a bruise with a few cuts. What made it hurt more was the fact some of the salt had make its way into it.

"Are you stupid?!" Dean shouted at her.

"Hey!" Flack objected, the gun still trained on him.

"Can we all just put down the guns before someone else gets shot?" Taylor pleaded. Sam looked from Dean to her, and then sighed, putting his gun back in his jeans and hurrying over to Taylor to help her to her feet. "Thanks," she mumbled, lowering herself into one of the chairs.

With a final glare, Flack holstered his weapon.

Dean sat down in the chair opposite Taylor and put his gun in his lap. "Do you normally jump in front of guns?" he asked, glaring at her.

Taylor glared back. "Only when it's about to be used to kill one of my friends."

"Friend?" Dean cried incredulously. "It was a ghost. And it was dead. You can't kill something which is dead!"

"So I have dead friends. But you said that salt-"

"Would _hurt_ it!" he exclaimed.

"To 'kill' a ghost, you have to sprinkle their bones with salt and the burn them," Sam explained. He perched on the end of the bed. "Most people seem a little shocked when they encounter a ghost, but you seem to be friends with them."

"Yeah, what's the deal with that? Ghosts are evil."

"Ghosts are dead," Taylor said scathingly, using Dean's words. "They can't be evil. They're a reflection of what the person was like in life. If the person was evil, then so are they. Now," she said. "Why are you shooting them?"

"What's your business with them?" Dean shot back.

"Do you normally answer a question with a question?"

"Our mother was killed by a demon," said Sam.

"Can it, Sammy."

Sam shot Dean a glare, "It's Sam."

Taylor shut her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"After that, our dad raised us to hunt evil: demons, monsters, ghosts. We travel around, keeping an eye on the papers for unexplainable deaths."

"It's a real life Mulder and Scully," Flack muttered, earning him another glare from Dean.

"And Centralia is a hub of unexplained deaths?" Taylor asked sceptically. "Caused by monsters and demons and ghosts?"

"No, just a demon," Dean told her.

"A demon?" Flack repeated.

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?"

"We _think_ it's a demon," Sam inputted. "It's the only thing we can think of as to why the fire has been burning all this time."

"The guy at the desk said it was because it's in a coal mine, with plenty of oxygen inlets, and the fire service can't get to it to put it out," Flack told them.

"That is what we call a cover story," said Dean, rolling his eyes. "Jeeze, I thought you were supposed to be one of New York's finest."

"What's your story?" Sam asked Taylor, before Flack could say something back to his brother.

Taylor shrugged. "I'm a journalist for the New York Daily. Just over a year ago, I saw my first ghost. They come to me so I can help the CSIs to solve their deaths."

"So you're a real life Nancy Drew," snarked Dean.

Flack smirked. "You need to find a new one, because that's old."

"Anyway," Taylor continued. "I'm helped by my best… dead… friend, and an ex-CSI – who you shot at," she said, pulling a face at Dean. "But demons and monsters?"

"How did you end up in Centralia, then?" Sam asked.

"Needed to fill the tank up," Taylor shrugged.

"Well, Joe said the car would be ready at seven," Flack said.

Taylor shook her head, "I'm not leaving, Flack. When we were out there, two ghosts appeared asking for my help."

"I think I'm going to agree with your boyfriend," said Sam. "It's not safe."

"We can't just-"

"We can, Taylor, and we should" Flack cut her off. "Battling demons is not your job."

"Fine," Taylor agreed with much reluctance.

"Alright, I'll go talk to Joe, and you can pack up our things."

Taylor shook her head. "I'll go talk to the mechanic," she told him firmly.

Flack frowned. "I was the one-"

"Who thought that there was something wrong with my car."

"There was," he insisted.

Sam shook his head. "Actually, there wasn't."

Taylor and Flack turned their attention to him. "What aren't you telling us?"

"Sammy," Dean warned.

"Dean, they should know."

Dean rolled his eyes, "To keep the demon happy and to stop him from burning the town up, the townspeople send it a human sacrifice."

"And?" Taylor asked slowly, not sure she was liking where this was going.

"They use couples as sacrifices," Sam finished.

"All the more reason to get out of here," said Flack.

"It means that the mechanic did something to your car intentionally," said Dean. "Which also means it's more than likely not repaired."

Taylor got to her feet. "Right, well, I'm going to fix it myself."

"I should go," Flack pressed.

"Don," she said softly. "You know more about bikes. I'm the one with the 411 on cars. I'll go see the mechanic. It the worst comes to the worst, I can make a temporary patch job on the radiator myself. One that should hold until we get to another garage."

Flack sighed. "You're right."

Taylor leant over and gave him a quick kiss. "I'll be right back."

"I'll go with you," said Dean, grabbing his gun and getting to his feet. "It's not safe for you to go alone, especially if you're the sacrifice. Sam can stay with Flack."

Taylor nodded and hurried out of the door, Dean close behind her.

The car was still parked up outside the garage which was deserted. Taylor unlocked it, popped the hood and stuck her head into the engine well. She groaned when she saw that the crack in the radiator was still broken.

Dean followed her as she headed to the trunk and pulled out the tool box. "You clearly didn't learn the mechanics off your boyfriend," he said, taking the box off her and carrying it around to the front. "Younger brother?"

"Older, actually."

"Hmmm," he said, taking a wrench out. "I had you pegged for the older sibling.

"A wrench isn't going to do it," she said, pulling out a roll of duct tape. "Not if we're to leave now. The duct tape should hold for a few miles. We can keep replacing it."

Under the hood, Dean gave her a sharp look as she joined him. "A hot chick that has a hot car, and knows how to look after it? This engine is in perfect order."

Taylor smiled. "Actually, my brother restored it before… I'm driving it from San Diego to New York. I learnt everything off him." She leant over and began wrapping the duct tape around the crack.

Dean leant over. She could feel his breath on her neck. "Do you and your boyfriend always fight like that?" he asked her.

Taylor turned her head. His face was actually inches from hers. "Yeah," she told him. "But we only do it to make up afterwards."

"And the other trust issue," he licked his lips.

"He didn't believe in ghosts."

"Interesting," Dean straightened up. "I'll get some water to fill the radiator up."

Taylor bent back over to continue her patching. Not long later, she could sense him right behind her. "That was quick," she told him. Only, when she turned, it wasn't Dean. She barely caught a good look at the guy as something came flying at her head, knocking her unconscious.


	108. WWBD?

_12/06/2007_

**Chapter 107: WWBD?**

Flack finished throwing their belongings in the bags and looked over at Sam, who was watching him warily. "You are serious about this demon thing, aren't you?"

Sam nodded. "I wish I wasn't."

Flack sighed and glanced down at his watch, as he read the time, he frowned. "How long does it take to patch up a radiator?"

Sam looked down at his watch and also frowned. "To be honest, I'm not exactly sure, but Dean would know his way around an engine if he was blindfolded. And if it was going to take long, he would call." Sam stuck his hand into his pocket at the same time as Flack, and they both pulled out their cell phones. From the table, Taylor's cell started ringing, before the battery died.

"Damn," he cursed. He looked over at Sam. "Anything?"

Sam frowned back, "No. And that's not like Dean. He's only not answered his phone once before, and that was when…"

Flack didn't hear the answer because Sam was already out of the door. Pausing only long enough to grab the bags and Taylor's phone, he ran out of the door after Sam.

The hood of the GTO was still up, and despite the fact the engine looked like it had been repaired, there was no one in sight. Sam bent over and picked something up, "Something is wrong." He held up Dean's phone.

Flack looked around. "You weren't joking about the sacrifice thing, were you?" Sam shook his head. Flack pulled his phone back out and started dialling.

"Who are you calling?"

"The police," Flack told him.

"And what are you going to tell them?"

"That Taylor's been kidnapped."

Sam stared at him. "You're a cop. How would you react if someone rang up saying their girlfriend had been kidnapped?"

"I'd ask them what evidence they had…" he trailed off. He stared at Sam, and hung up, before dialling in a different number.

"Now who are you calling?"

"A friend. He's a CSI."

Sam sighed impatiently. "Look, even if you did convince your friends down here from New York, it will take them hours. And then what are you going to do? Get them to battle a demon with us."

"_Taylor._"

Flack stared at Sam, and sighed. Mac didn't believe in ghosts, never mind demons. "Never mind, Mac," he said, before hanging up without further explanation. "Well, what do you suggest?"

"We've got to stop the demon."

"What about Taylor?"

"She's with Dean – he'll look after her."

Flack looked like he wanted to say screw this and begin hammering on the doors, but if there was a sacrifice, there was no way anyone was going to give him Taylor back. "Alright, what do you want me to do?" Sam smiled and led him to the trunk of the Impala. "Holy crap!" Flack exclaimed as he peered inside.

. . .

When Taylor awoke, she had a pounding headache and couldn't for the life of her remember where she was. Banging behind her drew her attention to Dean. As she watched him trying to break a door down at the top of an old wooden staircase, she remembered everything up until being knocked out. She sat up with a groan which alerted Dean to her wakeful state. "Where are we?"

"In a cellar," he said, stating the obvious.

Taylor struggled to her feet, squinting in the dim light. "No? Really?" she asked, sarcasm lacing her voice.

Dean shot her a withering look. "I don't know, alright. I was unconscious when they brought us here. Just like you."

"I don't suppose you have a cell phone on you?"

Dean looked at her like it was the most stupid question someone could ask. He looked at the door, kicked it, and sighed, before sitting down heavily on the steps. "What made him change his mind?"

"Huh?"

"Flack, you said he didn't believe in ghosts."

Taylor shrugged. "He died."

"You're dating a ghost?!"

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Puh-lease. He came back to see me, as a ghost, but I told The Powers That Be that they were to put his spirit back in his body, and they did."

"The Powers That Be?"

Taylor arched an eyebrow. "You mean, you know about ghosts, but you don't know anything about The Powers That Be?"

"You see ghosts but don't believe in demons?" he shot back at her.

Taylor held her hands up. "Look, I'm not after an argument, I was just asking." She sighed. "And it's not that I don't believe in demons, I just didn't think they existed."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

Taylor exhaled slowly. "How are we going to get out of here?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I don't know, but when we do, we're going to have to destroy this demon."

"So, how do we kill this demon?" Taylor asked.

. . .

"There are two ways," Sam told Flack. He walked leant into the backseat and pulled out a very old, leather bound book, flicking through the pages until he came to rest on one entitled Fire Daemons. "The first is decapitation with a silver sword."

Flack looked at the helpful black and white drawing underneath the title. The demon looked like a man made out of flames, although, if the actual cowering man beside it was anything to go by, the demon was about eight feet tall. He swallowed. "And what's the other way?"

"We drown it."

"GOD DAMNIT!" he yelled. "We have no chance."

. . .

Taylor stared in disbelief at Dean. "And where exactly do we get a sword made of silver from?"

Dean shrugged. "There's one in the trunk of my car, actually."

Taylor's look of disbelief turned to one of scepticism. "You just happen to carry a silver sword around with you?"

Dean nodded. "It can kill other forms of demons and werewolves too."

"Don't tell me, Buffy is on speed dial one?" Taylor asked, dryly.

"Sam is one, dad is two, and Buffy is three." Taylor's eyes practically fell out of her head. Dean laughed at her. "Don't be stupid, Buffy isn't real."

Taylor rolled her eyes, trying to cover the fact she was embarrassed for falling for that one. "What are our chances?" she asked Dean, after a while.

Dean looked at her. "Depends."

"Depends on what?"

"If I tell you not good, are you likely to sleep with me?"

Taylor slapped at his leg as he smirked at her, "Not even if I was to die tonight," she told him.

"Right," Dean muttered. "Figures," he sighed. "Sam will get us out of here."

"You sound certain," which actually reassured her – he really did.

Dean shrugged. "I've been in this situation before."

The reassurance disappeared. However, before Taylor could mention something, the door behind was unlocked. Wordlessly, the two of them stood, ready to rush whoever was at the door. But the barrels of several shotguns pointing in their faces stopped them. Taylor stared behind the guns to their owners. The leader was Joe, the mechanic, and then there were several other men and women.

"I don't suppose you're the rescue party?" Dean asked cheerfully.

The answer was to be knocked unconscious. Taylor made to grab him before he could fall backwards down the steps. As she bowed under his dead weight, the butt of the gun made its way towards her head.

. . .

Flack looked from the timer on the dynamite he was holding, to the enormous wall in front of him. He turned to Sam, who was busy piling other sticks of dynamite in front of the wall. "You've got to be kidding me?" Flack muttered in disbelief at him.

Sam turned to take the item Flack was holding off him, giving him a look which clearly said he wasn't joking, and then added it to the pile. "We have an hour," said Sam.

Flack watched in horror as the red numbers on the display began to count down. "What about Taylor? And Dean?"

Sam stood up. "We're going to go save them."

"Do you know where they are?"

"They'll be in the mine, ready to be sacrificed."

Flack shut his eyes. "This is all a bad dream," he mumbled. "A very bad dream." But the beeping of the timer was telling him otherwise.


	109. What's That Coming Over The Hill?

_25/07/2007_

**Chapter 108: What's That Coming Over The Hill?**

Even before Taylor opened her eyes, she could feel the intense heat on her face. Gingerly she tried to focus on her surroundings, wincing at the pain in her head. She was tied up in a large cavern, the only light coming from two fiery torches attached to the wall. She let out a moan of pain as she tried to move. It just caused more pain: her arms had been tied above her head to a hook. She tried to tug at it, but as she was standing, there was no leverage.

"You alright?"

She turned her head. Next to her, tied up in the same way, was Dean. "As well as I can be," she told him. "How about you?"

"Just peachy," he told her as he tried to pull the ropes loose.

"So what's the plan?" Taylor asked, watching him.

Dean looked around, "I'm working on it."

Twenty minutes later, and Taylor was drenched in sweat, her clothes clinging uncomfortably to her. "How's that plan coming along?"

"I'm working on it," Dean repeated, tugging on his ropes.

Taylor sighed. "You don't have a plan, do you?"

"I'm working on it," he repeated through gritted teeth.

Taylor rolled her eyes and started shouting for help.

"Hey!" Dean yelled at her. "Do you really think that's going to help us? We're probably the only living things near here."

Taylor's eyes widened. "Dean, I could kiss you."

Dean grinned, "Well, feel free as soon as we're out of these ropes.

Taylor shot him a scathing look. "Aiden!" she bellowed.

"Who the hell is Aiden?" Dean demanded, confused.

"Me, pretty boy," smirked Aiden appearing in the cave.

Dean banged his head against the wall. "Figures," he muttered.

"Aiden, a little help?" Taylor asked, nodding her head upwards to highlight her arms bound above her.

"I'm not supposed to interfere," Aiden told her. "It could cost me my job."

"Aiden, if you don't, you're going to be out of a job anyway," Taylor snapped. Aiden stared at her, an internal battle marking her eyes and finally nodded.

Dean turned his head to Taylor, "Seriously, what exactly to you expec-" he stopped when he saw Aiden begin to untie Taylor. "How are you doing that?"

Aiden paused long enough to wave her fingers at him. "They're called hands."

"But you're dead!" he blurted out.

"Yeah, and I'm trying to stop you from joining me," Aiden retorted.

"Aiden is what we call a poltergeist," Taylor explained as one of her hands came free.

"But poltergeists are evil," Dean said, still staring at the ghost warily.

Aiden rolled her eyes, "That's it," she told Taylor as her other hand came free. "First he tries to shoot me, now he's calling me evil. _You_ can untie him."

"Thank you," muttered Taylor. She hurried over to Dean as Aiden disappeared, reaching up to the ropes around his wrists. "Damn it," she cursed. She was too short to reach without pressing herself up against him.

"Any other time, and I would love to be tied up with you pressed against me, all sweaty as we are," Dean smirked.

"Do you have to lower the tone?" Taylor grunted as she struggled with the knot.

"Yeah – it makes me more relaxed," he told her.

Taylor frowned in concentration, "That's good to know."

"How about you take advantage of the situation and give me that kiss."

Taylor stopped what she was doing and stared at him, bringing her lips close to his. Dean licked his lips. "It's a shame you're no longer tied up," she told him before stepping back.

"Tease," Dean muttered as his arms fell to his sides. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the cooler of the two tunnels, hopefully towards the exit.

He had picked the right one. The wall exploding next to them as they rounded the corner, confirmed that, as Joe fired his shotgun at them.

Taylor shrieked and pushed Dean and herself to the floor, landing on top of him as they ducked back around the corner. "I had you pegged as a girl who liked being on top," Dean told her as the two got back to their feet.

"You are unbelievable," she yelled at him as they ran back the way they had come from.

"Yeah," Dean shouted back at her as they dodged more gun shots. "I get that a lot." Taylor would have rolled her eyes but instead followed him through the cavern they had been held in and deeper into the labyrinth-like mine. After a while it was evident that they were no longer being followed. Taylor stopped and bent over, her hands on her knees as she gasped for breath. Next to her, Dean was doing the same thing. "We need to get out of here," he told her in between large breaths.

Taylor barely nodded as she tried to catch her breath. The heat was making it incredibly hard to do anything. She lifted her head to catch some of the breeze that was blowing down the tunnel.

Taylor looked around. The only light was coming from right down the tunnel in the direction in which they had been running – a soft flickering light which was slowly growing bigger and brighter. Taylor grabbed Dean's hand to get his attention – the fear was preventing her from speaking.

"What?" he asked her.

"Look," she managed to choke out, pointing his hand in the direction of the light.

Dean swore. "Come on," he urged, trying to tug her in the opposite direction.

"We can't go that way," she gasped, as she pulled him back. "They have guns."

"Taylor, the guns are a lesser of two evils at this point," Dean told her. "At least getting shot won't be as painful as being eaten alive by a fire demon."

Taylor looked from Dean, back down the tunnel to the growing fire, then past Dean to where Joe would be waiting. "Oh, God," she sobbed.

Dean stepped in front of her and grabbed her face, making her look at him. "Come on," he reassured her. "We have more chance with Joe. His shotgun only has two rounds before he has to reload. If we can make him fire at us, we can get him whilst he reloads." Taylor stared into his eyes. She could see herself reflected in them, and the fire behind. But she could also see that he wasn't going to give up without a fight. "Besides, Sam's still out there. He won't give up on us. And something tells me that boyfriend of yours won't either."

Taylor nodded, sniffing. "You're right."

Dean let go of her face and the two of them hurried back in the direction they had come from. They slowed as they drew near to the cavern – Joe's shadow was pacing back and forth in front of them. Dean stopped and pulled Taylor back against the wall. "I'm going to run out to the right," Dean whispered. As soon as he fires, you run out after me, but go to the left. That'll draw his attention away so I can get behind him." Taylor took a deep breath and nodded determinedly. Dean was right – if nothing else, she would rather be shot than killed by a demon. "Just in case we don't make it out of this alive…" Taylor looked up expectantly.

And then Dean leant over and pressed his lips against hers.

Taylor stepped back and slapped him. "Come on!" Dean hissed.

"Nice try Casanova," she hissed back. "But if this demon doesn't kill us, if Joe doesn't kill us, Don will."

Dean shrugged, "Well, can't blame a guy for trying." Without waiting for a response, he dashed out and into the cavern.

Almost instantly, the shotgun fired.

Taylor took a deep breath and dashed out into the cavern, heading to the left like Dean had instructed her. She dived to the floor with a shriek as the wall exploded behind her, rocks and dust landing over her. She rolled over, ignoring the fact that she had managed to scrape her side, and pressed herself to the wall. In front of her, Dean had launched himself at Joe and knocked the shotgun out of his hands as the two fell to the floor.

There was a scurry of movement as the two fought each other, and then Dean managed to knock Joe to the floor. As Dean slumped to the floor himself, Taylor dashed over to him, "Dean!" she yelled, picking him up so that his side was leaning against her.

His eyes slowly focused in on her, before focusing in on something behind her. "Look out!" he yelled. Taylor turned to move, but it was too late – the butt of the gun came crashing down on her forehead.


	110. Fire Demon

_29/07/2007_

**Chapter 109: Fire Demon**

This time, when Taylor regained consciousness, her head was resting on something relatively soft. As she pulled herself into a sitting position, she realised it was Dean's lap.

"Don't move any further," a voice commanded.

Taylor looked up. It was Joe. And the barrel of his shotgun was pointing directly at them both. She started to get to her feet, but Dean pulled her back down, "Don't" he whispered.

"I'd listen to your boyfriend," Joe snarled.

There was a loud bang and at the same time as Joe's stomach exploded, coating her and Dean in his blood. Taylor screamed covering her head and dropping it down.

"He's not her boyfriend." Her heart was racing as the blast echoed around her head. A hand on her shoulder made her jump. "Taylor?"

Taylor raised her head and found Flack in front of her. "Don!" she sobbed, launching herself at him, causing him to go flying backwards. Flack just wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"We have to move, now!" Sam ordered as he helped his brother to his feet.

Taylor pulled herself away from Flack and looked behind her. The fire was growing closer. The two of them scrambled to their feet. "Come on!" Flack yelled, grabbing her hand and pulling her after him as they raced out of the mine, just behind Sam and Dean.

The cold, rainy night air hit Taylor as a much welcome relief. She started to slow, but Flack continued running. "We need to get out of here," he told her.

"Why? The demon has Joe for a sacrifice," Taylor pointed out.

"We set the dam to blow," Sam yelled at her.

"You did what?" Taylor asked, yanking her hand free from Flack's and coming to an abrupt stop.

"The only way we are going to kill that demon is with a lot of water. We have to drown it," Sam explained to her as he and Dean hurried back to her.

Taylor stared at them in disbelief. "But that's not going to just flood the mine, it's going to flood Centralia as well."

"And the problem with that is?" Dean asked her.

"We have to at least warn the people in the town," Taylor objected.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean asked her in disbelief. "After what they did to us and the last forty year's worth of victims? They're not going to stop unless we make them."

"But there are children in that town," Taylor argued. "You can't kill innocent kids! Besides, if the demon's gone, why would they kill anyone else? They can rot in prison then."

"I'd rather they rotted in hell," Dean told her angrily.

"Dean, she has a point," Sam told him. "We can't kill children."

Taylor shot him a grateful look. "When is the dam set to blow?"

Flack looked at his watch. "We have half an hour."

Taylor nodded. "We need to at least get the children out. We can stick them in our cars. I know mine can move – yours is pretty nippy too. We can outrun the water."

Dean groaned. "Fine, but if their parent's don't want to come, I'm not forcing them. The focus is the children."

"Deal," Taylor quickly agreed.

The four of them headed to their cars – each to their respective vehicle and got in before speeding away back to Centralia. They both came to a screeching halt in the centre of town, where they all exited the cars.

"Which houses?" Sam yelled as they all spun around, eyeing up the few houses there were.

"We don't have to worry about that," Flack yelled, pointing to several men who were approaching them from the garage. "Run!"

The four of them charged away from them, heading towards the diner. The glass window exploded as a bullet went through it. Taylor, Flack, Dean and Sam charged through it, before flying over the counter and ducking down behind it to use it as a shield. Above them, the shots rained into the wall behind.

"Now what?" Sam cried.

"Anybody manage to catch how many there were?" Dean asked.

Flack shook his head.

"No," Taylor said as she crawled along the floor.

"What are you doing?" Flack yelled at her. Her hand managed to grab a hold of a large knife as he grabbed her wrist and yanked her back.

Taylor held the knife up, "I was after this."

"No offence, but against a gun, you stand no chance," Dean told her.

Taylor pulled a face at him, "I'm not stupid enough to think I can take on a gun with this thing," she told him.

"So why do you have it?"

Taylor just rolled her eyes, before slowly poking her arm up so that the tip of the blade was above the counter. "There's four of them," she told them.

The three guys just stared at her. "Get over it," she muttered. "I don't have a gun. Besides, I'm pretty certain I wouldn't hit any of them if I did. I'm going to be your eyes." Sam nodded, taking the safety off his gun, and dashing over to the register. On either side of her, Flack and Dean pulled out their guns, also taking the safety off. "There's one at one o'clock," she yelled. Dean jumped up from the counter and fired, hitting the target. He dropped down as the bullets rained over at them. "Three o'clock and ten o'clock." Both Flack and Sam fired, their bullets meeting their targets. "One o'clock," she yelled. Dean was back on his feet firing. Only this time, he didn't hit his target – there was no one there. He dropped behind the counter, a bullet just missing him. "The other one o'clock!" Taylor yelled. Dean sent her a glare before jumping back up with Sam and Flack. All three men hit the target.

"Where did you learn to tell the time?" Dean muttered as the four of them moved out of the diner.

They all stopped when they realised that there were six children waiting outside in a line for them. "Well, that was easy," said Taylor as she moved towards them.

She was stopped by Sam grabbing her arm, "Taylor," Sam muttered, using his other hand to point at the children.

Taylor stared at them. They were all aged between the age of about six, and thirteen, and, she finally realised, they were all armed with either baseball bats, knives, or chains. Taylor's mouth dropped open.

"Are you frickin' kidding me?" Dean cried, pointing his gun at them.

"Dean!" Taylor cried, "They're just kids." She shook herself free from Sam's grasp, ignored Flack who was also trying to stop her, and walked over to the youngest girl. With her blonde curls and blue eyes, she looked like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Except for the knife in her hand. Taylor crouched down in front of her. "It's alright," she said softly. "We're not going to hurt you."

She was yanked out of the way by Flack as the girl stabbed at her – not quick enough. The knife gashed her bare left arm.

"You little witch!" Taylor cried in disbelief, as the blood started dripping to the ground.

"Can I shoot her now?" Dean asked, his gun pointed back at the children, who simply stood glaring at them.

Clutching at her arm, Taylor shook her head, "They're just kids," she repeated.

"Guys, we have eight minutes," Sam told them, looking at his watch.

Taylor looked at the little girl, "I'm sorry," she apologised before using her right hand to clock her around the side of the head and knock her unconscious. As the child fell to the floor, the remaining five children began advancing towards them, trying to hit them with their weapons.

"Screw this," Dean muttered.

Dean," Taylor warned.

"Yeah, I get that I can't shoot them," he growled as he dodged a chain that was flying towards his head. He quickly turned the gun around, and using the butt, smacked it down on the boy's head. "Serves you right for your parents doing it to us!" He was rewarded by an eight year old smacking his knee with a baseball bat.

As he collapsed to the floor, Flack yanked the bat out of the kid's hand and used it to render him and another child unconscious. Behind them, the final two children slumped to the floor, courtesy of Sam. "Two minutes!" Sam yelled, scooping the two children up.

Flack grabbed another two, whilst Dean and Taylor each grabbed one, and ran for the cars. They all practically flung the children into the back seats before diving in the front.

Behind them there was a large bang, followed by a grumble, which grew louder, making the cars begin to vibrate.

Taylor slammed the car into first and floored it, the tires squealing as they kicked out clouds of smoke. Next to her, in the wrong lane, Dean was driving his Impala, both cars matching each other as they tore out of Centralia.

Taylor glanced in her rear view mirror and instantly regretted it. She could see a wall of water gaining distance on the cars.

She urged the car to go faster as she raced out of the town, instinctively taking the same route as Dean to higher ground. The cars both took off as they flew over the crest of a hill, the water licking at the backs of them, before they landed with almighty jolts. Taylor slammed on the breaks and pulled the steering wheel hard to the right, so that the car spun a 180 to a halt.

A few seconds later, Dean did the same.

. . .

The four of them stood on the top of the hill gazing down at the valley below. Centralia was completely submerged, as was the rest of the valley. The only clue that anything had been there were the wisps of steam, and the road in front of the emerging from the water. Overcome with exhaustion, Taylor sank to the ground. One by one, the three men mimicked her.

"Let me look at that," Dean mumbled. He sounded as tired as she did, she realised, as he took her arm and looked down at the cut. It was still bleeding, although the flow had slowed.

"You know about cuts?" Flack asked him, looking at the wound.

Dean nodded, "Frequently have to patch myself up." He looked up at Taylor, "I think it really needs stitches. And I'm sorry to say that I think it's going to scar."

Taylor sighed and leant back against Flack and looked over the water, which was now beginning to turn pink from reflecting the rising sun. "I guess Centralia left its mark."


	111. Friends For Life

_29/07/2007_

**Chapter 110: Friends For Life**

When Taylor awoke, the sun was rising. Momentarily confused, she realised she had slept through the day, and the night.

Dean had bandaged her arm for her – he had a surprisingly well stocked first aid kit in his trunk… not as surprising as the mini arsenal in there with it, though.

Afterwards, they had driven to the nearest town with a police precinct. Sam, Dean and Taylor had stood back and let Flack do the talking. The officers were concerned about the six children, but when Flack had flashed his ID, they didn't ask any more questions than was necessary. All the other three had to do was agree with Flack's story – that they had found the six children walking in the middle of the road, being scared, they had attacked the four of them, and they had then had to be knocked unconscious for safety's sake. The flooding of Centralia was simply a mystery to them.

By the middle of the afternoon, they had finally made it out of the precinct and to the nearest motel. Which inconveniently only had one free room. Too exhausted to care, the four of them had taken it and all passed out on the only bed in the room.

Not finding the need to deal with the sunlight, Taylor shut her eyes and snuggled back into Flack's arms, which simply hugged her tighter. Taylor smiled contentedly as she breathed in a deep breath of air… and a scent that wasn't Flack's. She flicked her eyes open with a frown and found a somewhat amused looking Flack and Sam sat at the room's table, drinking coffee, watching her.

Taylor eyes moved from Flack's smirk to the arms wrapped around her. Slowly, she turned her head, knowing before she did exactly who the arms belonged to. Dean was completely fast asleep.

Taylor rolled her eyes and tried to wriggle away. The grip just tightened. She turned her head back to Sam and Flack, who were both laughing. Taylor narrowed her eyes and glared at Flack. "You're supposed to stop random guys doing this to your girlfriend."

Flack just laughed harder.

"Dean has this killer death grip when he sleeps," Sam chuckled.

"Why are you not bothered by this?" Taylor demanded, still glaring at her supposed boyfriend.

"Because I'm glad that's not me anymore. Besides, I trust you."

"Dean isn't all that particular with who he sleeps with," Sam quipped.

"I have standards, Sammy," Dean muttered, slowly rousing from his sleep. As he realised what he was doing, he leapt away like he had had an electric shock. Taylor moved to the other side of the bed and moved to a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard. "Dude!" Dean exclaimed looking over at Flack, "I'm sorry."

Flack just laughed at him.

. . .

A couple of hours later, several showers, and even more cups of coffee, everyone was finally feeling better. Outside, Dean and Taylor had their heads in Taylor's car's engine finishing the repair on the radiator, whilst Flack and Sam were inside checking out. "All done," said Taylor with a sigh, as she poured some water into the radiator. As soon as it had been refilled, she dropped the hood and sighed, leaning back against it to wait for Flack.

Dean did the same thing. "So not all ghosts are evil, then?"

Taylor shook her head. "And there are such things as demons." It was more of a statement than a question, but the past twenty four hours had seemed like nothing short of a very bad dream.

"There are other things that go bump in the night," Dean confirmed.

Taylor sighed. "Makes me glad that I only have to deal with ghosts, who, for the large part, are harmless."

"You're lucky, really. If you had seen what I have…"

Taylor cut him off. "I don't want to know. It was bad enough having to deal with an exorcism."

Dean's mouth dropped open. "You had to deal with an exorcism?" Taylor nodded. "And what does boyfriend have to say about that?"

Taylor stared at her feet, "I haven't actually told him, yet."

Dean nodded. He shifted so that he was looking at her, "I'm sorry I shot you."

Taylor nodded, looking down at the big, ugly, purple bruise that was peaking out from behind the straps on her camisole underneath her jacket. Dean stared at her. "What?"

"This is the part where you apologise for slapping me."

Taylor rolled her eyes, "You _kissed_ me, doofas."

"Doofas? What is this? Sixth grade?" Dean smirked. He leant over, "And I'd do it again," he whispered in her ear.

"Yeah," Taylor smirked. "And I'd have no qualms with slapping you again."

Dean grinned, "You ever get bored of the detective…you give me a call."

Taylor laughed, "Don't hold your breath."

"You'll realise that you've made a mistake one day."

"You'll be the first on the list for the wedding invitation," Taylor shot back at him.

"Will I have to wear a suit?" Taylor nodded. Dean shook his head, "I'm not a suit kinda guy."

"Shame," Taylor told him, a smile shaping her lips, "I love a man in a suit."

Dean winked at her, "For you, maybe I could wear a suit."

"Can I ask you something?" Taylor asked suddenly.

"Of course you can name your first born after me, Drew."

"Drew?" she sighed. "Not you too. And that's not what I was going to ask," she looked at the ground, "How do you deal with it all – I mean, the dead bodies, the ghosts… the things you see?"

Next to her, Dean held his hands up. "Nuh-uh, I don't do this chick-flick, pour-your-heart-out, cry-on-my-shoulder nonsense. If you need to talk, talk to Sam. He's good at that."

Taylor looked at him, and then looked away with a sigh, "Sorry." Taylor looked back to the motel, waiting for Flack to come out. She snapped her head back to Dean when she felt something being placed around her neck.

"It's supposed to ward away evil," Dean told her.

Taylor looked down. He had given her his necklace. "Thank you."

Dean shrugged. And then the flirty smile was back, "Didn't have a ring handy – I had to stake my claim on you somehow."

Taylor rolled her eyes, "You always got to ruin the moment?" She gave him a grin, before wrapping her arms around him.

"Should I be worried?" The two broke apart and found Flack and Sam watching them.

"Dude, she's been inviting me to your wedding – I don't think you have to worry about anything."

Flack arched an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

"Where are you going now?" Taylor asked the brothers.

Sam shrugged. "We're trying to find our dad. Anywhere between here and there."

Taylor smiled, "I hope you find him."

"If you're ever in New York," said Flack. "Please don't visit. No offence, but I don't think I can cope with any more demons."

Dean and Sam laughed, "Have a safe trip back."

They said their goodbyes and got into their respective cars, gave each other a final wave before heading out in the opposite directions. A few miles down the road, Flack turned to Taylor. "He's invited to our wedding?"

. . .

It was at three o'clock the following day that Taylor's phone rang. She picked it up and looked at the ID. Instead of a name, there was a number: 1-866-907-3235. Not having a clue who it was, she answered it hesitantly, "Hello?"

_"Drew?"_

"No… Taylor," she frowned. The voice was familiar.

_"Ah, I have got the right number. Drew, it's Dean."_

"Oh my god, is everything alright?"

_"Yeah, it's fine."_

Taylor's eyes narrowed. "How did you get this number?"

_"I'm a detective."_

Taylor laughed, "No, you're not. So what is this about?"

There was a long pause down the phone, _"I… uh… I just, uh, wanted you to know, that uh, if you need to talk, I'm here."_

"I thought you let Sam do the talking?"

"_Yeah, and he says hi, by the way, but_," if Dean was standing in front of her, she figured he'd be staring at the floor by now, "_I'll listen._"

"Really?"

_"Yeah, but, uh, you might not get the best response from me."_

"Why?" Taylor asked suspiciously.

_"I told you, I don't do talking."_

"No, I mean, why listen now? Why wouldn't you talk yesterday?"

_"Several reasons. To get Sam to stop nagging, I kinda felt bad, and it sounds like you don't talk to anyone anyway."_

Taylor sighed and sank into the couch, "You're right. I don't."

_"Why don't you talk to that boyfriend of yours?"_

"I don't know. I guess I just don't" know how to. He's dealt with death for years, and I'm new to it. And how do you start a conversation like that? Hi, honey, how was your day? Mine was alright except for the fact I saw another ghost, only this time, it was of a child and she had been starved to death. Yeah, that's a great conversation starter…"

A good few hours later, and Taylor was feeling like a small weight she hadn't even realised was there, had been lifted off her chest. True to his word, Dean wasn't much of a talker, but as he had been driving through Indiana, with Sam fast asleep next to him, he had listened to everything she had poured down the phone.

"Thanks, Dean."

_"No worries. Look,_" there was a pause, "_Are we done with all this pouring-your-heart-out crap?"_

Several hundred miles away Taylor found herself smiling. "Yeah."

_"Good, because, and no offence, but next time, you're talking to Sam."_

"You know, Dean, if you ever want the favour returned, you can always just call," Taylor told him with a small smile.

_"Um, not likely to happen. I don't do talking."_

"No, but when you do, I'll listen."

_Hey, Taylor?"_

"Yeah?"

_"You still with your boyfriend?"_

Taylor rolled her eyes, "No, we had a huge fight and split up," she told him dryly.

Dean chuckled, _"I knew you two weren't meant to be. _" He grew serious, _"Look, Taylor, I joke around, but the guy trusts you. And you trust him. Maybe you should have this conversation with him."_

"You know what, maybe you're right."

_"I've got to go. Sam's stirring – I don't want him to know about this conversation – it'll do no good for my reputation. And by the way, you tell anyone about this, and I _will_ deny it."_

Taylor laughed. "Bye, Dean. Say hi to Sam."

The two hung up after promises of keeping in touch. Taylor put her phone down and headed to the kitchen for a drink. One thing was for certain – she felt better, and maybe it was time to have that conversation with Flack.


	112. Crime Just Got Sexy

_Spoliers for 2x22: Stealing Home_

_30/07/2007_

**Chapter 111: Crime Just Got Sexy**

After not seeing Marty all weekend, Taylor decided to pay him a visit at the morgue to see how he was doing and to fill him in on the latest developments in the supernatural genre. And for the first time ever, she drove in. She parked up and headed downstairs to the morgue. It was empty, short of an orderly who was moving a body, so, ignoring him, Taylor carried on through to the offices.

"I see it's true what they say about fame," the orderly's voice carried across the morgue behind her.

"Excuse me?" Taylor asked in disbelief, stopping in her tracks.

"You get famous and you ignore your friends," he continued.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Taylor asked, spinning around to confront the orderly. "Louie?" she gasped in surprise. "What on Earth are you doing here?"

"In terms of greetings, you're not about to be short listed for an award there, Drew," he laughed.

Taylor arched an eyebrow at him, "Drew? Don't you ever let anyone convince you you're not Danny's brother."

"That's our award-winning patented charm you're knocking there," he told her before pulling her into a hug.

"Seriously," she smiled as she pulled away. "Do you work here now?"

Louie nodded, "its all part of my probation."

"Probation?" Taylor's mouth dropped open. "Aw crap, Louie. Your court case was last week. What happened?"

"I'm on probation for a year. I have to wear a tracking device, though," he pulled up his pant leg to show her the device strapped around his ankle. "And I'm not allowed to leave the city."

"How did you manage to get a job here?"

"Mac," said Louie simply. "It was because of him the judge agreed – I was all set to be sent down, but Mac said that I could come here under his supervision, and two weekly meetings with a probation officer, and the judge agreed. Mac's even arranging for me to get my high school diploma in evening classes. I can understand why Danny looks up to him so much. He's a really good man."

"That's really fantastic news, Louie," Taylor beamed. "What happened with Sonny?"

"He still hasn't had his trial, but he's been refused bail."

"Is there a date set?" Taylor asked, curious.

"Beginning of November."

Taylor took a deep breath and changed the subject. "Have you seen Marty?"

"He's in St Louis," Louie shrugged.

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "What? Why? When?"

Before Louie could answer, a woman with long dark hair popped her head around the door. "Ah, there you are Louie," she said, her crisp English accent clipping at the words. "There's a body that's about to be dropped off." She gave Taylor a searching stare before smiling and ducking out of the room.

Taylor turned to Louie. "Who was that?"

"Dr. Peyton Driscoll, the new ME."

Taylor's face fell as she processed the news, "She's never Marty's replacement?"

Louie shrugged at her. "Kind of. Marty is teaching at Washington University Monday through Wednesday, and working here Thursday through Saturday."

"Next you be telling me Mac is no longer single."

Louie laughed, "I know things have changed, but I don't think they've changed that much."

"What are you doing this evening? You fancy coming around for a meal?"

"I think I'd better give it a miss," Louie told her, "I value my life."

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "Please tell me you did not just say what I thought you said?"

"Well, Danny did tell me all about your culinary skills."

"I was going to get take-out, thank you very much," Taylor told him indignantly.

"I was actually referring to my parole officer. I have to meet her tonight."

"Oh," Taylor's expression softened. "Well, alright then."

"Louie!" A male ME's voice echoed through the morgue. "It's here. And you have got to see this!"

Taylor and Louie looked at each other before dashing to the back door. On a gurney was…

"A mermaid?" Taylor blurted out. "Now I really have seen everything."

"Taylor, I'm pretty certain it isn't a real mermaid," Louie muttered with a grin.

"He's right," Sid told him, appearing from behind. "From what I can gather, it's a woman in a mermaid suit."

Taylor smiled in embarrassment. "I knew that. I was just checking to see if Louie did."

"Of course you did, my dear," Sid nodded. "And much as I always enjoy the pleasure of your company, you should probably know that I'm about to perform her autopsy."

Taylor was out of there in an instant.

. . .

"You're looking a little wet," Taylor grinned as she headed up to the crime lab and spotted Danny walking down the hallway with Hawkes.

"If it isn't our resident _sexy_ celebrity," Danny grinned.

Taylor glanced over at Hawkes. That was not the smart-Alec comeback she was expecting. "Come again?"

"You're not going to abandon us now that you're famous, are you?" Danny continued, preventing Hawkes from doing much more than shrug in response.

"Messer, are you on crack?" Taylor asked in confusion.

Danny's grin was one that could well rival the Cheshire Cat's. "You really don't have a clue, do you?"

Taylor stared blankly at him. "You mean that's supposed to make sense?"

"Right!" Danny cried. "We're going for a drive. You coming, Hawkes?"

Hawkes smiled. "I wouldn't miss this!" He followed Taylor, who was practically being dragged through the lab by Danny.

"Ah, so here's my _sexy_ crime writer," grinned Flack as he spotted them at the elevator.

Before Taylor could voice her increasing confusion, one of the gossip queens ran over to her thrusting a pad and paper in her hands. "Can I have your autograph?" she gushed.

"Have I slept a week away, or something?" Taylor asked the lab tech, Mandy.

"No. Why?" Mandy asked, looking just as confused as Taylor.

"Because you're a week early for April Fools," Taylor snapped. As Mandy stormed off, Taylor turned to the three men who were not trying to hide their amusement. "Seriously, has there been a solvent spillage in the lab, because you've all got to be high!"

"You don't know?" Flack asked in surprise.

"Not a clue," Danny told him, answering for Taylor. "I'm going to show her now."

"Show me what?" Taylor asked impatiently. The response that she got was to be blindfolded and bundled into the back of Danny's SUV. A short car journey later and Taylor was helped out of the car and the blindfold removed. "Time Square?" she asked, even more confused. Danny pointed at something. Following his outstretched hand Taylor found herself at an eighty foot image suspended down the side of one of the buildings of… _herself_. Her jaw practically hit the floor. "Are you fricking kidding?"

It was obviously from the photo shoot several weeks ago, but Taylor didn't remember the top showing that much cleavage, nor the skirt being that short. Next to the image of her was the caption, _Taylor Turner, Crime Files: Crime Just Got Sexy_.

Taylor turned and held her arms out to Flack. "Arrest me now!"

"What for?" he laughed.

"Conspiracy to murder – because if you don't it's going to be straight up murder when I lay my hands on Alex and Sasha."

"It's not that bad," Hawkes chuckled.

"Not that bad?! I have a ten foot cleavage on display to the whole city!" she shrieked.

"I'm not complaining," a random passer-by commented.

Taylor stared after him. "Screw this," she muttered, turning and starting to leave. She stopped when she saw herself drive past on the side of a bus. "A bus?!" She turned back to the three men who were trying hard to stop laughing. "It's been nice knowing you."

"Where are you going?" Flack asked.

"The Brooklyn Bridge. And then I'm throwing myself off it," she told them, miserably.

"It's really not that bad," Flack told her, still smiling as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and directed her back to the others. "It's just a few buses."

"And a few subway posters," Danny added.

"And a few bus stop posters," said Hawkes.

"Oh, and don't forget the billboard posters," continued Danny.

"Or the benches," Hawkes imputed again.

"Kill me know," Taylor begged. "Please?"

"I like it," Flack told her.

"Do me a favour and…" she trailed off when she saw the mermaid standing in front of her, accompanied by Maddy. "You have got to be kidding me," she muttered under her breath.

"Nice suit," Maddy told her with a grin, nodding her head in the direction of the giant poster.

"Don't start," Taylor told her shortly.

"Don't start with what?" Danny asked. "We started before we left the crime lab."

"It's not that bad," Hawkes told her, misreading the expression on Taylor's face as one upset about the posters, rather than the dead girl in front of her. "Al, Mel and Nigel all have posters too."

Taylor briefly glanced up at the similar posters of the sports, weather, and politics journalist, before softly shaking her head. "Mermaid," she muttered softly, pointing at the ghost in front of her.

"Tell him I'm sorry," the mermaid told her quietly, as she held out a lasso.

"I think this may be our queue to get back to the crime lab," said Hawkes as he glanced at his pager which had begun beeping furiously. "I have a DB too. Can I be dropped off at 88th and Columbus?"


	113. Now It's Mermaids?

_Spoliers for 2x22: Stealing Home_

_02/08/2007_

**Chapter 112: Now It's Mermaids?**

Taylor flung her cell phone onto the couch next to her as she let out a frustrated cry. She had been trying desperately to get hold of either Alex or Sasha since she had left Danny and Flack to follow up on the evidence, but conveniently, neither of them seemed to be answering. Grunting in frustration, she decided that maybe she should go to see them in person. And then Maddy turned up with the mermaid again. "I guess I'm not, then."

"Not what?" Maddy asked her.

"Seeing Alex. Seriously, Maddy, you know I don't like that kind of thing," she pouted, referring to the giant posters.

Maddy shrugged. "You'll get more readers. Nice car by the way. I was going to say something, but the whole Vegas and Centralia thing happened."

"Yeah, thanks for the heads up on that one," Taylor muttered, rolling her eyes at her friend.

"Well, you know the rules."

"Tell him I'm sorry," the mermaid interrupted.

"Speaking of rules," Maddy said, nodding her head at the other ghost.

Taylor took a deep breath. "Mermaids… right. Mermaids with lassoes. Are you trying to make this any easier at all?"

"It's nothing to do with me," Maddy told her with a shrug. "I know about as much as you do."

"And why do I get the feeling that's not entirely accurate," Taylor muttered as the two ghosts disappeared. "So I'm a mermaid with a lasso. What would I be apologising for?"

Deciding she couldn't do anything until she had found out who the girl was, she thought it be best to find Danny and see if he knew her identity yet. According to Adam, who only just managed to blurt the information out before dashing off, he was in the morgue with Lindsay. It was as he was leaving that she found him. "Any luck on her name?" she asked him hopefully.

"Nope," Danny replied. "Lindsay's going to process her clothing whilst I check missing persons. Taylor, can I ask you something?"

"I don't know," Taylor told him with raised eyebrows. "Is it something I want to be asked?"

"What's so special about a wheat field?"

Taylor blinked. "Come again?"

"You know? A field where they grow wheat."

"I'm pretty certain I know what a wheat field is, Danny," Taylor responded, dryly. "What I'm not sure of is where on earth you plucked this question from?"

Danny stared at her before pushing his glasses up his nose. "This morning, when we pulled the girl out of the river, I mentioned to Montana something about the view, and she compared it to a wheat field. I mean, a wheat field?"

"Have you ever even seen a wheat field?"

"That's exactly what she said!" Danny exclaimed. "It's a field of wheat!"

Taylor burst out laughing. "Maybe you should get Lindsay to show you one."

"That's not an answer, Drew."

"Sorry, Danny," she apologised, still laughing. "You're just going to have to find that out yourself."

Muttering something under his breath, Danny turned and left, leaving Taylor smirking after him. "What's so special about a wheat field?" she repeated, shaking her head. "Oh crap!" she exclaimed as she realised she had never asked him about the lasso.

Taylor headed into the morgue. Much as Lindsay wouldn't believe her about the ghost, she was sure that she might be able to shed some light on the mystery. Sadly, it seemed that Lindsay had finished with the processing and was now discussing the finer points of the autopsy with Sid. "I created a sexual assault kit just in case, but the water likely diluted any evidence," Sid was saying. He looked up when he saw Taylor, "Miss Turner. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Just here about the mermaid," Taylor told him, wishing he was Marty. "I was here when she came in. I just wanted to make sure there really weren't any mermaids living in the River."

Sid smiled at her. "Sadly there is nothing mythical about this girl. She is completely human."

"I don't suppose she was killed by something other than drowning?" Taylor asked.

Sid narrowed his eyes, "She was killed on dry land."

Taylor bit her lip. "Strangulation?" Sid nodded. "By something rope-like?"

"Hands," he indicated to the bruising on the girl's neck.

Taylor felt her sprits drop. "Oh," she sighed glumly.

"What would make you think it was a rope?" Lindsay asked.

Lucky guess?" she offered.

Lindsay and Sid shared a look. "Have you got anything else for me?" Lindsay asked the coroner.

Sid nodded and gestured to the mermaid's hands. "I did find unique scarring and calluses on both of her hands. They appear old. Difficult to tell where she got them."

Lindsay smiled sadly. "Rawhide braiding."

"I'm sorry?"

"Weaving together untanned hides to make reins for horses and lassoes for cattle. The friction and the pressure of the leather cut you pretty good." Lindsay held her hands out for Taylor and Sid to see her scars. "My dad taught me when I was ten."

"Lassoes?" Taylor repeated, feeling herself grow excited – it was slowly making sense.

Lindsay nodded. "You think Danny calls me Montana because I'm a 49ers fan?"

Sid looked at her with a small smirk. "He calls you that because he's got a crush on you." Taylor quickly looked at the ceiling, knowing that if she were to look at either of them she would burst out laughing. "Are you alright?" Sid asked her.

Taylor shook her head. "Actually," she managed as she choked back the laughter. "I'm not feeling too good." She wafted her face with her hand. "I'm going to get some air." Thankfully, she managed to get out of the morgue before she started cackling. It may be that she was the only person who knew, but slowly others were picking up on the fact. It was only a matter of time before it leaked out.

. . .

It turned out that Alex had taken his daughter to his second home in the Hamptons for the weekend which was why he wasn't answering his cell phone. Taylor had yet to find Sasha as she hunted through the building. After returning to Alex's PA and pencilling in an appointment to see him as soon as he returned, she headed back to her apartment to catch up on some over-due chores.

She was mid-way through vacuuming the living room when the mermaid and Maddy reappeared, although, with her mp3 player on, and the noise of the vacuum, it wasn't until she turned around that she noticed the pair. "For the love of all things alive!" she yelped, ripping the headphones out of her ears.

"No love for us that are dead?" Maddy pouted playfully.

"At this present moment in time? No," Taylor told her with a glare.

"Tell him I'm sorry," interrupted the mermaid.

"Tell who that you're sorry about what?" The mermaid held out a sequin. Taylor pulled a face. "Seriously?" She looked at Maddy. "Are you winding me up?"

Maddy just shrugged at her before the two ghosts disappeared.

With a sigh, Taylor unplugged the vacuum cleaner and headed back to the crime lab.

. . .

She found Danny with Lindsay in one of the trace lab looking at a sheet of paper that Lindsay was holding. "Turns out that Paul White told Flack the truth. DNA from the boat does not match Sarah."

"Her name is Sarah?" Taylor asked, joining them.

"Sarah Butler," Lindsay confirmed.

Taylor stared sharply at her. Lindsay was desperately trying to hide the fact that she was upset. Taylor wondered whether or not to press the issue, but Danny made up her mind for her.

"Any longer and I would have been calling her Ariel."

"Ariel?" Lindsay repeated.

"Makes more sense than Sebastian," Danny shrugged.

Taylor's mouth dropped opened. "You watched The Little Mermaid?"

"No!" Danny denied, quickly looking away from the women.

"What on earth were you doing watching The Little Mermaid?" Lindsay asked him with a snigger.

"Oh, shut up. I'm not completely behind on my popular culture that I can miss a Disney reference."

"I wonder how many other Disney references you can notice?" Taylor asked him.

"What has this got to do with the case?" Danny asked, trying to change the subject.

"Um, the victim was a mermaid?" Lindsay offered.

"The victim was a young girl dressed up as a mermaid," Danny corrected her. "You know, scales made of sequins? And I think we were discussing how it's plausible that the sequins we found in the bed fell off when she was changing, you know?"

"And that's the next clue," Taylor told them. "Not that I have any idea what it means, but Sarah's telling me sequins."

Lindsay pursed her lips. "So what else do we have left?"

Danny pointed at the mermaid outfit. "You're looking at it."

"Sequins," Taylor smiled.

Lindsay sighed. "Alright. Where's the sequin you found in Paul's bed?" Danny handed it to her. "Thanks." Lindsay grabbed it, and began examining the outfit. A few minutes later and she had found something. "Sequins fell off this thread. This was the only sequin we found on the bed, right?"

"That's it," Danny nodded.

"But all the other sequins have fallen off this thread, so maybe they can point us in the direction of where Sarah was attacked."

Danny grabbed a folder from the side behind them. "According to Sid, she wasn't dragged anywhere. Maybe she was dumped near the ferry?"

"Can I come?" Taylor asked hopefully.


	114. Montana Blues

_Spoliers for 2x22: Stealing Home_

_05/08/2007_

**Chapter 113: Montana Blues**

The trip to the ferry proved somewhat useful for the CSIs as they managed to find the primary crime scene and a hair grip, along with a handful of more sequins. For Taylor, it was quite boring. Sarah hadn't turned up again, and Lindsay hadn't let her past the tape, so Taylor spent a few hours watching others do the work. In the end, she had told the CSIs that she was going home where she finished her chores and went to bed.

The following morning, she awoke feeling just as tired as if she hadn't gone to sleep at all. She had been kept awake all night with a nightmare. She couldn't remember it all properly, but she was pretty certain that she was being chased down a metal corridor, or over a metal bridge. It also didn't help that she was awoken bright and early… by Sarah, who was once again holding a lasso. "Tell him that I'm sorry."

"I thought we did this clue already?" Taylor asked, bleary-eyed.

"Clearly not," Maddy shrugged.

"I want a dictionary on ghost clues," Taylor complained to her as she pulled a robe on. "How many meanings are there for a lasso?"

A quick shower later and she was back at the crime lab, still yawning. "What are you doing here so early, Drew?" Danny asked her when she joined him and Flack.

"Morning guys," she managed through a yawn. "Bad dream."

"You alright?" Flack asked her.

"Just a dream. Nothing a nap later won't cure," Taylor shrugged. "Did you find anything from the evidence you got at the crime scene?"

"We got a suspect – paid him a visit yesterday," Danny confirmed. "We got his clothing off him."

"And we're back to the clothing again," Flack moaned. "The suspense is killing me. What happened with James Vackner's clothes?"

"He must have washed them," Danny told him. "Nothing."

"You're kidding?" Flack exclaimed. "So not even trace amounts of soil on the knees?"

"Nah. But I got something better."

"What's better than soil?" Taylor asked him dryly.

"Oil consistent with the oil that leaked from the water taxi."

"Yay, oil!" Taylor said, with the same false enthusiasm as before, before she again yawned.

"So we can place him at the dump site?" Flack asked.

Danny nodded. "Found drop size stains in the cuffs of his pants."

"So what's next?" Taylor asked.

"Arrest James Vackner," interrupted Lindsay as she pushed past them and headed for the door. "It's time for some answers."

"Is she alright?" Taylor asked the two detectives.

Flack shrugged. "She's been like that for pretty much the whole case."

"She did tell me to stay behind the tape," Taylor recollected. "Which, admittedly is probably where I should be, but you guys have never really had a problem with it. Have we forgotten her birthday or something?"

"It's not for a while yet," Danny told her with a shrug. "I think this case is getting to her. The victim was from Montana."

"Oh," Taylor mouthed. "You should probably go catch her up before she decides to arrest him by herself." Danny nodded and hurried after her.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Flack asked Taylor before he followed after the CSIs.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me," Taylor told him with a smile. "You go do your job. I'm going to hang around here a bit."

. . .

Taylor had spent the time in the morgue, chatting with Louie about the new ME who she still had yet to meet properly before Sarah had turned up again. She was still holding the lasso and still asking her to apologise to someone. "I'll catch you later," Taylor told Louie before she abruptly left. Louie didn't know about the ghosts still, and Taylor wasn't sure she wanted anyone else knowing about her 'gift'.

She headed back upstairs and spotting Lindsay leading Vackner into an interview room, Danny just behind. Deciding it was better to wait to ask about the lasso she headed back down the hallway to the coffee machine thinking coffee would wake her up. Only she wasn't alone at the machine. There was another man there who clearly looked upset, his hands shaking as he tried to count out the change for the machine.

"Here, let me," Taylor offered, putting a dollar in and buying the man a coffee.

"Thank you," the man managed in a hoarse voice, his eyes still red and puffy from the crying. Taylor put in some money for her own drink and then sat down beside him. "I told her she shouldn't have come here," he told her with a sob.

"Tell him that I'm sorry," Sarah said, appearing opposite them, pointing at the man.

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "Are you kidding me?" she asked in alarm as she once again disappeared.

"I'm sorry?" Sarah's dad looked at her.

"I mean, are you talking about Sarah?" Taylor quickly covered.

"Do you know my daughter?"

Taylor nodded, looking at her coffee. "You could say that."

"It's my fault, you know."

"What is?" Taylor asked, frowning in concern.

"I should have been more supportive. If I had, then-" he broke into a sob.

"Mr. Butler, I don't think Sarah thinks that," Taylor assured him.

Sarah's dad looked at her in confusion. "Thinks?"

"I got to know Sarah," she said slowly, picking her words carefully. "And I know she loved you very much."

"I just loved singing, too," Sarah added, now appearing dressed in white.

Taylor's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "She never stopped loving you, she just needed to pursue her singing," she told Sarah's father after some persuading from Sarah. "She just wanted to make you proud.

Mr Butler smiled. "I was always proud of her. I still am."

"Don't blame yourself, Mr Butler. The person to blame is being read his rights as we speak."

"Thank you." Sarah's father got to his feet. "Excuse me, but I have to make arrangements."

"Thank you," repeated Sarah when her father had gone.

"You mean that you didn't need help catching your killer after all of that?" Taylor asked incredulously.

Sarah shook her head. "I needed help telling Daddy how I felt."

"A heads up would have been nice," she complained to Maddy after Sarah had disappeared.

"Can't do that. Sorry," Maddy apologised before she also disappeared.

. . .

Taylor stood in the doorway watching Lindsay flick through pictures of home. Taking a deep breath, she turned and headed for Mac's office. He was there, filling paperwork, and nodded her in, offering the seat opposite. "Another ghost?" he asked sceptically.

"Of sorts," Taylor told him. "Ghosts of the past," she explained.

"Lindsay?"

Taylor nodded. "How did you know?"

"Danny's been to see me already. I take it you think Lindsay is struggling with this as well?" he asked her.

"A little," she admitted. "I can understand it. I don't understand it." She frowned. "I mean, I can understand why Lindsay doesn't understand because I don't understand why Vackner did it, either. Does that even make a thread of sense?"

"It does, and I wish I could offer you some clarity, but with some suspects, there isn't a reason," Mac sighed.

"But there has to be a reason!" Taylor objected.

Mac stared at her. "Would it make you feel any differently if I was to tell you that he was abused as a child by his babysitter who looked like Sarah Butler?"

"No. Yes." Taylor sighed, "I don't know. Maybe, I guess?"

"I'm sorry, Taylor. Sometimes there just isn't a reason."

. . .

After watching Mac talk with Lindsay, Taylor knocked on the glass door and wandered in. "What's up, Taylor?" Lindsay asked her as she turned her computer on.

"I came to see how you were doing," Taylor told her, flashing her a smile.

"I'm fine. I'm just heading out."

"You want a ride home?" Taylor offered.

Lindsay shook her head. "No, I'm alright, thanks."

"Come on, I have a brand new car. You _have_ to check Maggie out," she insisted. "Besides, you guys won't let me walk home alone, so why should I let you go home alone?"

"Taylor, I have a gun," Lindsay pointed out.

"_I_ have a gun," Taylor retorted. "I just choose not to carry it with me at all times. But that's going off topic. Let me give you a ride."

Lindsay stared at her. "I'm not going home."

"Well let me give you a ride where you're going."

"I don't know," Lindsay sighed.

_Is it that important that I don't know that you and Danny are together?_ Taylor thought. "Did I mention it was a '67 GTO?"

Lindsay sighed again. "I'm going to Riker's."

"What on earth is at Riker's?" Taylor asked, pulling a face.

"Vackner," Lindsay told her simply.

Taylor nodded and then shrugged. "Sure."

. . .

"Lindsay, are you sure there's nothing wrong," Taylor asked a while later as they pulled up outside the prison. "You can tell me, you know. I'm good at keeping secrets."

Lindsay looked searchingly at her. "I know. I know that there's something you're hiding back on now, more so with Flack, than with me. But I can't tell you, like I can't tell Danny, like you can't tell Flack. I will, eventually. I'm just not ready."

Lindsay got out of the car, leaving Taylor staring after her. "Is it that obvious?" she muttered to the empty seat next to her.

She was on her way back from prison, minus Lindsay who had insisted she would catch a cab back, when she pulled over. "If this was me, I'd kill me for doing this," she complained to the cell phone she pulled out of her pocket. "But then again, I'd want someone to meet me." She groaned. "How about having a conversation with a person other than yourself?" she muttered, dialling.

"_Messer._"

"Hi Danny, it's me."

"_Hey Taylor, what's up?"_

Taylor took a deep breath. "I think you need to come and pick Lindsay up."

"_Where are you guys?"_

"I'm in the car, but Lindsay's at Riker's."

_"What the hell is Lindsay doing at Riker's?"_

"She's after answers," Taylor offered.

_"Thanks Taylor. I'm leaving now."_

Unsure as to whether or not she had made the right decision, Taylor headed home. At the last minute before she pulled into her apartment's underground parking, she changed her mind, heading for Flack's. She parked up and headed for the door, hitting the buzzer.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, it's me."

_"Taylor? You alright?"_

"Just wanted some company," she told him, quietly.

. . .

Danny stuck his hands deeper in his pockets, wondering if Taylor had been mistaken. And then he spotted her. She didn't notice him and followed the few other people to the parking lot. "Lindsay!" he called.

Lindsay turned and froze. "Danny? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," he told her as he jogged over.

"Visiting Vackner," Lindsay muttered before turning and starting to walk away.

"Hey," Danny grabbed her shoulder. "Hey, hey, hey – what's this about, Lindsay?"

"It's nothing," Lindsay told him, refusing to turn.

Danny stopped in front of her trying to catch her gaze. When she refused to meet it, he gently pushed her head upwards. "Talk to me, Linds."

"I can't," Lindsay told him.

"Come on, Montana. You can tell me anything."

"Montana?" Lindsay snapped, taking a step back, her eyes full of fire. "My name is Lindsay! Why is that such a hard idea for you to grasp?"

Danny held his hands up. "Whoa! Lindsay? What is the matter with you?"

"You wouldn't understand," she muttered, the anger leaving her.

"Try me," he told her.

"I… I can't."

Danny exhaled softly. "What are you holding back on, Linds?"

"Nothing," she told him, flatly.

"It's not _nothing_," Danny corrected her. "It's the same thing that you've been hiding since you transferred here."

"Don't push me, Danny. It's nothing," Lindsay retorted through gritted teeth.

"I'm not trying to push you, Lindsay. But when you hide something, it doesn't just affect you, it affects me too. It affects _us_. We're in a relationship – that's how it works."

"Well maybe we shouldn't be," Lindsay told him, storming past him.

Danny watched her, stunned. _Had she just broken up with him?_ "Lindsay!" he shouted, chasing after her. "What just-"

"You're right, Danny. I'm sorry," Lindsay told him, spinning around, tears filling her eyes. "I can't tell you and it's not fair to you. I can't do this any longer."

"Lindsay-"

"I'm sorry, Danny. I really am. But I can't do this to you." With a final sob, she practically broke into a run.

Danny watched her go, wondering what had just happened, and why he felt like someone had stuck their hands into his chest and ripped his heart out.


	115. Misery Loves Company

_09/08/2007_

**Chapter 114: Misery Loves Company**

Taylor yawned and stretched contentedly to the other side of the bed only to find it cold and empty. She cracked open one eye, squinting in the bright light and focused in on the clock, only to sit bolt upright. "3:15pm?!" she cried to the empty room in alarm. "Don?"

Taylor got out of bed and padded barefoot into the kitchen, spotting the note on the fridge. "I got a 419 at 5 this morning – ugh! Hope I didn't disturb you, love Don."

"I don't think you disturbed me at all," Taylor muttered in disbelief. How on earth had she slept so late? She headed back to the bathroom and took a quick shower, then, not feeling hungry, headed out of the door, making it sure it locked behind her.

Collecting her car, she headed to the precinct, calling in for a coffee-to-go from the coffee shop across the street. She wasn't surprised to find Flack at his desk. The other detective who was sat on his desk _was_ a surprise.

"Can I help you?" The detective asked her. She was pretty. Long, curly dark hair and wearing a red top.

"I'm-"

"You're Taylor Turner!" The detective exclaimed. "I pass your face every day on the subway."

Taylor smiled in embarrassment as Flack got to his feet, "What are you doing here?" he asked her. Taylor handed him a coffee in answer.

"How do you know Taylor Turner?" The detective asked.

Flack grinned. "Met her on a case, and now she won't leave me alone."

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "We can rectify that if you want to?"

"Come here," Flack laughed, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. "She's my angel," he told the detective who arched an eyebrow in response. "This, Taylor, is the department's newly fledged Angell."

"You guys are quite the comedians in this place," the detective held her hand out. "Jessica Angell."

Taylor smiled. "You're working with these guys? They're never going to let you forget your name."

Jessica nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"Well, from someone who's been teased about her name from middle school, welcome to the club. If it makes you feel any better, they'll probably come up with some lame nickname for you," she offered sympathetically.

"Nancy Drew is not lame," Flack pouted.

Jess laughed. "Don't worry, Danny Messer, one of the CSIs, has already dubbed me the Angel of Death because I'm a homicide detective."

"Charming. And yet not so surprising for Messer." Taylor told her.

"So, is there a particular reason why you're here?" Flack asked her.

Taylor, knowing exactly what he was referring to, shook her head. "Just thought I'd see how you were doing. Body at 5am?"

"Speaking of," said Jess. "I'm going to drag that parole officer in here."

"Give me a minute, and I'll be right out," Flack assured her.

"No worries," Jess told him. "It was nice meeting you, Taylor." She gave the journalist a bright smile and bounded out.

"She's remarkably perky for someone who had to be up at 5am."

"No," Flack winced, "She's still on the night shift from last night. She's remarkably perky for someone on their twenty-fifth hour. What are you doing here, then? You here to see Lindsay?"

"Lindsay? What's the matter with her?" Taylor asked, concerned.

"She's been really off this morning," Flack frowned. "Actually, I don't think Stella is doing too well either."

"Stella?" Taylor asked, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. "Have they had an argument?"

Flack shook his head. "Not that I know."

Taylor shrugged. "I'll wander over and see how they're doing. You should go and catch your partner up."

"She's not my partner, you know." Flack told her.

"Well either way, she's waiting outside for you," Taylor told him with another shrug. "I'll see you later?"

Flack sighed. "I doubt it. I reckon I'm on for a double. I'll call you later."

Taylor followed him out before heading over to the crime lab. She spotted Stella first. She was in her office staring out of her window, but, Taylor suspected, not at anything in particular. "Stella?" Taylor called softly, knocking on the door.

"Hi Taylor," Stella greeted her, smiling warmly. "You here to help with the case?"

Taylor shook her head as she sat down opposite. "No ghosts today. I came to see how you were doing."

"I'm fine. What would make you think otherwise?"

"My source would think otherwise. And he's a bit worried about you.

Stella softly shook her head. "It's nothing. He shouldn't be worried."

Taylor glanced at the clock, "Did you get a call out at 5am this morning, too?"

"Yeah," Stella affirmed as she stretched her arms.

"Come on, let's go get some coffee."

"I shouldn't," Stella sighed. "I'm waiting on a suspect Flack's bringing in."

Taylor grinned. "Well, Flack has just left the precinct, and wherever he's going, he's heading there in rush hour traffic, which, by my calculations, gives you at least twenty minutes to nip over the street to the coffee shop."

Stella gave her a stare before nodding. "Fine. But you're buying."

"You know, I may even stretch to a bagel for you," Taylor teased.

Stella grinned, "Sold."

. . .

"I may not be a detective," Taylor said a while later as they were seated in the diner, waiting for their bagels. "But I can tell something's wrong, Stella."

"I think your boyfriend's the detective. That's cheating," Stella pointed out.

Taylor shrugged, "Maybe it is. But it doesn't mean he doesn't care."

Stella smiled. "Flack's a good one."

"Yeah, he is," Taylor smiled. "But much as I'd like to talk about him, that's changing the subject."

"You know it's Mac's birthday next weekend?" Stella asked her.

"No, I didn't. But you're changing the subject again," Taylor said, giving her a disapproving look.

Stella mock glared at her. "You ever considered changing professions?"

"I wanted to be a jockey once. I was fourteen. Other than that, no. Have you?" Taylor asked, studying her friend.

Stella smiled, "Clever."

"Well, have you?" Taylor pressed.

"Last night," Stella told her quietly, stirring her coffee. "We had a case. A man was shot and the suspect was one of the wives."

Taylor frowned, "One of the wives?" How many did this guy have?"

"Two. That he was living with, at the same time, in the same house."

"Hang on." Taylor frowned and stared out of the window. "Alright," she said a moment later, turning her attention back to Stella. "Sorry, I had to have a moment to process that." She took a breath. "Was it self defence?"

"It was murder by the other wife. But there was a moment when… it was something Mac said…"

"What did he say?"

"That she killed once, she could do it again." Stella said quietly.

"Hey, I don't know Mac half as well as you do, but he doesn't think sometimes."

"But what if he has a point?" Stella asked her, her eyes were lining with tears.

Taylor bit her lip and thought about it. "Stella, how long have you been a detective?"

"Nearly fifteen years. Why?"

"Well, I may be well off base with this, but how many people have you shot before?" Taylor continued.

"Three," Stella told her quickly. "But they were all in self defence."

Taylor nodded. "Exactly. Part of the reason I could never do what you guys do is that you occasionally have to shoot people. Aside from the fact that I would probably miss and kill someone else, it's just something that I couldn't do. I have a gun. It has been out of its box twice. And the last time, it had to be taken off me because I was shaking so much."

"But I've never shot anyone in my own home before."

"Stella, you're alive because you did!" Taylor exclaimed. "And yeah, it's quite possible that you're going to have to shoot someone again, but you won't do it if you don't have to. I have faith in that."

Stella nodded and grabbed her phone which had started ringing. "Bonasera… I'm on my way over."

"I guess our bagels are to go?" Taylor asked her.

Stella nodded again. "Sorry." She wiped her eyes, "Thanks, Taylor."

"You know, I'm always here if you want to talk," Taylor offered.

"I know. Thank you." She got to her feet.

"I'll grab the bagels. I'll leave it on your desk if you're still in the interview," Taylor assured her. Stella nodded her agreement on her way out.

The bagels weren't ready for another ten minutes. Taylor paid for them and headed back to the crime lab, pretty certain that Stella would be in the interview room, but decided to go and check, just in case. She was walking past one of the trace labs when she spotted Lindsay staring through the glass walls. She was about to go in when she realised exactly what she was staring and, and nearly dropped the bagel.

It was Danny. One of the gossip queens, Tia, was all over him… and he was all over _her_. Taylor stared in disbelief as Tia kissed him on the cheek and turned to leave, only to have Danny smack her ass. Taylor could hear the squeal she made from halfway down the corridor, but she wasn't paying much attention to that – rather to Danny who was licking his lips as he watched her leave.

He stopped when he realised Taylor was glaring at him, hands on her hips. He gave her a nonchalant shrug, and then turned his attention back to whatever evidence it was that he was processing. Taylor took a deep breath and turned, heading to Stella's office. Tempting as it was to go in there and hit him, she wasn't about to do it with Lindsay in the room opposite.

Taylor was heading for the elevator, mid-way through writing a somewhat abusive text to Danny when her name was shouted down the corridor. She looked up and saw Lindsay heading for her, so she thrust her phone into her pocket. "Taylor, I need a favour," Lindsay told her.

Taylor shrugged, "If I can help, I will."

"I need a drink."

Taylor shook her head in confusion, "You're still at work."

Lindsay frowned. "I'm calling it a night. Do you fancy a chick flick, a bottle of wine, and take out?"

"Alright," Taylor agreed. Sadly, Lindsay _did_ look like she needed a drink. "You going to tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just need a drink and some company."

Taylor sighed. "Come on, let's go pick some movies."

. . .

By the time they arrived at Lindsay's the two were armed with enough takeout, wine and ice cream that they could have holed up at Lindsay's for the rest of the week. And with the amount of chick flicks Lindsay had grabbed, they had enough to keep them occupied for just as long.

By the end of _Mean Girls_, they had eaten all the noodles they could manage and had consumed two bottles of wine. Lindsay was in the kitchen retrieving the third. "Men suck," Lindsay stated, sitting down with a thud opposite Taylor.

"Interesting," Taylor mused. "Wanna expand on that?"

"Men suck," Lindsay shrugged. "Nothing more to say on that matter."

Taylor pursed her lips and said nothing, instead accepting the fresh glass Lindsay was offering, and settled down to watch _Pretty Woman._

"Fairy tales don't come true," Lindsay scoffed at the credits. Another two bottles of wine were gone, and, in Taylor's case, she didn't think she could drink much more. Lindsay, on the other hand, had a very different idea as she opened yet another bottle.

"Why? You ever been a prostitute who was whisked off her feet by a rich, good looking guy?" Taylor asked her.

"Richard Gere is not good looking."

"A million women would disagree with you," Taylor chuckled.

"Men just don't act like that," Lindsay told her stubbornly.

"Any men in particular?" Taylor asked her.

"All of them," Lindsay told her with a scowl.

Clearly not enough alcohol had been consumed for Lindsay to crack. Sadly for Taylor, if she drank much more, she wasn't going to remember anything if Lindsay did decide to tell her.

"Which are we going to watch next?" Lindsay asked her.

Taylor looked at the pile and pulled one out. Half an hour into _A Walk To Remember_, Taylor had tears streaming down her face. And so, it seemed, did Lindsay. "It always makes me cry," Taylor told her. Lindsay just stared at the screen. "Lindsay, are you crying about the film?"

"Something like that," Lindsay managed to mutter, turning up the volume.

"I know you're going through something, Linds, and I know you don't want to talk about it, but I'm here when you do."

Lindsay looked at her and gave her a small smile. "I know."


	116. Drinking The Pain Away

_12/08/2007_

**Chapter 115: Drinking The Pain Away**

Taylor awoke, confused. She was in a bed she didn't recognise, again, and she couldn't remember how she got there until she rolled over and spotted Lindsay nursing her head at the dresser. "What time is it?" Taylor asked her.

"Nearly noon," Lindsay managed.

Taylor lay back, before bolting upright, swearing loudly as she leapt out of bed.

"Please, no sudden or loud movements," Lindsay winced.

"I'm late!" Taylor yelled, slightly pleased to find she was still fully dressed.

"Late for what?"

"I had a meeting with my editor an hour ago," she explained as she dashed around trying to find her cell phone. She located it on the coffee table, behind five and a half empty bottles, and disregarding the several missed calls from Flack and Danny, called Alex. When she had rescheduled the meeting for later that afternoon, she slumped on the couch and stared at the empty wine bottles. "Lindsay, did we really drink this much?"

Lindsay appeared in the doorway. "Yeah, and I hate the fact you're not suffering for it."

Taylor smiled at her. "I can't remember what we watched, if that makes you feel better. We should do this again, without so much wine, because I think I enjoyed myself."

"I should get a shower. I have to get to work," Lindsay told her instead of answering. "You want to borrow a towel?"

Taylor shook her head, "I'll grab the tube and pick up my car later. I'm pretty certain I'm not legally allowed to be driving at the moment."

The underground wasn't far from Lindsay's apartment, and only required one change, so Taylor was home sooner than she thought, only to be greeted by Marty.

"Hello stranger."

"Hi, Marty."

"How was the trip back from Flack's sister's?" he asked her.

Taylor poured herself a glass of water and joined him on the couch, where he muted the basketball game he had been watching. "Well, it turns out that there are such things as demons, and I met a mermaid."

Marty stared blankly at her, "Come again?" Taylor grinned at him before settling back and explaining the whole story. "Demon hunters?" Marty repeated.

Taylor nodded. "Strangely, yes. But I get the feeling there's more out there. Dean mentioned werewolves," she shuddered. "If I ever have to meet one of those…"

"I hope not either," Marty frowned, "So I have something to tell you. I have a job in St. Louis."

"I know," Taylor told him. "I bumped into Louie."

Marty rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Sorry; I was hoping to tell you first."

"What are you apologising for?" she asked him. "I think congratulations are in order! When are you back out there? We should go and celebrate."

"Actually, I fly back out tomorrow afternoon. I came back because there was a shift I couldn't get out of tonight," he told her.

"You're not leaving me for good, are you?" Taylor asked.

"Sadly, you cannot get rid of me that easily. It's only until Christmas. Nine months. And I don't expect to come home to a child."

Taylor gave Marty a shove. "We've been dating three months. I'm not having children just yet."

"Uh huh, and where were you last night?" he asked her, an eyebrow arched.

"Nice try, but keep to being the ME and not the CSI. I stayed at Lindsay's," Taylor informed him as she rolled her eyes. She glanced at her watch and frowned. "Look, I've got to go in and see Alex-"

"Yeah, I've seen your face all over the city," Marty smirked. "Do you think they'd give me a life size poster if I asked?"

Taylor glared at him. "Why the hell would you want one of them?"

Marty shrugged. "Got used to seeing your mug. It will be weird without it in Missouri."

"You're a doofas," Taylor informed him.

"So you keep telling me, Taylor. But you love me really."

Taylor smiled at him, giving him a hug. "If I don't see you later, have a good flight, and make sure you give me a text so I don't think your plane has crashed and you've burned alive somewhere over the Lakes."

"I really think you need to reassess who the doofas is in this conversation," Marty retorted.

Taylor rolled her eyes at him and headed for the shower.

. . .

By the time Taylor had made it to Alex's office she was feeling much more awake. The shower and the walk to the building had done her good. It was also apparent, she realised as she made her way upstairs, that she no longer had butterflies in her stomach, although the constant smell of new paint was a grim reminder of what had happened there.

"I think I know why you're here," said Alex, breaking her thoughts. "The publicity."

"It had better be working, Alex, because I don't like it. I'm pretty certain I didn't agree to that," she complained.

Alex nodded. "Sales are up four percent this week alone."

"Four percent? Is it not time for a pay rise?" Taylor grinned.

Alex stared at her, eyebrows raised. "Taylor, you've just had a pay rise. And a vacation." He leant forward. "And I think that you need to learn how to get your work in a little earlier before any more money is sent your way."

"It's never been late," Taylor told him.

"No," Alex agreed. "But it's never been more than twenty minutes early."

"I'll make a deal with you then," Taylor offered, "I'll get my work in earlier if you remove the posters that are all over the city."

"Who is in charge here?" Alex asked her, amusement lining his voice.

"Come on, Alex," Taylor whined. "You know I don't like seeing myself all over the city."

"They're good pictures, Taylor. Sasha did a good job with this campaign. And they're not coming down. It cost me a fortune to get the four of you in Time Square." He smiled at her. "I take it you haven't been into your office of late?"

"Why?"

"You mean other than for your fan mail?"

Taylor eyed him suspiciously before leaving his office and heading for her own. Part way there, she spotted a certain Indian girl who was trying to back into an elevator. "Sasha Nehru! You get that scrawny, sari-clad ass back here right now!"

Sasha cringed before quickly breaking into a bright smile, "Taylor! Did you have a good vacation?"

"Oh, it wasn't bad, thanks," Taylor smiled sweetly at her. "Though I had a bit of a surprise when I got back."

"A good surprise?" Sasha asked hopefully.

Taylor scratched her head, "I don't know. I mean, how would you feel about an eighty foot image of yourself suspended in Time Square?"

"That was my dream when I left high school," Sasha sighed sadly.

Taylor frowned. She had been all ready to bite the girl's head off. And that was the only thing that she could have said to stop her. She shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry," Sasha apologised. "But Alex wanted to do something which would have a big impact. At least I talked him out of the commercials."

Taylor's eyes virtually popped out of her head. "Hell will freeze over before I do a commercial."

Sasha frowned. "Alex said that you were all set for CNN."

"I said it because I knew it would never happen!"

"I'm sorry," Sasha replied. "I know how much you like _Sex and the City_."

"_Like_ it," Taylor agreed. "Didn't want to be _in_ it. I mean, the side of a bus? You are so lucky that you didn't have to peel me off of one - because I nearly threw myself in front of one the other morning."

"I really am sorry, Tay."

Taylor nodded. "I know. Just promise me you'll consult me in the future."

"I will," Sasha promised. "Anyway, I have things to do. Hey, what's your take on vodka?"

Taylor arched an eyebrow. "It's not Southern Comfort. But it tastes good with orange juice. Why?"

"Because I may find a way to make it up to you."

"What, by getting me drunk?" Sasha just smiled at her before walking away. "Sasha, am I going to like this?" she called after her.

After getting no response, Taylor muttered under her breath, heading for her office. In the middle of her much unused desk was a large cardboard box. She pulled a letter out from it and ripped it open – it was a sweet letter from a little girl telling her how she wanted to be a writer just like her when she grew up. With a small smile, she settled into her chair and pulled out another. This one, however, contained a rather skimpy pair of underwear and a somewhat lewd love note.

She threw it to the side as her phone went off – a text from Danny begging her to come out for drinks that evening. She shrugged to herself and replied with a yes.

Hours later, Taylor packed the letters back into the box with a small smile – most had been quite nice – and decided it was time to meet Danny.

Ten minutes later, Taylor was slipping into a booth opposite Danny. "I see you started already," she greeted him, motioning towards the several empty bottles of beer.

"Couldn't wait," he shrugged.

Taylor sighed. "You going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to play psychic?"

"There's nothing wrong," he told her, indicating to the waitress that he wanted another beer. "I just fancied a night out, Hawkes was working, and Flack is at some basketball game."

"What about Louie? Or Lindsay?"

"Louie is at school and he has to work tomorrow," he grinned. "What's the problem, Drew? Don't you trust yourself with me?"

Taylor burst out laughing. "Whatever, Messer."

Danny clutched at his heart. "You hurt me, Drew."

"Seriously, Danny. Quit with the Drew or you will be hurting."

"You know you love it," he grinned. "Hang on, I'll be back." He disappeared to the bar, and returned a short while later, clutching a napkin, a bottle of tequila and some shot glasses.

"You want us to get banned from another bar?" Taylor asked, her eyes widening at the bottle. "Dare I even ask?"

"Nope, just drink up," he told her, thrusting a dangerously full shot of tequila in her face.

"Danny, this is going straight to my head," Taylor complained a few shots later. "I've had nothing to eat all day."

"Good," responded Danny, slurring slightly.

"And I can see that it's already gotten to you. Exactly how much did you have before I got here?"

Danny pinched his fingers together. "This much," he showed her before falling about in fits of giggles.

"Right, now you're starting to scare me," Taylor muttered.

Danny's response was to reach for the tequila bottle and pour another shot for her. "Drink and then I won't be." With a shrug, Taylor took it off him and drank.

What seemed like an hour later, although was actually several, due to the large quantities of alcohol both had consumed, Taylor and Danny were completely and utterly drunk. "Two nights in a row," Taylor giggled. "I haven't drunk this much since college and Maddy dragged me out constantly."

"You miss her?"

"Yes and no," Taylor told him, "I still see her, but it's not the same."

"You still see her?" Danny asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

Taylor smacked him upside the head… or at least, tried, missed, and slumped into him. "Doofas! She comes to see me as a ghost."

"Oh yeah," he nodded.

"So," said Taylor, quickly changing the subject. "Now that I have you suitably drunk-"

"Who are you calling drunk, Drew?"

"Looked in a mirror recently?" Taylor sniggered.

"Yeah, and I like what I see," Danny told her, running a hand through his hair. "And it looks like she does over there. Hang on, I'll be back."

Before Taylor could process the sentence, Danny was up and walking to a red head at the bar. Taylor's mouth dropped open. She had suspected with the flirting earlier that Lindsay and Danny had had an argument, but this was more than an argument. She was up in a shot, joining the conversation.

"Hey, Drew," Danny bellowed, wrapping his arm around her neck, "I want you to meet my very good friend, Nina."

"It's Naomi," the red head frowned.

"Nancy, like I said." Danny's eyes lit up. "Hey, Drew, she has the same first name as you!"

"You must excuse my friend here," Taylor apologized, dragging Danny back to the table. "You want me to tell you what was wrong with that whole scenario, or do you want to tell me what happened with Lindsay?"

"Nothing happened," Danny protested, getting defensive.

"Hey," said Taylor, holding up her hands. "Don't start with me, Danny."

Danny slumped back in the chair. "You know about me and Lindsay?"

"Danny, I've known about you and Lindsay since before you bought her that wedding ring."

Danny frowned. "How do you know about this?" he asked, pulling out his wallet, and the ring.

Taylor cracked up laughing, "I went with you to buy it."

Danny poured another shot. "You're not drunk enough."

"I think you're drunk enough for both of us," Taylor protested before the liquid was practically poured down her throat. "Enough," Taylor managed through the spluttering.

"She split up with me," Danny finally cracked.

"What did you do?" Taylor asked wearily.

"Me?" Danny cried, "I didn't do anything? I turned up at Rikers the other night to pick Lindsay up and she finished it."

Taylor sighed. "Have you tried talking to her?"

"She won't."

"Have you tried talking to her when you haven't just been flirting with a lab tech in front of her?"

Danny scowled. "No."

"So call her, and ask her to meet you for dinner." Danny dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his Razr. "Not now, Danny! It's," she glanced at her watch. "Hell, it's 1am! She's not going to appreciate that. Call her in the morning."

Danny looked at his own watch and nodded. "Well, we still have some tequila to drink," he told her, pouring another shot.


	117. SuicideGirls

_Spoilers for 3x05: Oedipus Hex_

_19/08/2007_

**Chapter 117: Grrr. Argh.**

"You could make that thing a foot bigger and I still wouldn't get the clue," Taylor mumbled to herself as she looked up from the folder she was leafing through. Sitting on the side opposite was Maddy, swinging her legs which kept disappearing through the cupboard doors. Next to her, Omen was wiggling the little plastic ghoul on her finger up and down.

Taylor sighed and returned her attention to the folder. Danny and Lindsay had disappeared to do some experiment which involved hitting foam with shoes, and thanks to the slap, Danny was not letting Taylor near the lab. _Which might_, Taylor hoped, _get the two of them talking to each other._

The folder was proving to be useless. Taylor had decided to take the clue as a metaphorical ghost, rather than a literal one, and see if there was something in the girl's history that she was supposed to find – that it was a ghost in her past, maybe?

"I give up," Taylor muttered a while later, throwing the folder onto the coffee table in frustration. "I am too tired to see the words on the page anymore."

The two ghosts had long since disappeared, so Taylor headed out to the garage. She was putting her key in the lock when she stopped, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling as she experienced the strongest feeling of someone watching her. Leaving the keys hanging, she turned around and scanned the garage, but it was empty. She unlocked the car and then gave the area one last look over before she got in and turned the key in the ignition.

A while later she flopped down on her sofa and began flicking through her mail. It looked like there was a letter from her brother – at least he was keeping his word and a handful of bills. Throwing them down on the coffee table, she leant back, and within minutes was fast asleep.

When she awoke again, it was still dark, but the feeling of being watched was back. "We have got to sort out some form of boundary or working hours," Taylor complained as she swung her feet around and onto the floor, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"It doesn't work like that," Maddy shrugged at her.

"No, it wouldn't, would it?" Taylor growled as the TV turned itself on. Taylor looked from the TV to the ghosts standing next to it before reaching for the remote and flicking it off.

Omen stared mournfully at her. "Get him, and tell her that I loved her," she told her as she wiggled the white thing around.

"You know, that didn't make any sense before I had some sleep," Taylor muttered as the TV turned itself back on. Taylor glanced down at the remote in her hand and frowned. "Please tell me this thing is not about to die on me." She hit the power button again.

"Get him and tell her that I loved her," Omen wiggled the ghost again as the television came back on for the third time.

Taylor stared sharply at the ghost. "So now watching television is going to make that make sense?"

"Get him and tell her that I loved her."

Taylor let out an exasperated sigh before turning her attention to the program. "Buffy the Vampire Slayer?" She turned back to Omen, "That's really not helpi…" she trailed off. "Oh! Grrrr, Argh."

Omen smiled, wiggled the monster once more, and disappeared.

Taylor stared at the television a while longer, watching Buffy slay a vampire, and then turned it back off. "No rest for the wicked, then," she muttered to the empty room.

She pulled back into the crime lab's parking lot a short time later, trying to battle the waves of yawns as she walked into the building. She yawned widely as she stepped off the elevator, walking straight into someone.

"Taylor?"

"Hi Don," she said, before yawning again.

"You are aware it's nearly five in the morning, aren't you?" he asked her, an amused smile on his face.

"Oh, trust me when I say, I am very aware," Taylor told him rolling her eyes before yawning again. "Very aware."

Flack gave her a reassuring smile and patted her shoulder. "You want me to pass on a message so that you can get back to bed?"

Taylor nodded miserably. "Yes, but I can't."

"You going to be in the lab?"

"I'm going to be wherever Danny and Lindsay are," she shrugged. "Actually, I'll be wherever Omen tells me to be."

"Was that supposed to sound as worrying as it was? Flack asked her with a frown.

Taylor paused and thought about what she had said. "Oh, no, Omen is the ghost's name. Actually, it was her SuicideGirl stage name."

"SuicideGirl?" Flack repeated. "Do I want to know?"

Taylor smiled. "Long story."

"How about we save it for breakfast?" Flack suggested.

"Only if you're making," Taylor told him with a smile.

"No, but I'll pay," Flack grinned at her. He gave her a kiss, "I'll see you later." He headed into the elevator. "Oh, and Danny is interviewing someone," he called over his shoulder.

"And Lindsay?"

"Ditto," Flack managed before the door closed on him.

"You were _so_ worth getting out of bed for," Taylor smiled at herself as the yawning took over again. She turned and headed to the interview rooms. Both were occupied so she entered the viewing room of the one closest. Inside, Danny was just sitting down opposite a young man.

"Y-Monster? That's your name? What's with all the nicknames these days?" Danny muttered more to himself than the suspect.

Inside the viewing room, Taylor punched the air. "Yes!"

Back in the interview room, Danny picked up a folder and swiped at Y-Monster's feet which were resting on the table. "Do me a favour Y-Monster, take your boots off my desk." With a glare, Y-Monster did as he said. "There you go, now talk to me. What's your beef with Alice over there?"

"My beef? More like her beef. She's just jealous 'cause I hooked up with her girl a couple of nights ago. We were both drunk, she was having girl problems. Guess she broke up with her girlfriend, Al. Omen and I got to talking and I became her tattoo artist. I did her chest piece for her as a favour. Help her win her girl back."

"What happened to your jeans?" Taylor stepped to the right so she could see the guy from around the table – she hadn't noticed the rip. But then again, she wasn't the CSI, and the guy looked like the sort who would wear ripped trousers anyway. Danny continued, "They're ripped, and what's that? A burn mark?"

Y-Monster shrugged. "Yeah, I burnt my jeans on the tail pipe of my Harley Sportser. Didn't burn my leg though."

Taylor didn't care. She stepped outside the viewing room to wait for Danny to come out. She was there for a grand total of seven seconds before Maddy and Omen appeared. "I got the clue," Taylor quickly told them. "And I'm not going anywhere until Danny comes back out."

"Get him and tell her that I loved her."

Taylor frowned, "Danny already took your mother on. I'm not about to do that – I get enough abuse from the dead."

"Get him and tell her that I loved her," Omen repeated.

"You're really going to make me do this, aren't you?" Taylor sighed. "Well how about you give me her number, and I'll call her?"

Omen shook her head. "Tell her that I loved her," she told her and for the first time, pointed to the second interview room.

"I already know what you're mother looks like, Taylor muttered as she moved into the second interview room. Only it wasn't Mrs. Sanders. It was, well, Taylor wasn't sure who she was. But she looked like could have been a SuicideGirl.

"You and Omen were lovers?" Lindsay was asking the girl.

The girl sighed. "At least I loved her."

"Do you know the wording Omen had tattooed on her chest?"

The girl shrugged nonchalantly at the detective. "No. I knew she was getting her chest inked the night of the show, but, she said it was a surprise for me."

"Well, I think I know what the surprise was." Lindsay showed her a photograph of the repaired tattoo. ""Til death do us part, Omen and Al. You. Apparently she loved you too."

"Tell her that I loved her."

Taylor looked from the ghost of Omen to Al. "Huh? Lindsay's just told her. You can't possibly mean Lindsay, can you?"

"Tell her that I loved her," Omen repeated, pointing at Al.

Taylor turned to Maddy, "I get that the Powers That Be like the cryptic, but seriously? Do you think there is any chance I could get something a little better than a broken record?" Maddy simply shrugged at her. "I may as well be talking to the wall, really. Hadn't I?"

Maddy nodded. "You can rant and rave. But I can't do anything. Sorry!"

Taylor yawned, preventing her from responding to the disappearing ghosts. "All I want to do is sleep," she groaned to the empty room. She turned to face the two-way mirror, only to find the interview room empty. "Great," she muttered. When she stepped out of the interview room, she discovered the corridor was just as empty. "Great," she repeated.

At the end of the corridor, Omen reappeared and pointed to the elevator.

Taylor sighed (which quickly turned into a yawn) and ran for the elevator. She managed to stop it closing with her hand, and slid in. It was empty. "Again with the cryptic?" she yelled to the empty space. However, when she made to press the button, she found it had already been pressed. She rode the elevator all the way to the ground floor and stepped out. "Now where?" she muttered.

She looked around and just caught the opaque back of a head walking out of the main entrance. Taylor dashed after her, just catching the ghost disappear into the precinct next door. "Cryptic and games? It's…" Taylor looked around at the street which was already beginning to fill up. "It's light?" She rolled her eyes and headed into the police station.

Inside, Omen was pointing to a chair. "Tell her that-"

"That you loved her," Taylor finished, taking a seat. "I got it the first time," she added, glaring at her peroxide blonde friend.

. . .

"Taylor?"

Taylor awoke with a start to find Flack crouched down in front of her. "Huh?"

"You know, you could have gone home – we could have had lunch instead."

Taylor stared blearily into his blue eyes. "Huh?" she repeated.

"Breakfast," Flack explained patiently.

"Oh," Taylor rubbed her eyes. "No, I was waiting for- Has Al left?"

"Al? The sports guy?"

Finally, Taylor's eyesight cleared, and she focused in on her boyfriend. "Where the hell did that bruise come from?" she asked, mouth dropping open in horror at the large, newly formed bruise on Flack's cheek.

"Suspect tried to escape," Flack shrugged.

"Don, you need to get some ice on that!"

"I'm fine, Tay."

Taylor's eyes widened. "You don't look fine."

"Taylor," Flack said gently, "I really am. It's just a bang and I've been hurt worse than this before. If you want to mother me, give me ten minutes and we can get out of here."

Taylor stared straight into his earnest blue eyes and nodded. "Let me fine Al."

Flack frowned. "Alright, what's the importance of seeing him, here, in the precinct, at this time of night?"

"Al is a girl, Don. She's who the ghost wants me to talk to." Taylor looked over his shoulder and spotted the girl, nodding in her direction.

Flack turned. "Alright," he turned back, "I'll be back soon." With a quick peck on the cheek, he disappeared back into the precinct.

Taylor took a deep breath and rose to her feet, walking over to the upset SuicideGirl, "Al?"

"Who wants to know?" Al asked, drinking the journalist in with a frown of suspicion.

"Um," Taylor frowned, wondering how on earth she was going to explain this one.

"Is this important, because I've had a day from hell and I really want to crawl into my bed."

Taylor half chuckled. "Trust me, the feeling's mutual. However, I have to tell you something and I'm really not sure how to."

"You open your mouth and let the words come out," Al told her dryly.

Taylor narrowed her eyes, "Fine. Omen came to see me. Wanted me to tell you that she loved you. Always did, always will."

Al's eyes began sparkling, "How did you know Omen?"

"I, uh," Taylor scratched the back of her neck. "Well, she kind of found me." Al nodded, though clearly didn't understand properly. "Look, the important thing is that you know how much she cared for you. She wanted you to know that."

Al nodded, the tears streaming down her face.

"Al!"

The two women turned and discovered an eclectic bunch of women waiting by the door. "I should go," Al whispered. She took a couple of steps then stopped and turned. "Thank you for telling me that."

Taylor forced a smile, "Any time."

"Hey Drew!"

Taylor turned to the source of the shout behind her, eyebrows arched, "I'm sure we've had a conversation about the usage of 'Drew', Danny."

"Yeah, probably," he grinned. "I thought you went home hours ago?"

"I did. But being dead, ghosts don't seem to sleep." She was about to continue when she sensed someone behind her and stopped.

"Detective," one of the girls who had been waiting for Al walked over.

"Nixon Suicide, right?" Danny smiled. "You know, you're free."

Nixon smiled back, "Never wasn't. This your girlfriend?" Danny and Taylor exchanged a look which clearly read 'not a chance'. "Cool, just didn't want to step on anybody's toes."

"Huh?" Danny asked her.

"You wanna go out for a couple cocktails, maybe knock back a couple, see where the night takes us?"

"Wow, I gotta say, that's pretty tempting, but I don't think that's such a good idea. Maybe next time."

"Being with a SuicideGirl? You don't know what you're missing." Nixon gave him another smile and turned and left, leaving the building with the other girls.

"Daniel Messer, have you been flirting with –"

"Not this time," Danny sighed, staring at where the women had been standing.

"Messer, Taylor," Flack walked over. "You two alright?"

Taylor leant back against him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her. "Yeah."

"You find Al?"

"Mmmm hmmm," Taylor affirmed as she closed her eyes. "Can we go now?"

"Where are the car keys?" Taylor only just managed to keep herself awake as she walked through the door to Flack's apartment. "You want me to start breakfast?"

"Nope," she yawned, "I just want the third bed I've slept in, in as many days, to have the one person in it with me."

"I think that can be arranged."


	118. Grrr Argh

_LadeeBear - I'm glad someone does! I try my hardest!_

_Kday89 - Marty will be back! And you'll have to see if Danny does. I like keeping y'all on you toes with my eppy changes!_

_Heidi - Well, first of all, thank you for your review! I will take pride in my story being "the worst story ever." Yes, it is long, but if you don't have time to read it, then don't. I know that the story is lacking in a lot of DL, and I do intend on adding more. However, this story is about "Taylor Turner, Crime columnist (who) appears claiming she can see ghosts". I know I wrote that there was DL, as well as other relationships, but I also wrote that "some (are) from early on, others haven't even been written yet!" Besides, you would find it if you hadn't decided that the story is "too frickin long." Whilst I realise that this is somewhat of a long reply to your review, you reviewed anoymously and I couldn't reply personally. Should you change your mind and decide to read my story, and get to read this response, I would be delighted to hear from you further. (:D)_

_Swede85 - glad to see you're looking after Danny properly!_

_SparkyCSI - I did get them, finished 7 and started 8. Sorry, but 8 is the best ever! (:p) I have changed parts, (:p)_

_meadow567 - happy to oblige._

_Trizzy - they are! And I'm appreciating Adam more and more. And trust me, it is my intention! See, here's another chapter!_

_demolished-soul - I liked it - it was different. Well, it was and it wasn't... That comment made much more sense in my head before I worte it down!_

_CharmedMummy - I had to add that... I have my plans for Snow Day... though that is a VERY long way off. Oh, and thanks for spotting that!_

_There are still spoilers for 3x06, and still thanks to my beta - the wonderful SparkCSI!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 117:**** Grrr, Argh.**

'You could make that thing a foot bigger and I still wouldn't get the clue,' Taylor mumbled to herself as she looked up from the folder she was leafing through. Sitting on the side opposite was Maddy, swinging her legs which kept disappearing through the cupboard doors. Next to her, Omen was wiggling the little plastic ghoul on her finger up and down.

Taylor sighed and returned her attention to the folder. Danny and Lindsay had disappeared to do some experiment which involved hitting foam with shoes, and thanks to the slap, Danny was not letting Taylor near the lab. Which might, Taylor hoped, get the two of them talking to each other.

The folder was proving to be useless. Taylor had decided to take the clue as a metaphorical ghost, rather than a literal one, and see if there was something in the girl's history that she was supposed to find – that it was a ghost in her past, maybe?

'I give up,' Taylor muttered a while later, throwing the folder onto the coffee table in frustration. 'I am too tired to see the words on the page any more.'

The two ghosts had long since disappeared, so Taylor headed out to the garage. She was putting her key in the lock when she stopped, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling as she experienced the strongest feeling of someone watching her. Leaving the keys hanging, she turned around and scanned the garage, but it was empty. She unlocked the car and then gave the area one last look over before she got in and turned the key in the ignition.

A while later, she flopped down on her sofa and began flicking through her mail. It looked like there was a letter from her brother – at least he was keeping his word and a handful of bills. Throwing them down on the coffee table, she leant back, and within minutes was fast asleep.

When she awoke again, it was still dark, but the feeling of being watched was back. 'We have got to sort out some form of boundary or working hours,' Taylor complained as she swung her feet around and onto the floor, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

'It doesn't work like that,' Maddy shrugged at her.

'No, it wouldn't, would it,' Taylor growled as the TV turned itself on. Taylor looked from the TV to the ghosts standing next to it before reaching for the remote and flicking it off.

Omen stared mournfully at her. 'Get him, and tell her that I loved her,' she told her as she wiggled the white thing around.

'You know, that didn't make any sense _before_ I had some sleep,' Taylor muttered as the TV turned itself back on. Taylor glanced down at the remote in her hand and frowned. 'Please tell me this thing is not about to die on me.' She hit the power button again.

'Get him and tell her that I loved her,' Omen wiggled the ghost again as the television came back on for the third time.

Taylor stared sharply at the ghost. 'So now watching television is going to make that make sense?'

'Get him and tell her that I loved her.'

Taylor let out an exasperated sigh before turning her attention to the program. '_Buffy the Vampire Slayer_?' She turned back to Omen, 'That's really not helpi…' she trailed off. 'Oh! Grrrr, Argh.'

Omen smiled, wiggled the monster once more, and disappeared.

Taylor stared at the television a while longer, watching Buffy slay a vampire, and then turned it back off. 'No rest for the wicked, then,' she muttered to the empty room.

She pulled back into the crime lab's parking lot a short time later, trying to battle the waves of yawns as she walked into the building. She yawned widely as she stepped off the elevator, walking straight into someone.

'Taylor?'

'Hi Don,' she said, before yawning again.

'You are aware it's nearly five in the morning, aren't you?' he asked her, an amused smile on his face.

'Oh, trust me when I say, I am very aware,' Taylor told him rolling her eyes before yawning again. 'Very aware.'

Flack gave her a reassuring smile and patted her shoulder. 'You want me to pass on a message so that you can get back to bed?'

Taylor nodded miserably. 'Yes, but I can't.'

'You going to be in the lab?'

'I'm going to be wherever Danny and Lindsay are,' she shrugged. 'Actually, I'll be wherever Omen tells me to be.'

'Was that supposed to sound as worrying as it was? Flack asked her with a frown.

Taylor paused and thought about what she had said. 'Oh, no, Omen is the ghost's name. Actually, it was her SuicideGirl stage name.'

'SuicideGirl? Do I want to know?

Taylor smiled. 'Long story.'

'How about we save it for breakfast?' Flack suggested.

'Only if you're making,' Taylor told him with a smile.

'No, but I'll pay,' Flack grinned at her. He gave her a kiss, 'I'll see you later.' He headed into the elevator. 'Oh, and Danny is interviewing someone,' he called over his shoulder.

'And Lindsay?'

'Ditto,' Flack managed before the door closed on him.

'You were so worth getting out of bed for,' Taylor smiled at herself as the yawning took over again. She turned and headed to the interview rooms. Both were occupied so she entered the viewing room of the one closest. Inside, Danny was just sitting down opposite a young man.

'Y-Monster? That's your name? What's with all the nicknames these days?' Danny muttered more to himself than the suspect.

Inside the viewing room, Taylor punched the air. 'Yes!'

Back in the interview room, Danny picked up a folder and swiped at Y-Monster's feet which were resting on the table. 'Do me a favor Y-Monster, take you boots off my desk.' With a glare, Y-Monster did as he said. 'There you go, now talk to me. What's your beef with Alice over there?'

'My beef? More like her beef. She's just jealous 'cause I hooked up with her girl a couple of nights ago. We were both drunk, she was having girl problems. Guess she broke up with her girlfriend, Al. Omen and I got to talking and I became her tattoo artist. I did her chest piece for her as a favor. Help her win her girl back.'

'What happened to your jeans?'

Taylor stepped to the right – she hadn't noticed the rip. But then again, she wasn't the CSI, and the guy looked like the sort who would wear ripped trousers anyway.

Danny continued, 'They're ripped, and what's that? A burn mark?'

Y-Monster shrugged. 'Yeah, I burnt my jeans on the tail pipe of my Harley Sportser. Didn't burn my leg though.'

Taylor didn't care. She stepped outside the viewing room to wait for Danny to come out. She was there for a grand total of seven seconds before Maddy and Omen appeared. 'I got the clue,' Taylor quickly told them, 'and I'm not going anywhere until Danny comes back out.'

'Get him and tell her that I loved her.'

Taylor frowned, 'Danny already took your mother on. I'm not about to do that – I get enough abuse from the dead.'

'Get him and tell her that I loved her,' Omen repeated.

'You're really going to make me do this, aren't you?' Taylor sighed. 'Well how about you give me her number, and I'll call her?'

Omen shook her head. 'Tell her that I loved her,' she told her and for the first time, pointed to the second interview room.

'I already know what you're mother looks like, Taylor muttered as she moved into the second interview room. Only it wasn't Mrs. Sanders. It was, well, Taylor wasn't sure _who_ she was. But she looked like could have been a SuicideGirl.

'You and Omen were lovers?' Lindsay was asking the girl.

The girl sighed. 'At least _I_ loved _her_.'

'Do you know the wording Omen had tattooed on her chest?'

The girl shrugged nonchalantly at the detective. 'No. I knew she was getting her chest inked the night of the show, but, she said it was a surprise for me.'

'Well, I think I know what the surprise was.' Lindsay showed her a photograph of the repaired tattoo. ''Til death do us part, Omen and Al. You. Apparently she loved you too.'

'Tell her that I loved her.'

Taylor looked from the ghost of Omen to Al. 'Huh? Lindsay's just told her. You can't possibly mean Lindsay, can you?'

'Tell her that I loved her,' Omen repeated, pointing at Al.

Taylor turned to Maddy, 'I get that the Powers That Be like the cryptic, but seriously? Do you think there is any chance I could get something a little better than a broken record?'

Maddy simply shrugged at her.

'I may as well be talking to the wall, really. Hadn't I?'

Maddy nodded. 'You can rant and rave. But I can't do anything. Sorry!'

Taylor yawned, preventing her from responding to the disappearing ghosts. 'All I want to do is sleep,' she groaned to the empty room. She turned to face the two-way mirror, only to find the interview room empty. 'Great,' she muttered.

When she stepped out of the interview room, she discovered the corridor was just as empty. 'Great,' she repeated.

At the end of the corridor, Omen reappeared and pointed to the elevator.

Taylor sighed (which quickly turned into a yawn) and ran for the elevator. She managed to stop it closing with her hand, and slid in. It was empty. 'Again with the cryptic?' She yelled to the empty space. However, when she made to press the button, she found it had already been pressed. She rode the elevator all the way to the ground floor and stepped out. 'Now where?' She muttered.

She looked around and just caught the opaque back of a head walking out of the main entrance. Taylor dashed after her, just catching the ghost disappear into the precinct next door. 'Cryptic and games? It's…' Taylor looked around at the street which was already beginning to fill up. 'It's light?' She rolled her eyes and headed into the police station.

Inside, Omen was pointing to a chair. 'Tell her that-'

'That you loved her,' Taylor finished, taking a seat. 'I got it the first time,' she added, glaring at her peroxide blonde friend.

------------------------------------------

'Taylor?'

Taylor awoke with a start to find Flack crouched down in front of her. 'Huh?'

'You know, you could have gone home – we could have had lunch instead.'

Taylor stared blearily into his blue eyes. 'Huh?' She repeated.

'Breakfast,' Flack explained patiently.

'Oh,' Taylor rubbed her eyes. 'No, I was waiting for- Has Al left?'

'Al? The sports guy?'

Finally, Taylor's eyesight cleared, and she focused in on her boyfriend. 'Where the hell did that bruise come from?' she asked, mouth dropping open in horror at the large, newly formed bruise on Flack's cheek.

'Suspect tried to escape,' Flack shrugged.

'Don, you need to get some ice on that!'

'I'm fine, Tay.'

Taylor's eyes widened. 'You don't look fine.'

'Taylor,' Flack said gently, 'I really am. It's just a bang and I've been hurt worse than this before. If you want to mother me, give me ten minutes and we can get out of here.'

Taylor stared straight into his earnest blue eyes and nodded. 'Let me fine Al.'

Flack frowned, 'Alright, what's the importance of seeing him, here, in the precinct, at this time of night?'

'Al is a girl, Don. She's who the ghost wants me to talk to.' Taylor looked over his shoulder and spotted the girl, nodding in her direction.

Flack turned. 'Alright,' he turned back, 'I'll be back soon.' With a quick peck on the cheek, he disappeared back into the precinct.

Taylor took a deep breath and rose to her feet, walking over to the upset SuicideGirl, 'Al?'

'Who wants to know?' Al asked, drinking the journalist in with a frown of suspicion.

'Um,' Taylor frowned, wondering how on earth she was going to explain this one.

'Is this important, because I've had a day from hell and I really want to crawl into my bed.'

Taylor half chuckled. 'Trust me, the feeling's mutual. However, I have to tell you something and I'm really not sure how to.'

'You open your mouth and let the words come out,' Al told her dryly.

Taylor narrowed her eyes, 'Fine. Omen came to see me. Wanted me to tell you that she loved you. Always did, always will.'

Al's eyes began sparkling, 'How did you know Omen?'

'I, uh,' Taylor scratched the back of her neck, 'well, she kind of found me.'

Al nodded, though clearly didn't understand properly.

'Look, the important thing is that you know how much she cared for you. She wanted you to know that.'

Al nodded, the tears streaming down her face.

'Al!'

The two women turned and discovered an eclectic bunch of women waiting by the door.

'I should go,' Al whispered. She took a couple of steps then stopped and turned. 'Thank you for telling me that.'

Taylor forced a smile, 'Any time.'

'Hey Drew!'

Taylor turned to the source of the shout behind her, eyebrows arched, 'I'm sure we've had a conversation about the usage of "Drew", Danny.'

'Yeah, probably,' he grinned. 'I thought you went home hours ago?'

'I did. But being dead, ghosts don't seem to sleep.' She was about to continue when she sensed someone behind her and stopped.

'Detective,' one of the girls who had been waiting for Al walked over.

'Nixon Suicide, right?' Danny smiled. 'You know, you're free.'

Nixon smiled back, 'Never wasn't. This your girlfriend?'

Danny and Taylor exchanged a look which clearly read "not a chance".

'Cool, just didn't want to step on anybody's toes.'

'Huh?' Danny asked her.

'You wanna go out for a couple cocktails, maybe knock back a couple, see where the night takes us?'

'Wow, I gotta say, that's pretty tempting, but I don't think that's such a good idea. Maybe next time.'

'Being with a SuicideGirl? You don't know what you're missing.' Nixon gave him another smile and turned and left, leaving the building with the other girls.

'Daniel Messer, have you been flirting with –'

'Not this time,' Danny sighed, staring at where the women had been standing.

'Messer, Taylor,' Flack walked over. 'You two alright?'

Taylor leant back against him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her. 'Yeah.'

'You find Al?'

'Mmmm hmmm,' Taylor affirmed as she closed her eyes. 'Can we go now?'

'Where are the car keys?'

Taylor only just managed to keep herself awake as she walked through the door to Flack's apartment.

'You want me to start breakfast?'

'Nope,' she yawned, 'I just want the third bed I've slept in, in as many days, to have the one person in it with me.'

'I think that can be arranged.'

* * *

_Ok, so, I know this was written in chapter one, but for some reason I figured that I had better repeat it. (I wonder why?!)_

_Welcome to my baby! Once upon a time I was updating daily… now, sadly, that's not the case. Life got hectic and my time for writing disappeared. I'm still writing - just not updating as often as I would like!_

_Anyhoos, first things first! If you recognise anything then it doesn't belong to me! Actually, that depends on if this is the first time you've read this fic or not! I'll try again. Taylor Turner, Maddy Almeda, Chris Turner, Cordelia Turner, Al Briscoe (and a few other recurring characters) they belong to me! The CSI team - they don't!_

_Well, the other thing is this. Anything goes! Seriously, I have cross-overs with CSI: Miami, CSI and Supernatural! (I don't think there will be any others, but never say never!) I have both Lindsay and Aiden - I bet you're curious as to how that works! There are ghosts, demons and mermaids (oh my!). Spoilers from season 2 and 3 (and what the heck - anything from season 1 goes too!)_

_Pairings, we have a FOC, some DL, some PM, HOC, SOC - some from early, others haven't even been written yet!_

_I don't have a beta until somewhere in the region of the late eighties, so mistakes up until then are all mine. One day, I will go back and edit them. But until then, I simply don't have time and for that I apologise! I also have a habit of slipping from English (UK) to English (US) - long story! Um, my languages suck - I can read it better than write it, and I'm better at the Latin based ones, but I still suck. If it needs correcting, let me know!_

_**So, thank you all for reading the worst story ever! And the virtul bar is open for you to help yourself - thanks for the 1200+ review! I mean, wow!**_


	119. Be You Angels? Nay, We Are But Men

_23/08/2007_

**Chapter 118: Be You Angels? Nay, We Are But Men.**

It was the beginning of May and the weather was warm and sunny. Taylor sighed, staring blankly at the shelves in front of her.

"You look confused."

Taylor nearly jumped out of her own skin at Stella's voice. "Stella, what the hell are you doing here?"

Stella laughed. "Same thing as you, by the looks of things," she picked a card off the shelf and gave it the once over.

"What did you get him?"

"We don't do presents."

Taylor arched and eyebrow. "Uh-huh?"

"Jazz CD and a bottle of red wine. You?"

Taylor grinned evilly. "A guard fish."

"A what?" Stella asked with a blank expression as the two women headed to the register.

"Exactly what it sounds like. A fish that sings when you walk into a room."

"Mac is probably going to kill you."

"Yeah," Taylor paid for the card. "But he'll believe in ghosts, so it'll be a win-win situation."

Stella laughed and the two women walked out of the store and into the sun. "It feels like last summer was forever ago," Stella sighed as she craned her neck up and let the sun fall on her face.

Taylor glanced at her watch. "You off all day?"

Stella nodded. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking, let's get the girls, and hope they're not working, and go get our nails done."

"Our nails?" Stella arched an eyebrow.

"Look," Taylor grinned. "Just because you guys like to do God knows what when processing evidence, doesn't mean that I do. I used to have a manicure all the time before the ghosts turned up, and it would be nice to." She held her hand up, "I mean, look at the state of them."

Stella reached over and grabbed her hand. "Taylor Turner, do you bite your nails?"

"That's why I had them manicured. If they looked good, I didn't like to bite them," Taylor sighed.

Stella gave the other woman a hug. "Lindsay isn't working. I'll give her a call."

"Would you have any objections to me asking others?" Taylor asked her.

"Not at all. Why? Who were you thinking of?"

"Jess and maybe Peyton."

Stella shrugged, "I couldn't tell you if they're not working though. Well, I take it you're on about the ME, but who's Jess?"

Taylor grinned, "You've probably been introduced to her as the Angel of Death."

"Oh, yeah, Jess, and yes, we can thank Danny for that gem."

"Oh, we can thank Danny for a lot of things," Taylor pulled a face, pulling out her cell phone. "You really don't mind about Peyton?"

"No," Stella frowned. "Should I?"

Taylor stopped scrolling through her phone book. "No reason. I just didn't know how well you knew her." She quickly turned her attention back to the phone. Maddy and Aiden had woke her up at stupid o'clock in the morning a few days before hand, to say that they'd caught Mac in bed with the new ME. At which point Taylor had asked them what they were doing following Mac, never mind following Mac into the bedroom. She had then thrown a pillow at them and told them, in no uncertain terms, that if they even tried that with her and Flack, that she would get the vacuum and vacuum them to oblivion.

"Taylor, is there something that you're not telling me?"

Taylor sighed and lowered the phone. "Yes, but I can't say anything because it's not my secret to tell, and I'm pretty certain I'm not supposed to know it either."

Stella shrugged, "I have no idea what you're talking about, but alright."

. . .

An hour later, and after calling Gary for a favour, four women sat waiting in the reception of La Rue, a small spa-come-beauticians on the Manhattan island, waiting for the fifth to arrive. Finally, Angell burst through the door. "Sorry I'm late," she apologised as she sank into the spare seat next to Peyton. "Great idea on the girl's day out, by the way."

Taylor smiled, "I figured it was needed. If nothing else, I've been waiting to be pampered for a while."

"You mean Flack doesn't pamper you?" Peyton laughed.

"Flack spoils me," Taylor corrected. "But he has yet to offer to paint my nails!"

A short time later and the five women were laying back, a mask on their faces, cucumber on their eyes, and their hands dangling lazily in pots of water.

"I could stay like this forever," Lindsay moaned. "Stell, do you think Mac would mind if I called in sick tomorrow?"

"Yes," Stella told her. "But only because I'd have beaten you to it."

"I don't know," Peyton told them. "It's his birthday today. His plans this evening might put him in a good mood."

"What does Mac have planned?" Stella asked her.

"I believe it's a surprise," said Peyton.

"We should have brought Mac along," Lindsay chuckled. "Given him a birthday treat."

"You'd have had to have pulled him away from his desk first," Taylor told her.

"So the rumours are true?" Angell piped up.

"What rumours?" Lindsay, Stella and Peyton asked, practically at the same time.

"You know, he's a stickler for the rules, never had a sick day, likes to work holidays," Angell shrugged, dislodging her cucumber.

"It was different before Claire died," Stella sighed.

"Who's Claire?" Angell asked.

"His wife," Stella explained. "She was in the World Trade Center."

"Oh," Angell frowned. "Has he not found someone else?"

"How could he?" Lindsay sighed. "He works all the time."

"Well maybe we should try and find him someone," Angell suggested.

"Mac would kill us," Stella grinned.

"Is that wise?" Taylor added at the same time, peeking out under her cucumber slices at Peyton.

"He may already be seeing someone," Peyton frowned.

Stella let out a small laugh. "I have been having coffee every Monday morning with Mac for practically forever. I think since Claire died, he's been on a grand total of one date, and that lasted as long as the date did because he couldn't push Claire out of his mind."

"Well surely that's a good enough reason as to not set him up with someone?" Taylor frowned. In the corner of her eye, Peyton was beginning to look a little uncomfortable.

"I'm with Taylor on this," Lindsay piped up, coming to Taylor and Peyton's rescue. "This is Mac we're on about. He actually would kill us if we started meddling, and besides, the guy is old enough to know if he's ready to date someone."

"Fair enough," Angell relented. "What about you, Stella? You need us to play cupid?"

Stella laughed. "I'm not in any hurry to be in a relationship again. The last one didn't end brilliantly."

"Guy was a jerk?" Angell asked.

"Understatement," Taylor muttered.

"Anyone you've got your eye on?" Angell went on to ask Lindsay.

"No," Lindsay replied shortly.

Taylor let out an inaudible sigh. She knew exactly who Angell needed to be playing cupid with. But it was another secret she couldn't break.

"Peyton?" Angell asked hopefully.

Peyton smiled. "I'm already on with that."

"You need any help?"

Lindsay laughed, "You really want to match someone up, don't you?"

"Of course," Angell told her. "My friend did it to me. And now I'm moving in with the nurse she set me up with."

"A nurse?"

Angell grinned. "Yup. We've been together six months now. Which is why I want to spread the love."

"Unlucky, because the only person left to ask is most definitely not single," Stella told her.

"Speaking of the great Detective Flack, what's with his ties?" Angell asked.

Taylor held her hands up in defence. "Don't look at me. Trust me when I say I've tried far too many times to get something a little less…" she frowned. "I don't even know where to begin describing them. But I've bought him ties, I've made suggestions, but he's so damn possessive over them."

Angell laughed, "I wouldn't change them for the world. I mean, I'm having a bad day at work and I look over and stare at those ties – it always cheers me up."

Stella and Lindsay both laughed. "It's true. They have the same effect on me," Lindsay added.

"Maybe you could set Danny up with someone," Stella added as an afterthought.

"You don't need to," Lindsay told them, a slight bitterness to her tone. "Mandy, Tracy and whatever the other girl is called, drape themselves over him all the time."

This time, Taylor's sigh was definitely loud enough to be heard as she sat upright. "Maybe we should set Sheldon up with someone," she suggested, trying to change the subject.

Angell's sigh matched hers. "No such luck."

Lindsay, Stella and Peyton sat upright and stared at Angell so quickly that their cucumber slices went flying. "What do you know that we don't?" Peyton asked.

Angell grinned. "Well, let's just say that when I was out the other week, I spotted Hawkes sat in a booth giving some pretty brunette his number."

"You know," Taylor mused, taking a bite of her cucumber, "Sheldon is one dark horse."

. . .

"You're in a good mood," Flack remarked as the door was opened to reveal a grinning journalist.

"I've just spent a girly day at the spa," she informed him, closing the door behind him. "And I learnt a few things in the process."

Flack arched an eyebrow. "Any good gossip?" he asked as he sank onto the couch.

"Coffee or beer?"

"Coffee," Flack smiled as Taylor padded back into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later.

Taylor handed Flack his mug before curling up on the sofa next to him. "So, we spent a large part of the afternoon talking about couples, and Angell was all set for playing cupid for everybody. And I think she may be on to something."

Flack stared warily at her through the steam which was rising from his mug. "Do I want to hear this?"

"Danny and Lindsay."

"What about them?"

Taylor bit her lip. "Okay, I figure I'm alright telling you this considering you're the only other person who knew Danny liked her. They were seeing each other, and then they broke up."

Flack nodded. "Yeah, I know."

Taylor blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah," Flack shrugged. "We're friends. We talk. He just doesn't want anyone else to know."

"Has Danny said anything to you?" she asked him.

Flack shook his head. "Not a word. I'd have thought that you would have more luck on that one."

Taylor let out a frustrated sigh. "Well, I think it's time took matters into our own hands."

Flack put his coffee down and turned the volume of the television down. "Why am I slightly worried about that statement?"

"There's nothing to be worried about," Taylor told him, rolling her eyes. "It's foolproof. All we have to do is set them up with other people."

Flack snorted, "And that's going to get them back together how?"

"Well, we set them up with idiots… well, people they have nothing in common with."

"That's it," Flack muttered. "You are forbidden from watching any more Friends."

"Huh?"

"Well it didn't work for Phoebe and Joey, did it?"

"No, but we're not Phoebe and Joey. So there's no reason why it shouldn't work. Besides, he bought her a ring, so he's serious about her."

"Did he now?" Flack muttered, more to himself than to Taylor.


	120. Out Of The Lab

_Spoilers for 3x07: Murder Sings The Blues_

_26/08/2007_

**Chapter 119: Out Of The Lab**

Taylor grabbed the present from the seat beside her and got out of the car, heading into the lab to track Mac down so that she could wish him a Happy Birthday. She got as far as walking past the break room when she spotted Flack surrounded by dozens of little pink boxes. "Is this for Mac's birthday?" she asked him, coming over to join him. Flack shook his head – his mouth full – and lowered the box he was eating from to reveal cake. Taylor eyed it suspiciously. "Are you pregnant?"

"It's wedding cake," he told her, finally swallowing. Taylor stared at him. "This sponge is heavenly," he told her, offering her a box.

Still eyeing it warily, Taylor took a seat on the stool opposite and took the box off him, reaching for a fork. "Why are there several boxes of wedding cake samples in here?" She waited patiently for Flack to respond, but as his mouth was full, it was actually Stella who broke the silence as she joined them in the break room.

"The contact we found in the swim gym filter was the same prescription as Veronica's, Grant Jordan's former house maid." Stella stopped when she noticed Taylor watching her. "You here to shed some light?"

"Mac's birthday present," Taylor told her, indicating to the wrapped gift.

Stella sighed. "Shame. Because this lens doesn't prove Veronica was the one who drowned Jordan."

Flack, who had calmly been eating cake whilst Stella was talking, just shrugged. "Huh." He handed Stella a box. "Try some of the flourless chocolate torte. Might help."

Taylor arched an eyebrow. Truth be told, she was exceedingly confused as to why Flack was eating wedding cake samples. Judging from the suspicious look Stella was giving the little pink box, so was she. She opened the box and smiled. "It's exactly like the one Sid found."

Taylor was even more confused. "Where on earth did Sid find cake?" She frowned. "Actually, spare me the details," she told them, remembering the fish he had once pulled out from a guy's stomach contents.

"Cake order," Flack explained as Stella showed Taylor the contents of her box. It was a wedding cake with a bride and groom ornament seated on the top.

"Sid found the head of the bride in our vic's throat."

"They say weddings can be murder," Taylor shrugged.

"Funny," Flack told her. "That one's from Pirinstein's, signed by one Veronica Pirez. The same Veronica Pirez who donated ten thousand dollars to a charity auction over two weeks ago."

Stella grinned. "She was the one who bid on him at that auction."

Flack nodded. "And you know, when I found that out, I did some checking. Seems that the Jordan's were registered at Tiffany's, Crate & Barrel and Barney's."

"But when I was looking through Grant Jordan's apartment, the only thing that even hinted at a wedding was a closet full of tuxedos," Stella frowned. "There was nothing to indicate he was planning on getting married. I mean, no engagement ring, no honeymoon plans."

"So maybe he didn't know about it," Taylor suggested.

"Veronica," Stella said in realisation. "Veronica was planning a wedding with Grant and he didn't even know it."

Flack nodded, leaning forward on his chair. "Do you, Stella Bonasera take Veronica as a crazy with a motive?"

Stella nodded, "I do."

"Right," said Taylor getting to her feet, "I'm going to leave you two to plan your wedding, and I'm going to go and try and find the birthday boy."

"You want to take some cake with you?"

Taylor gave Flack a smile. "You eat it. You look like you're enjoying it."

"Oh, I am. This is good stuff."

Taylor picked up the present and left, still chuckling to herself.

. . .

She had wandered around the lab for a while, yet hadn't seen Mac anywhere. She was close to leaving the present on his desk when Danny (complete with jump suit and mask) told her that he was working a case with Lindsay and Sheldon so to try them. The pair was in one of the labs pouring over pieces of what looked like trash. And Mac wasn't around. She sighed impatiently and headed over.

"And they all tested positive for dimethylhydrazine, a.k.a. DMH." Lindsay was saying as Taylor walked over.

"And what on earth would that be?" she asked them.

"The chemical that killed Jenny Anders," Hawkes told her.

"I'm sorry I asked," Taylor shook her head. "I don't suppose either of you have seen Mac, have you?"

"Not for a while," Lindsay apologised. "What do you need him for?"

"I just wanted to give him his present. But I think I may have to leave it on his desk."

"I think he's had a pretty lousy birthday," said Lindsay. "He was interrupted from something last night for a dead body."

"He didn't have the sense to book it off?"

Lindsay chuckled. "This is Mac we're talking about. I'm not even sure he knows how to book time off."

"Fair point." Taylor stared at the pieces of glass. "What are you going to do with those now?"

"Try to put these pieces back together to see if we can figure out what kind of container held the DMH and maybe lift some prints."

"Which might help us ID her murderer," Hawkes explained as Mac came bursting into the room.

"Happ-"

Taylor was cut off by Mac, who ignored her and focused his attention on Sheldon. "Why didn't you tell me you knew Jenny Anders?"

"It wasn't relevant," Hawkes told him.

"I decide what's relevant to a case. You knew the victim. You didn't say anything about it. Why?"

"Mac, I met her at a club," Hawkes protested in his defence. "I wasn't even sure it was her until I saw my number on the receipt Peyton found on the body."

"That was your number?" Lindsay asked.

"Your number is on the body – that's evidence. You know that, Sheldon," Mac told him, his voice surprisingly level considering how angry he was.

Taylor shifted, feeling uncomfortable. It seemed Lindsay felt the same way. "I'm just going to go check on the-"

Mac cut her off too, "No, you stay here, Lindsay." He turned back to Hawkes. "You put all our work in jeopardy. You know a victim, you have knowledge of a case – you are responsible for pulling yourself of that case."

Sheldon took a step back, "Mac, I knew Jenny Anders for maybe an hour. I was just-"

"An hour is all a defence attorney needs." Finally, Mac exploded, causing the whole lab to stop what it was doing and stare. "This lab does not make compromises. We do not take short cuts. We follow the evidence. Science is our integrity. You're off the case Sheldon."

"That was a little harsh," Taylor muttered as Sheldon walked out of the lab.

"Taylor, what are you doing in here?" he asked, then continued without even giving her the chance to respond. "You shouldn't be in here. You are not a professional. You shouldn't be anywhere near evidence."

"I didn't touch anything, Mac," she told him quietly.

"That is not the point," Mac exploded again. "You do not work for this team. You are putting every case we're investigating in danger of being thrown out in court! I think it would be best of you got out of here right now."

Taylor nodded, "Alright." She handed him his present. "Happy birthday," she told him before she left.

. . .

Taylor was submerged in a book a while later. She had left the crime lab and headed for her office to get some work done on her upcoming article. She wasn't exactly mad at Mac. She could understand where he was coming from. She just thought she had managed to get further with him. Clearly not. And Sheldon wasn't replying to her text messages.

"I thought I might find you here."

Taylor looked up from her desk and found Flack leaning against the door frame. "I do work here."

"Yeah," Flack laughed. "But I bet you spend more time where I work."

"Just be thankful you don't work in a brothel."

Flack arched his eyebrows. "Something you want to tell me, Tay?"

Taylor frowned as she worked out what she had just said. "Sorry. It's the story I'm working on." She put the pen she had been chewing down and turned her monitor off. "I guess you won't have to worry about me being in the lab any longer."

"Yeah, I heard about Mac's little explosion."

Taylor sat back and ran her hand through her hair, "I guess it was a long time coming. He does have a point. It's Sheldon I'm worried about."

"He'll be fine."

Taylor nodded, "I know. So, what's the matter?"

"Can't a guy come visit his girlfriend at work every once in a while?"

"Don, I'm not complaining, but I think this is the second time you've been in this building," she told him softly.

Flack shrugged. "Only needed to come into it the once. You've always been at the lab or visiting me. Which is why I decided it was time to come and visit your office." He stepped into the room and looked around. It was small anyway, but Taylor had journals, past papers, books and notepads open with paragraphs highlighted all over the floor and any surface that was free. "I see you're settled in here?"

Taylor shrugged. "What can I say? When I research, I research."

Flack smiled. "Alright, so I have motives for being here. I can't stay – I'm chasing up a witness, but I wanted to make sure you didn't have plans this evening." Taylor shook her head. "Good, because I'm going to make reservations. For eight o'clock. So I'll pick you up at 7.30. Which means you can't spend forever in this office. And I know you have no control, but if you could try and get Aiden and Maddy to give you a night off, it would be much appreciated."

"I'll see what I can do," Taylor said as she frowned, trying to think if she had forgotten something important. As far as she could tell there weren't any birthdays or anniversaries in May.

"I'll see you later," Flack grinned, knowing as he left that Taylor was going to be driven mad wondering what the occasion was.


	121. Lady In Red

_Spoilers for 3x07: Murder Sings The Blues_

_29/08/2007_

**Chapter 120: Lady In Red**

Taylor actually kept an eye on the time for once, and left early, still wondering what was going through Flack's mind these days. She had stepped out of the shower and was wrapped in a towel staring into the closet when she remembered about her less-than-solid friends. "Maddy! Aiden!"

"Hey-ho," Maddy greeted her cheerfully as the two appeared.

Taylor pulled her head out of the closet and peered around the door at her friend. "Did you just call me a ho?"

"Nope" Maddy smiled. "Just said hello."

"What's the matter?" Aiden asked with her trademark Cheshire cat grin.

Taylor eyed the pair suspiciously. "For the record, you two really can't pull off the innocent routine. So what's up?"

Aiden shrugged. "You called us."

"Ha ha," Taylor muttered dryly. "I just feel like you two know something I don't."

"Always did," Maddy told her.

"That is so not what I mean," Taylor responded, shooting her a scathing look.

"Maybe not," Maddy shrugged. "But we still know stuff you don't. Not that that means we can tell you."

"Don't I know it," Taylor grumbled. "Look, Don's being... he wants to take me out for dinner. Is it possible that we can manage that without a ghost, or demon, or even a unicorn disturbing us?"

"You know unicorns don't exist, don't you?" Maddy told her, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah," Taylor agreed. "But I thought the same about ghosts and demons, so I'm not saying no to anything these days."

"Interesting," said Aiden, looking at Maddy.

Taylor held her hands up, "Whoa. Whatever you are planning - stop it now. I have no interest in anything other than ghosts."

Aiden and Maddy both shrugged in a manner that Taylor assumed was them trying to be innocent again. She sighed. "Should I be worried?"

"Relax," Maddy told her. "As far as we know, the Powers That Be aren't going to send you anything your way that wasn't once human."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but vampires and werewolves were once human."

"Good point," Maddy grinned. "Okay, let's rephrase that: the Powers That Be aren't going to send anything your way unless it died human."

Taylor sighed and sat down at her dresser. "Why does that not fill me up with any more confidence? And you still haven't answered my question."

Maddy and Aiden shared another look. "We are not going to disturb you tonight, or the small hours of the morning tomorrow."

Taylor groaned. "So what time is my wake-up call going to be?"

"We have no control over what time a person dies," Maddy whined.

"So you keep telling me," Taylor sighed. "But you're avoiding the question again."

"We can't tell you," Aiden told her. "But the sun will be up."

"It's summer," said Taylor, trying to remain pleasant. "The sun rises early."

Maddy and Aiden once again shrugged. "Can't tell you anything more," said Maddy. "But wear a red dress tonight. That one you bought when we went shopping the other month."

Taylor got up and walked back to the closet. "You mean, when I went shopping and you added your two cents to pretty much everything in my life?" she asked as she pulled the dress in question out and turned around. The two ghosts had disappeared. Muttering to herself, Taylor switched on some Fall Out Boy and began to get ready.

At 7:25 she was finished: short of replacing the necklace Dean had given her for one with a garnet in it to match her dress. She got up and walked over to the full length mirror. The dress was a deep red Charmeuse halter, with a v-neck and empire waist. It had been about the only thing Maddy had been constructive about. Seriously, shopping with ghosts was much more fun for them. Especially when people gave you funny looks when you told the dead to shut up.

"You look beautiful," Flack's voice boomed over _Dance Dance._ Taylor let out a shriek and whirled around to quieten the music. "Sorry," Flack shrugged. "But you weren't answering your buzzer. Are you ready?" Taylor nodded and quickly turned everything off, and then followed Flack downstairs to where there was a taxi waiting.

The taxi dropped them off outside of one of the many entrances to Central Park. Taylor eyed Flack suspiciously. "You haven't got another surprise picnic planned, have you?"

Flack laughed. "No, sorry. You're not dressed for a picnic anyway." He stood and stared at her in the dimming light.

"What's the matter?" Taylor asked, checking her dress for a stain or something - Flack was staring at it rather intently.

"The dress looks familiar," he frowned.

"Sorry, but this is the first time I've worn it."

Flack smiled and shook his head, taking her hand in his. "Come on, we still have time for a stroll before dinner."

Taylor glanced at her watch. "You know it's just after eight, right?"

"Yeah, I also made reservations for 8:30, as well. I thought it would be nice to enjoy the evening." Taylor smiled and the two of them began walking through the park. Flack led them both on a somewhat scenic route around the lake and to the Leob Boathouse, where, it turned out, he had made his reservations.

. . .

Flack took a sip from his wine and settled back into his chair, contentedly full after an enjoyable meal and studied his girlfriend. She was smiling softly with a faraway look in her brown eyes. "Penny for your thoughts."

Taylor sighed contentedly, "It's nothing really. I'm just happy."

"You want to elaborate on that?"

"You," she told him simply. "You make me happy."

Flack's face broke out into a wide smile. "Really?"

Taylor frowned. "Of course. You make me feel happy and safe."

"I'm glad to hear that," Flack sighed growing serious. "I have something to ask you. Please stop me if you think I'm getting ahead of ourselves, but I think the time is right for this." Taylor stared expectantly at him waiting for him to continue. "Well, the thing is, I like waking up next to you, and I like how much better my shirts suit you. More to the point, I like living with you. And I'd like to make that slightly more permanent. So what do you say to finding somewhere to live together?"

"That sounds like a great idea," Taylor told him, smiling brightly.

"I was thinking about the logistics of it, and my place is too small, but I'd be more than happy to sub-let it to Marty so he has somewhere to live. It's cheap enough. And I realize I could probably just swap with him, but it might be nice to find somewhere new."

"You have anywhere in mind?" Taylor asked after Flack had paid the bill and the two were walking back to get a taxi.

"So long as I get to wake up with you, I don't mind," Flack told her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"Cute," she told him. "But personally, I would like somewhere with a boiler that works. And maybe without a cockroach infestation."

Flack chuckled, "I don't mind. But I think I'd like to stay on the island, if that's possible."

"Well, it's not like we have kids to worry about."

Flack stopped and looked down at her. "Do you want kids?"

Taylor frowned and stared back. "Are you broody?"

"No," Flack shook his head. "But I do want kids one day."

Taylor bit her lip and turned her attention to the lights that were twinkling away in the buildings that surrounded the park. "I do want kids. But I'm not ready for them yet. And I'm not certain I want to bring them into a world where I spend all day chasing ghosts around."

"But you're not ruling them out?"

"Of course not," Taylor frowned. "Like I said, I'd like a child. A little boy who looks just like his father."

"I've always seen myself watching my kids grow up."

"How many kids are you planning on having," Taylor asked him warily.

Flack shrugged. "Six or seven."

"Seven?" Taylor practically shrieked. "Are you wanting to create your own basketball team?"

"That's not a bad idea," he mused playfully.

Taylor was about to protest when he winked at her. "You have any ideas on names?"

"Kate for a girl, Michael for a boy."

Taylor arched an eyebrow. "You have really been thinking about this, haven't you?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "I've always wanted a big family. Haven't you thought about names?"

"Yes, but I'm a girl. I've been thinking about it since I was six."

"Guys think about this kind of thing too, you know."

"I know," Taylor sighed as they continued walking. "Dean," she told him after a while.

"Dean? Dean Winchester?"

"Huh? No. The boy's name I liked," she pulled a face. "But I guess I'm not calling my firstborn Dean, because he will never let me live it down."

Flack looked sideways at her. "You still speak to him?"

"I email Sam. Dean usually tacks on a couple of lines. Actually, the last time I had spoken to them, they had just been hunting..." Taylor frowned. "This sounds as crazy as demons... vampires."

"You know what," Flack scowled. "I really don't want to know. Vampires?"

Taylor nodded. "I'd like to think that they were making it up, but I'm really not sure." They continued the rest of their walk in a comfortable silence until they reached the taxi rank. "What are you thinking?" Taylor asked Flack.

"How much I like the dress," Flack told her as he realized why it looked so familiar - it was the dress she'd worn in the dream he'd had all those months ago. "And how much better it would look on my bedroom floor."

Taylor licked her lips. "We can soon sort that out."


	122. I never know who’s lurking

_UnspokenFaith - I actually wrote the later chapter much later than the previous ones, so I kinda jumped myself in that ship. I have no idea what I'm feeling with that ship. Actually, all my ships have... well... set sail. I don't know what I feel right now!_

_Trizzy - hey., she has to have flaw, right?? I think I had the same thought, because I was giggling too! I can't wait - I need my blue-eyed fix too! (:s)_

_Caitlin - I'm originally from just outside of Manchester (where Corrie is filmed) but I haven't watched it since the Battersby's moved in - yup, that long. Actually, I was working in a pub where Les Battersby frequents, and, long story short, told him I hadn't watched it since his family moved in... I didn't work there after that!) But, I'm glad you like! And I hope you continue to do so!_

_Volonta forte - (:p) So I can still surprise you, huh? Send away!_

_RK9 - Nope, all ships are up in the air. Though I have just been rewatching season 3 - I think my love for Lindsay MAY be back... we'll see! yup, more posts!_

_sparkyCSI - I know the feeling! I've lost track too! And I'm in love with GH! And yeah, I may have been a little over enthusiastic, but _someone_ knocked my confidence - I had to check!_

_demolished-soul - yes, but it was enough to make Flack smile! (:D)_

_meadow567 - yay, I mislead people! Mwahahahah! (:p) Soccer! Since Beckham transferred to LA whatever-they're-called, the UK has been showing more games, but I have yet to catch one! I must try! Though frankly, I'd rather catch a hockey game!_

_Aphina - I love writing Maddy and Aiden - they're so much fun. Probably because they can get away with so much!_

_Swede85 - you make Danny like cuddling! I know you can convert him! And, yup. Aiden is like Maddy, though she's more like Taylor's guardian angel - she keeps her safe (or at least trues) from the bad spirits! I just didn't like the way they 'got arid' of Aiden - I had to keep her around!_

_So, this is my attempt at humor. Yeah, feel free to tell me I'm not funny!_

_And this is a great time to express my thanks to sparkyCSI (my brill beta), Aphina, and Volonta forte - you've all been rocks recently... and you know how I've been!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 121: I never know who's lurking**

'You know smoking is bad for you, don't you?" Taylor asked as she rounded a corner and spotted Louie having a sneaky one out back.

'I keep meaning to quit,' Louie shrugged at her.

'If you meant to, you would.'

Louie took another drag. 'Fair point. So I don't want to quit. Sue me.' He glanced down at the paper Taylor was carrying. 'You write some big spread?'

'Wrong day of the week,' Taylor told him, shaking her head. 'Apartment hunting.'

'You ditching Marty?'

Taylor grinned. 'Something like that. Don and I are going to get our own place.'

'Does that require a congratulations, or should I be sending Flack a _commiserations _card?'

'Hey!' Taylor objected, punching Louie on the shoulder.

'Definitely the latter,' he muttered, rubbing his shoulder. 'So what brings you to the morgue?'

'Came to say hey to various people on my way up to see Don: see if we can go view some places…' she trailed of as Maddy appeared in front of her, accompanied by the ghost of someone who looked like they had been executed – half of their face was blown away as though someone had shot him in the back of the head.

'Are you alright?' Louie asked her, noting how ashen her face had gone.

Taylor clamped a hand over her mouth, shook her head, and dashed inside to the bathroom.

Louie was waiting outside when she emerged a while later. 'You alright?' he repeated.

Taylor nodded, 'My stomach has been off this morning.'

'Taylor, you threw up yesterday morning, too.'

Taylor shrugged, 'I should probably change my breakfast cereal.' She let out a long sigh. 'Look, I should go. I'll catch you later!' She waved at Peyton who had appeared and quickly headed up the stairs.

'Nice girl, just very strange,' Peyton mused, watching Taylor's retreating back.

Louie gave her a sideways glance, 'I think she's pregnant.'

Peyton's eyes widened in excitement. 'Really?'

Louie frowned. 'She's been in here almost every morning, and she's thrown up within ten minutes of being here: morning sickness.'

Peyton grinned, 'I'm so excited for her. I hope it's a boy!'

-------------------------------------------------------

Taylor meandered into the lab. She had really wanted to start house hunting, but that was obviously going on a back burner. Dumb ghost.

'Keep out of this.'

Taylor whipped her head around to see a ghost, bullet wounds in his chest, glaring at her. She swallowed and took a step back. 'Aiden?'

The ghost disappeared seconds before Aiden appeared. 'What's up, chica?'

'Either Maddy's not doing her job properly, or you aren't.'

Aiden frowned, 'Maddy has an execution.'

'Well, it's you who's not doing their job, then. Because a ghost just appeared, and he's not going to fall into the Casper category any time soon.'

Aiden pursed her lips. 'I'll be around. Don't worry.'

Taylor nodded as Aiden left. 'Great,' she muttered to herself.

'Talking to yourself, Drew.'

'Keep up with the Drew, and I will be.'

Danny grinned. 'You know you love it.'

'Yes,' Taylor agreed, deadpan. 'The death threats are my way of showing affection.'

'I knew it,' Danny smiled. 'So what brings you to the lab?'

'What normally brings me to the lab?' Taylor asked him, wearily. 'Casper and his not-so-friendly ghost friend.'

'How'd he die?'

'Looks like a bullet to the side of the head.'

Danny nodded. 'You've got Lindsay and Hawkes. They're at the scene now – over in Staten Island.'

Taylor looked at her watch and sighed. 'You think they're going to be a while?'

'Probably. Why?'

'I was hoping to view an apartment.'

Danny arched his eyebrows. 'You moving?'

Taylor grinned. 'Don suggested that it was time we found our own place.'

'Congrats,' he frowned. 'Does this mean no watching sports all night long with Flack anymore?'

'Oh, because I'm going to have the power to stop that,' Taylor said as she rolled her eyes. 'No, you two can watch sports all night long if you want. I'll keep in the study.'

'There's going to be a study? What about a game room?'

'Is this our apartment you're discussing, or mine and Don's?'

Danny pouted. 'Flack will want a games room too.'

Taylor shook her head. 'Is he around?"

'Nope,' Danny told her. 'He's in Red Hook with Mac and Stella.'

'And you got left behind?' Taylor chuckled. 'What did you do to annoy Mac this time?'

Danny glared at her. 'If you leave now, you might beat the lunch time traffic,' he told her, pointedly ignoring the question.

'I knew it,' Taylor laughed to herself as she turned and headed back for the lift.

---------------------------------------

It took Taylor the best part of an hour to get to the crime scene – the traffic on the I-278 was slow moving. Finally, she pulled up outside the address Danny had given her, to be greeted by Angell.

'Taylor? What are you doing here?'

'I, uh, need to see Sheldon,' she told her, fishing for an excuse. 'It's, um, personal?' She offered, hoping that Angell wouldn't press further. Much as she liked the woman, she was done explaining to people she could see ghosts.

Angell looked her up and down, but nodded. 'You can't cross the tape. Wait here and I'll go get him.'

Taylor nodded – it was probably the best result she could have hoped for, all things considered. Hawkes hurried over almost instantly, looking very concerned. 'Taylor? Are you alright?'

'Ghost,' she shrugged, as Maddy and the Casper turned up right on cue.

'Be careful,' the ghost told her, holding a bullet up.

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'Are you kidding me?'

'What?' Hawkes asked in alarm, looking around as though he expected something to leap out at him.

'I drove all the way for _that_?'

'What?' Hawkes repeated.

Taylor turned to Hawkes and pulled a face. 'Your vic? He was killed by a bullet.'

Hawkes frowned. 'Yeah, the bullet wound in the side of his head kinda gives that fact away.'

'I noticed,' Taylor said grimly. 'Sorry, I was expecting something a little less obvious than that.'

Hawkes placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. 'Sorry you had to come all the way out here.'

Taylor sighed. 'It's alright. Driving is still a novelty. Guess I should head back.'

'Hey Taylor,' Hawkes called after her. 'You're looking a little peaky. Maybe you should drink a bit more orange juice.'

Taylor forced a smile and got into her car.

----------------------------------------------------

Detective Angell wandered into the morgue some hours later, looking for Peyton. 'Hey girl. You got an ID on my vic?'

Peyton looked up from the paperwork she was pouring over and nodded, 'I do indeed.' She pushed some folders around until she found the one she was looking for, 'Davin Loeffler.'

'Cheers,' Angell muttered as she noted the name down.

'Hey, have you heard?'

Angell stared at her expectantly. 'Heard what?'

'Taylor's pregnant.'

'No way!' Angell exclaimed.

'Yeah, Louie said she's been throwing up all week.'

'Oh.' A look of understanding washed over the detective. 'It all makes sense.'

'What does?' Peyton asked her, sitting back in her chair.

'She came to the crime scene today, looking for Hawkes. For personal reasons.'

'We should at least get them a card. Do you think it's a boy or a girl?'

Angell bit her lip. 'I don't know. I think it would be sweet if they had twins.'

'Is either one of them a twin?'

Angell shook her head. 'Taylor has an older brother, and Flack has a younger sister.'

Peyton frowned. 'It's probably not likely then.'

--------------------------------------------------

Taylor was back at her apartment, writing an email to Greg, when her phone rang. 'Hi Don,' she smiled as she stared at the caller ID. 'I came by to see you earlier.'

'_Tay, is there something you want to say to me?'_

Taylor frowned. That was a bit of a loaded question. There were plenty of things she wanted to say to him. Only she couldn't. 'Not really. I only wanted to see if you wanted to view an apartment.'

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

'_You know I love you, don't you?'_

'Is there something you want to say to me?' Taylor asked him, starting to get worried.

Flack sighed, '_I don't get off for ages. Can you come back to the station?'_

'Be careful.'

Taylor glanced at the ghost who had appeared, still holding the bullet. 'Looks like I'm coming back that way anyway.'

Taylor hung up and shut her computer down. She grabbed the empty glass she had been drinking from and headed into the kitchen. Just as she placed it on the side, she felt the temperature drop. 'I'm going, already,' she muttered, turning. Except it was the second ghost standing there, glaring at her.

'Keep out of this!' he bellowed at her, the glass shattering beside her.

Taylor let out a squeak and dove past him, heading straight for one of the cupboards. She had managed to clasp her fingers around the salt shaker when the ghost shoved her to the ground. 'Aiden!' she screamed, flinging salt at the ghost which was standing over her.

As the ghost disappeared, Aiden appeared. 'I'm on it,' she told Taylor, disappearing instantly.

She had just about managed to stop shaking as she dropped into the chair opposite Flack's desk. 'Hi Don,' she greeted him, feeling very happy to see him. 'All done in Red Hook?'

Don put his pen down and stared at her.

'What?' she asked him, fingering her necklace nervously.

Without saying anything, but with an unreadable expression on his face, Flack leant over and pulled something out of his desk drawer, placing it on the desk in between them.

Taylor eyed the items suspiciously. 'Since when did you start smoking cigars?'

Flack arched an eyebrow at her.

Still baffled, Taylor picked it up, noticing the card underneath it. 'Congratulations on… _twins_?' Taylor spluttered as she read the card. 'What the _hell_?'

'Angell handed it over earlier,' Flack told her, finally speaking.

'Don, I'm not pregnant,' Taylor told him in amazement.

'So you haven't been throwing up every morning for the past fortnight?' Flack asked her, although he sounded slightly relieved.

'No. Yeah. On and off,' she frowned. 'Maybe four mornings over the past fortnight? Dumb ghosts like to turn up how they are found. And some of them aren't pretty.'

'And what did you need to see Sheldon urgently about?'

Taylor wrinkled up her face, trying to work out what he was talking about. 'Oh,' she said, realising what he was talking about. 'The ghost this morning was from the body at the crime scene he was working with. Angell doesn't know about the ghosts, and Lindsay doesn't believe me. So it was him I had to talk to.' She leant back in her chair, 'Don, if I was pregnant, you'd be one of the first to know, and trust me, if it's in the immediate future, there would be much freaking out.'

Flack leant over and grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. 'I needed to make sure.'

'Don, trust me, I would tell you if I was pregnant.' She picked the card up. 'Although this is cute. But twins?'

'Hey, Jesse and Ellie are cute.'

'Be careful.'

'Argh!' Flack yelped as Maddy appeared beside them.

Taylor sighed. 'And work beckons.'

* * *

_I'm not sure if this is good news or not. My muses are on crack (trust me, it is the only explanation!) and I'm waaaay ahead on chapters... lost the point.. oh yeah... I'm trying to edit my own work (it's a long time coming!) so (:s) yeah, I'm consuming vast quantities of inibriating liquids._

_You ever have one of those paranoid moments where you think nothing's right?? Well, I'm having one right now!_


	123. The road outside my house is paved with

_And a big thank you to my beta, sparkyCSI! She's put up with me being a) drunk; b) sending her a million chapters, and c) maybe mentioning I thought my fish was pregnant... It all makes sense if you read her latest fic!_

_I should also thank demolished-soul, because that's whose fault it is for the end of this chapter!! And confusing me! (Yeah, I will be asking for help in a chapter or two!)_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 122: The road outside my house is paved with good intentions**

Taylor headed next door to the crime lab, leaving Flack to continue with whatever it was he was doing, and quickly located Hawkes. She wasn't surprised to find Maddy there. Taylor shot her dead friend a disapproving look.

'Hey Sheldon. How's it going?'

Hawkes looked up from the clothes he was examining. 'Hi Taylor. Not too bad,' he frowned. 'Can't stand these glass walls though.'

Taylor sat down opposite of him. 'And why would that be?'

'Because I swear I'm being watched.'

Taylor shot Maddy a pointed look as Sheldon returned his attention to the jacket in front of him. 'Really?' she asked him when Maddy took the hint and disappeared.

Hawkes sighed, 'I think Mac is still keeping an eye on me.'

Taylor glanced over her shoulder. 'Is he still here?'

Hawkes shook his head, 'I think he disappeared up town to follow up on a lead. And yet I still feel like I'm being watched.'

'How's it going with this case?' Taylor asked him, quickly changing the subject – much as Sheldon was receptive to ghosts, she didn't think he'd appreciated the fact he was being haunted.

'To be honest, we don't have much.'

'Well, I have an ID,' Angell said, bounding into the room. Upon seeing Taylor, she let out an excited squeal and dashed over, wrapping her arms around the stunned journalist. 'Congratulations!'

Taylor pushed her away. 'Jen, I'm not pregnant,' she calmly told the excited detective (causing Hawkes to splutter).

'Really?' Jen looked crestfallen.

'Really,' Taylor told her firmly.

'Oh,' Jen turned red, 'I kinda already gave Flack a card.'

'And a cigar. I noticed.'

'You thought she was pregnant?' Hawkes asked.

Angell nodded her head sheepishly. 'Yeah.'

Hawkes laughed. 'Taylor with kids is an even more daunting thought than Messer with kids.'

Taylor's jaw hit the floor, 'Sheldon? I thought we were friends?'

'Sorry to break it to you,' he told her with a twinkle in his eye.

'Ok,' Angell interrupted. 'Moving on because I am slightly embarrassed, our vic was one Davin Loeffler.'

'What've we got on him?' Hawkes asked, all business again.

Angell frowned and pulled out her notebook. 'There are rumours he's involved with the Døds Forbannelse, but nothing has been confirmed.'

'Døds Forbannelse?' Taylor's forehead wrinkled up as she tried to remember where she had heard that name before.

'They're one of the five major gangs in the city,' Angell explained to her.

'The Brooklyn Bullets,' Taylor murmured, cursing under breath as she realised what the ghost had been trying to tell her.

'What about them?' Angell asked her.

Taylor stared helplessly at Hawkes. Catching on, he nodded. 'Come on, Jen, let's run with the gang angle.'

'Yeah, I gotta go,' Taylor said quickly, dashing out of the room before Angell could say anything.

She was in the elevator when the second ghost showed up.

'Keep out of this,' he growled, and then he shoved her so her back slammed into the back of the elevator.

Winded, she slumped down to the floor, 'Aiden,' she managed to gasp. As the ghost made to hit her again, Aiden flew through one side of the lift, grabbed the ghost and the two flew through the other side.

As the elevator came to a stop on the ground floor, she pulled herself to her feet, clutching the back of her head which had made contact with the wall. She made her way outside, but stumbled into someone. She muttered an apology over her shoulder, but stopped when she was addressed.

'Nancy Drew?'

Taylor frowned, not recognising the girly voice, and turned. The street was relatively busy, but the only person talking to her, was, well, wearing red fishnets, big black Doc Martins with red laces, a black vest top with red net top over that, one red glove, bright red lipstick, the bluest eyes, surrounded by a heavy layer of eyeliner, and black dreadlocks with occasional red tendril of hair in them.

Taylor's eyes dropped to the tattoos which littered the girls pale skin, then flicked back up to her face. 'Do I know you?'

The girl smiled. 'You're the girl who's not Blue-eyes' girlfriend.'

Taylor frowned, racking her brains. 'Don has blue eyes.'

'Don? I'm talking about that cute detective with glasses.'

Suddenly it hit her. 'You're a Suicide Girl.'

The Suicide Girl nodded. 'Nixon,' she chirped, holding her gloved hand out.

Taylor took it and shook, surprised at the girl's firm grip.

'And how is Blue Eyes?'

'I take it you mean Danny?'

Nixon shrugged, still smiling. 'I'm fine with Blue Eyes.'

Taylor couldn't help but grin. 'He's fine.'

'Is he still single?'

Taylor bit her lip, a plan forming. Don was going to kill her. 'What are you doing this evening?'

Nixon smiled. 'You're cute, but unless your boyfriend wants in, I'm –'

Taylor held her hands up. 'Not me. Blue Eyes.'

'Well, in that case,' Nixon beamed, 'I could find some time.'

Taylor beamed back.

----------------------------------------

Taylor was curled up with Flack on the couch, watching _Bad Boys_ later that evening, when her cell phone rang. Seeing Danny's name, she flipped it open. 'Hey Messer,' she greeted, preparing herself for the insults to come.

'_Evening Taylor_.'

Taylor frowned – Danny sounded a little too cheerful, considering he was supposed to have been on a date from hell. And he was calling her Taylor? 'How'd the date go?'

Next to her, Flack looked sharply at her.

''_Actually, that's why I'm calling. I just wanted to say thank you._'

'You're… what?' Taylor blinked.

'_I had a great night.'_

'You did?'

**Earlier that evening…**

Danny blew into his hand to smell his breath – still minty – then stepped into the trendy little bar. It was pretty empty, but he was early. He walked over to the bar, took a seat and ordered a beer. He was still contemplating if it was such a good idea – he had only just broken up with Lindsay, after all – but if Taylor was sure, maybe he was ready for a bit of fun.

And that was when a bubble of energy sat down in the seat next to him.

'Hello Blue Eyes,' it chirped at him.

Danny did a double take – Taylor had set him up with _Nixon_? 'Nixon?'

'You remembered,' she smiled at him.

'I, uh, I didn't know you knew Taylor,' he stammered, still in shock.

Nixon shrugged, 'I don't. I bumped into her this afternoon.'

Danny arched his eyebrow, and took a mouthful of his beer.

'You know, cocktails are more fun,' she told him as she ordered her drink.

Danny looked down at her drink. 'And what's that?'

Nixon grinned. 'A Nixon, of course.'

Danny had to laugh. 'Alright, and what would you recommend for me?'

Nixon's grin grew. 'Hang on.' She waved the barman over and whispered something in his ear. A couple of minutes later, a blue drink was placed in front of Danny.

'What's this?' he asked, sniffing the liquid.

'Try it,' Nixon told him, instead of replying.

Danny gave it on last sniff before taking a sip. It was actually surprisingly good.

'It's called a Blue Eyes,' Nixon winked at him.

Danny laughed again. 'Clever. But don't you think I look too girly drinking a cocktail?'

'You look a few things, but girly isn't on of them,' Nixon told him.

'So,' he said, clearing his throat, 'what do you do, Nixon Suicide?'

Nixon shrugged. 'You answered the question there.'

'Yeah, but what do you _do_?'

Nixon smiled patiently. 'Buy me a couple more cocktails and maybe I'll tell you.'

A couple of hours later, Danny glanced at his watch, surprised at how the time had flown. He'd been having a really good evening, despite his reservations, and Nixon was actually really intelligent and up-to-date on her current affairs. She was funny, too, in that subtle way, but she had had him in stitches at several points. And she was just generally happy, seemingly without some great secret – and if she had a secret, she would have told him, because she was open about everything. Even the fact she had a criminal record (she'd been in juvie for fighting one time too many).

The date had actually been fun, and he'd come home feeling incredibly relaxed, with the promise of another date the following weekend…

'You ever watched a roller derby?' Nixon asked him suddenly.

Danny chuckled. 'You went from frogs to roller derby?' he shook his head. 'Never watched it.'

'You wanna?' Nixon asked him. 'I know one of the girls on the Queens of Pain. They're playing next Saturday.'

Danny shrugged. 'Sure. Why not?'

They had gone home shortly after that, numbers exchanged. He had settled into his bed when his phone beeped. He flicked it open and found a picture message of Nixon, wearing very little. _Maybe you'll see it in the flesh next time._ Danny laughed. She certainly wasn't shy. And then he rang Taylor.

-----------------------------------

'You're… what?' Taylor blinked.

'_I had a great night.'_

'You did?'

'_Yeah, we're going out again next week. Roller derby.'_

Taylor frowned. 'A roller derby?'

'_Yep, anyway, I just wanted to say thank you. And you were right. It was time to get out there.'_

Taylor hung up, mouth open.

'What did you do?' Flack asked her suspiciously.

'Heh,' Taylor looked away. 'Nothing.'

'Uh-huh,' Flack responded, clearly not buying it.

Taylor peered up at him, 'IsetDannyupwithsomeonebuthelikedherandnowheandLindsayarenevergoingtobetogetherandyouwererightIshouldn'thavegotteninvolved.'

Flack blinked. 'You know how important it is to breath, don't ya?'

Taylor pulled a face. 'I bumped into Nixon Suicide. That girl who was chatting to me and Danny, well, Danny, at the precinct the other morning,' she explained seeing Flack's blank face. 'Anyway, I set him up on a date. I didn't think they'd have anything in common, he'd see how good Lindsay is, and they'd get back together.'

Flack stared at her. 'Tay, Lindsay finished things with him. Not that it was going to work anyway, but you'd have been better setting Lindsay up with someone and then _she'd_ have realised the person she wanted was Danny.'

Taylor bit her lip then dropped her head into Flack's side.

Flack looked down at her. 'I can't hear you when you're talking that closely to my ribs. And I know I'm crazy intelligent, but I can't translate the vibrations in my rib cage into sentences.'

Taylor lifted her head and peered up at him, an unimpressed look on her face. 'Fine. You were right, I was wrong. I'll not meddle in future.' Then she dropped her face back into his side.

* * *

_Right, before I forget... I know in the show, Nixon Suicide was played by herself. In my fic, Nixon is a character - anything she does is completely me - not the person. They just happen to share names! (That's a disclaimer, btw!)_


	124. They're gonna come out They're waiting

_demolished-soul - I've enjoyed writitng it, and I think you'd be surprised! Though I'm not sure how long she's gonna stay!_

_Caitlin - Not a problem - it's always nice to read comments! I've read that spoiler, though I'm not sure what to think about it. And I really like Angell - it would be great to see her in a scene with Flack, though I've never thought about that pairing!_

_meadow567 - the Galaxy games. It has taken me ages to reaffirm my feelings of D/L. Now I know where I stand...!_

_Trizzy - yeah, his moping is over. I see you like your roommate! lol You hid the CD? Ok, a little curious! And Twix Peanut Butter? Curious as I am, I'm not sure about that one!_

_Swede85 - Ok, Golem, step away from the ring, ahem, Danny! My paranoid thoughts revolve around this fic!_

_Aphina - Aiden just hasn't caught up with it yet. And I'm glad that chapter was funny - I tried!_

_RK9 - Ah, so that's your ship? I loved season 2 - and I see what you mean! But yes, that is what it's for, and I look forward to reading your thoughts!_

_Volonta forte - lol, I'll get it fed-exed over asap. Though it's a little twisted. I have no where the ideas come from. I think I'm just crazy!_

_TBD - I see you're backing D/L! Am I spoiling you with two chapters?? (:D)_

_sparkyCSI - I don't think I'm funny. It still amazes me to hear you say I am! Hehehehehehe, maybe we should introduce pregnant Mac to the singing fish. Ok, that's just produced wierd images in my head!_

_Hmmmm, no spoilers. Just thank to my beta, sparkyCSI!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 123: They're gonna come out. They're waiting for the sun to go down**

Taylor awoke early the next morning, curled up in Flack's arms, and very contented. A grin made its way to her face as she thought about how Flack had the morning off, and the two of them were going to view a few apartments. That was until she opened her eyes and found Maddy staring down at her, a coy smile on her face, Aiden next to her, looking slightly more embarrassed, and finally, the ghost of Davin next to her.

Taylor pulled the covers tightly around her as she sat upright, glaring at the three ghosts.

'You wearing clothes under there?' Maddy smirked at her.

Taylor shot her a glare. 'What the _hell_ are you three doing here?' she hissed at them.

Maddy jabbed a thumb in Davin's direction. 'Casper.'

'Don't make me line my bedroom with salt,' she glared at her.

'Hey,' Maddy shrugged. 'You have a job.'

'Which I'm not being paid for,' Taylor pointed out.

'True,' Maddy agreed, 'but that also means you don't have a set start time.'

'Maybe not,' Taylor forced, through gritted teeth. 'But if I'm in bed, with Don, then I'm not working.'

'Be careful,' Davin piped up, showing her a bullet.

Taylor moved her head very slowly to look at Davin. 'We've done that clue. I know it's the Brooklyn Bullets.'

Davin looked thoughtful, and then the bullet was replaced by a blacked-out SUV.

Taylor's mouth dropped open at the sight of the front end of an Escalade poking through her wall. 'You have got to be _kidding_ me,' she muttered, staring at the blue neon lights that were shining out from underneath the car's running boards.

'Be careful,' Davin repeated.

Taylor forced her eyes away from the truck and to Aiden. 'How careful?'

Aiden sighed. 'That other guy is gone. But there may be others.'

'Great,' Taylor muttered. She stared at the three ghosts. 'Is there anything else, or can I wake my boyfriend and tell him I suck, and that I have to go to _his_ work whilst he has the day off?'

'Sorry, Tay,' Aiden apologised, grabbing Maddy and forcing the three to disappear, the Escalade going with them.

Taylor sighed and lay down so that she was facing Flack, wondering how she was going to break the news.

'They gone?' he asked her without opening his eyes.

Taylor blinked. 'Huh?'

'Maddy and the other ghost.'

Taylor looked from Flack, to where the ghosts had been, back to Flack. 'How did you know?'

Flack peeked an eye open. 'Lining your bedroom with salt?'

'Might not be such a bad idea,' Taylor muttered. 'But yeah, we had some visitors.'

'You think you can be back for the afternoon viewings?' Flack propped himself up.

Taylor sighed, 'I'd love to say yes.'

Flack nodded, 'I'll go see the places the realtor has picked out, and weed out the rubbish ones.'

Taylor smiled up at him. 'Have I told you lately how amazing you are?'

'Nope,' Flack told her, leaning over. 'Wanna show me?'

Taylor grinned, pulling his lips to hers.

---------------------------------------------------

Just over an hour later, she wasn't feeling too bad about abandoning him as she hurried to the Crime Lab, walking, rather than driving, as she enjoyed the sun beating down on her bare shoulders.

She bounded into the lab, finding Hawkes in the break room, pouring himself some coffee. 'You're perky for 7am,' he frowned at her.

Taylor smiled at him. 'You really don't want to know why.'

Hawkes nodded. 'No, probably not. What can I do for you, Taylor?'

'Davin paid me a visit this morning. So I guess you haven't found his killer.' She joined him on the couch.

Hawkes glanced at her. 'If Mac finds out about this, he will kill me, but he's just been called out to a rape in the Bronx.'

Taylor arched an eyebrow. 'Finds out about what?'

'Organised Crime Control Bureau is joining us on this case. We have a meeting in half an hour, if you want to crash.'

'I can get away with that?'

Hawkes pursed his lips. 'Probably not, but we have nothing. I'll talk to Stella. Wait there.'

Taylor stared after him in amazement. Hawkes bending the rules?

He returned ten minutes later with Stella.

'Morning Taylor,' she greeted the journalist. 'Ghost?'

Taylor nodded. 'Yup.'

'Alright, you can come into the meeting. If anyone asks, you have information from a reliable, yet anonymous informant, and I know I don't have to say this, but this had better not make its way to the front page of the _Daily._'

'Of course,' Taylor nodded.

'And,' Stella added, 'let me be the one to tell Mac.'

'Yeah, that's not going to be a problem either,' Taylor told her.

-------------------------------------------------

Taylor followed Stella and Hawkes down to the eighteenth floor, where they were met by Angell and Lindsay, both of whom shot her a suspicious look, but couldn't say anything as they sat down around a large oval desk with members of the O.C.C.B.

There were four other people at the table – three men, and a woman, who all nodded their heads as the CSIs and Taylor sat down opposite.

Taylor stared around the room in curiosity. Unlike the Crime Lab, it felt welcoming and personal, with proper walls. At the head of the table was a large flat screen monitor displaying the O.C.C.B logo, and just under that was a laptop. Opposite Taylor, behind the members of the O.C.C.B. was pretty much a wall of windows, the sunlight streaming in. Behind her, the wall was covered in whiteboards which in turn, were covered in scrawling handwriting about various gangs in the city.

She busy reading when someone clearing their throat caught her attention. She turned and spotted its source – a tall Hawaiian man at the head of the tables. With brown hair and green eyes, wearing a tie, but the top button of his shirt undone, he was clearly the man in charge, but came across as the opposite of Mac.

'Good morning all. I hope it isn't too early for you.'

One of the men across the table pulled a face. 'If there's an _am_ tacked on after the time, of course it's too early.'

'Thank you, Shaun,' the guy in charge said, a twinkle in his eye. 'There's Red Bull in the fridge.' He focused his attention on the guests. 'Welcome to the Organised Crime Control Bureau of the NYPD. I'm Lieutenant Keanu Ikaia, the guy in charge, although Shaun over there will lead you to believe otherwise,' he joked.

Taylor liked this guy already.

'That fine specimen of a detective, whom you'll eventually come to love, is Detective Shaun Ellis.'

Shaun waved at them.

'Next to him,' Ikaia indicated to the short redhead with a wiry beard, 'is Detective Steaphan Carby. Don't worry if you can't understand him. He's Scottish. No one can, except his own clan.' Carby grinned good naturedly. 'Next along we have Detective Zena Britannia, and no, she's not a warrior princess.'

Zena rolled her eyes. 'It's getting a little old, Keanu.' She sat back and pulled her long blonde hair into a ponytail. 'You should run with the Britannia angle next time – there are more jokes about that one.'

'Finally, we have Detective Eirik Teodor.'

The last man at the table was, well, something of a hunk. Blonde hair, blue eyes, chiselled jaw, and muscles that rippled underneath his t-shirt as he moved. 'Morning,' he smiled at them.

Stella stood up and joined Ikaia at the head of the table. 'Well, I guess it's time for our introductions. I'm Stella Bonasera, that's Detective Lindsay Monoroe, and Dr Sheldon Hawkes. We're all from the Crime Lab upstairs. Detective Jennifer Angell is from homicide, and finally we have Taylor Turner.'

'Who needs no introductions,' Ikaia smiled. 'I pass your picture every morning.'

Taylor smiled back as she felt her face heating up. 'Hi,' she just about managed.

'Not that it isn't a pleasure, Ms. Turner, but I don't think the press should be here,' Ikaia continued.

Stella turned to the head of the O.C.C.B., 'Taylor is here with information. She's worked with us before.'

Ikaia nodded. 'So long as this doesn't appear in the papers.'

Taylor nodded. 'It won't,' she agreed.

'Alright, well, lets get on with it. Stella, would you like to start?'

Stella nodded, sticking a flash drive in the laptop. Within seconds there was an image on the screen. Carby leapt to his feet and shut the blinds, the image of the late Davin Loeffler suddenly became crystal clear. Stella waited until Carby was seated, and started.

'At 8:06am yesterday, 911 received an anonymous call from a payphone in Tompkinsville. Detective Angell was the first to arrive with a couple of uniforms and secured the scene.' She brought up an image of the area Davin had been found whilst the members of the O.C.C.B. took notes. 'Lindsay and Hawkes arrived and processed the scene. There is very little in the way of evidence, and according to the coronor, he was killed by a gun shot to the temple at close proximity. Analysis on the bullet we retrieved only tells us it was a 9mm, most likely from a Glock, and the gun is clean.'

Ikaia nodded and got to his feet as Stella sat back down. 'This case has been bounced on to us because of the victim's alleged connections to the Døds Forbannelse. The Døds Forbannelse is one of the five major gangs in the tri-borough area, with links to the Brooklyn Bullets and the Tanglewood boys. The Tanglewood Boys have been quiet recently as their number one, Sonny Sassone, is awaiting his trial for murder, so the Brooklyn Bullets have been picking up the slack." He nodded at Eirik.

'I've been undercover with the Døds Forbannelse for the past eight months. They're largely involved with money laundering and human traffic, but with Sassone gone, they're stepping up a gear – moving into drugs. Davin Loeffler is a small time crook over in Staten Island. What connects him to the Døds Forbannelse is property. He provides the illegals places to stay until they are moved on to whichever location is next for them.' Eirik paused. 'Whilst Loeffler has remained somewhat neutral between the gangs, providing housing for all, rumour has it he's been supplying the Døds Forbannelse with information about the Brooklyn Bullet's street dealers.'

'So his murder was a revenge thing?' Lindsay asked, pausing in the notes she was scribbling.

Eirik nodded. 'And probably a warning too. The Bullets want to reaffirm who's in charge of the drug supplies in NYC.'

'Do you know who killed him?' Hawkes asked.

Eirik shook his head. 'It could have been a number of low-level gang members.'

'If the gangs are about to ascertain who's in charge, we need to get in their first, before a turf war ensues, and innocent people get hurt,' Ikaia took over. 'So we're going to start by arresting Davin's killer.'

Taylor frowned, 'But I though you said you didn't know who killed him?'

Zena smiled patiently. 'We don't. But there are a dozen or so outstanding warrants and that's the first place to start.'

'You said you had some information?' Ikaia asked her.

'Yeah, an Escalade,' Taylor scratched her head.

'There must be hundreds of Escalades registered on this island alone,' Carby frowned, his voice lined with scepticism.

'It was black. With blacked out windows,' she offered.

Carby snorted. 'Who's your source.'

'Taylor's source is an anonymous informant who will only communicate with her,' Stella answered for her, saving her. Taylor nodded quickly.

Ikaia looked down at his watch. 'We need to be wrapping this up. I propose that in two hours time, we leave for Staten Island and start reading those Miranda rights.'

Stella nodded. 'We'll be ready.''

Zena stood. 'Come on Eirik. You need to get back to your cell.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open as Eirik held his hands behind his back and Zena cuffed him.

'I have to have a reason for being in here,' Eirik shrugged at her, seeing her shocked face. He turned to Carby. 'You can hit me this time.'

'Aw,' Zena pouted. 'Why are you taking my fun away from me?'

Eirik arched an eyebrow. 'Because I lost a tooth the last time you hit me, and my dental is strained as it is. Carby hits like 5 year old.'

Taylor watched in horror as Carby laid one on Eirik's jaw, and then the O.C.C.B. team, bar Ikaia, filed out of the room. She glanced at Sheldon – he seemed to be thinking along the same lines as she was, judging from his expression.

She rose to her feet, about to do the same, when Maddy appeared with Davin, complete with an Escalade at the far end of the table. Taylor's eyes bulged out her head, and she quickly turned so her back was to the others. 'Not now,' she mouthed at the ghosts.

'Be careful,' came her response.

Taylor sighed and glanced at one of the whiteboards. There was a graph showing how gang related murders had risen over the past five years.

'Be careful,' Davin repeated.

Taylor swallowed and turned. She waited until Angell and Lindsay had stepped out of the room, and Stella and Ikaia were deep in conversation, so she grabbed Hawkes' arm and pulled him back. 'I don't like this,' she muttered.

Hawkes placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. 'It's routine. What could go wrong?'

Taylor's eyes widened. 'You _had_ to say it, didn't you? I have to come.'

Hawkes shook his head. 'A meeting is one thing, but a ride-along to a bust – I doubt Stella could pull that one off.'

Taylor turned and looked back at Maddy (who was all but drooling over Hawkes) and at Davin.

'Be careful.'

Taylor turned back to Hawkes. 'You don't understand. I really think I should come.'

Hawkes sighed. 'Like I told you, there is no chance you're getting in a squad car-'

'But-'

'But should you decide to go for a drive this afternoon, and should you decide to head over to Staten Island, and should you decide to get out in Tompkinsville, well, it's still a free country.'

Taylor nodded, managing a worried smile, and dashed out of the lab, the words "be careful" echoing in her ear.


	125. And they know they killed our heroes too

_UnspokenFaith - if only it were possible for me to set Hawkes and Maddy up together... but I think the only way is to kill Hawkes...!_

_Swede85 - Yup, when I created it ages ago it was Norwegien. I hope you're looking after Danny!_

_RK9 - Aw, really? Does that even exist?? You're right - there are very few of those ships, but they are usually well written when they are! I've been having a half empty spell recently - hence Nixon. But I think I've made my mind up on that ship now!_

_Volonta forte - A pregnant Tay? Um, still not considered that one yet! Too much to get through first. Besides, I'm worried about 'losing it' if I go down that road!_

_sparkyCSI - okay, I promise - no more pregnant Mac fics! I'll just turn Lindsay into a Terminator! Mwahahahaha!... Please, please, please get my muse to rehab...!_

_demolished-soul - I have a bit planned with this. I also intend on being very mean! (:p)_

_Aphina - but of course! You can never say never, because it always happens! And I shall come up with some form of challenge for you... you will regret saying that!_

_meadow567 - Nope, this is one of my own crazy concoctions! And I'm sorry to make you wait! I'll try to get an extra chapter in this week!_

_Trizzy - It's not Taylor you have to worry about... dun dun duh! (:D) Can't say I want a PB Twix. Though you now have me craving Reese's... and they don't sell them in the UK. I may have to sulk now!_

_Wolfsong98 - don't worry about it! I know that time runs away. I'm just glad you're still reading!!_

_No spoliers, just thanks to sparkyCSI for betaing!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 124: And they know they killed our heroes too**

The CSIs and the O.C.C.B. team moved out (without Eirik) right on time. Taylor was waiting for them in her car, and pulled out after them as soon as they left. Traffic was moderate and they came to a stop in one of the poorer neighbourhoods on Staten Island only half an hour later.

The eight of them burst into a bar, all dressed in protective gear and armed to their teeth whilst Taylor sat fidgeting, waiting impatiently in her car.

'Be careful.'

Taylor jumped in her seat. She glanced in the mirror and found Davin and Maddy staring back at her. As the officers began leading various handcuffed men out, Taylor leapt out heading over.

'Taylor?' Ikaia stared at her in surprise as he pushed a suspect into the back of the van. 'What are you doing here?'

'Something doesn't feel right,' she told him.

'Ms. Turner, we have just arrested nine men with outstanding warrants without a single shot being fired.'

And then the world went crazy.

Ikaia had barely finished his sentence when the air was broken by gunfire.

Taylor turned, then was pushed to the ground behind the van by Ikaia, as he took shelter beside her, his gun already out. With her hands clamped down on her head, praying that none of the bullets would find her, Taylor rolled under the van and hid.

--------------------------------------------------------

Lindsay was still in the bar when the firing began. She pushed the handcuffed man she had been leading out to the side and quickly and cautiously made her way over to the door. A black Escalade was driving past, the back window rolled down far enough for the muzzle of a gun to poke out, firing wildly as the car drove slowly by.

It was like the scene before her was playing in slow motion. She ducked behind the wall just in time as the glass from the bar window on the other side of the door exploded into several million pieces. She peaked out, noting bodies slumped on the floor, but she wasn't sure if they were dead, alive or wounded, or if they were good guys or bad guys. She dashed out of the building, ducking behind a car, and peaked out, training her gun on the SUV.

The Escalade changed direction, sped up, and charged at a woman who was shooting at it. Lindsay shouted at her to move, but her voice was lost over the sound of the gun shots and the squeal of the tires. It wasn't until the woman hit the ground, unmoving, after flying off the hood of the Escalade, that Lindsay realised it was Stella.

She screamed for help and ran over, not caring if the Escalade was still there – it had actually squealed off before Stella had hit the ground, but Lindsay hadn't realised – to see if Stella was alright.

------------------------------------------------------

Taylor remained frozen underneath the van until the screaming of the sirens were right beside her and someone was crouching down, trying to coax her out.

'Come on Taylor, you can come out now,' the owner of the voice sighed and crawled under the van, pulling her hands away.

Taylor screamed and jerked back as the person held tightly to her hands.

'Taylor!' Flack's voice was calm, reassuring, and authoritive.

'Don?' Taylor looked up at him with her tear-streaked face.

'Come on, baby. Let's get you out from under here.'

Taylor nodded and together they shuffled out. He helped her to her feet, and for the first time, Taylor surveyed the carnage around her. There were three body bags, bullet holes everywhere, and paramedics wheeling someone onto a bus. Her heart plummeted into her stomach as she realised that the person on the stretcher was Stella and she didn't look good.

'Taylor?' Lindsay ran over and wrapped her arms around her, 'I'm so glad you're alright,' she told her, her voice clearly relieved.

Taylor allowed the woman to squeeze her as she stared over her shoulder at the three new ghosts who had appeared alongside Davin and Maddy. One was Eirik. The other two, Taylor didn't recognise but assumed were some of the men that had been arrested.

'Be careful,' they chorused at her.

Taylor blocked them out and shrugged Lindsay off her. 'How's Stella? And where's Sheldon?'

'I don't know how Stella is, and Sheldon is over there,' she pointed to a bus where Hawkes was sitting in it, on a stretcher, with a paramedic attending his arm. 'A bullet grazed his arm.'

Taylor felt like she was going to throw up.

'Taylor, we should get you to a hospital,' Flack told her gently, 'you're bleeding.'

Taylor glanced down. It was only from a couple of scrapes where she had been pushed to the ground, but even they weren't registering. She allowed Flack to drape a jacket over her shoulders – she hadn't even realised how cold she was – and led her to his car.

--------------------------------------------------------

Flack was pacing back and forth past the doorway to the private waiting room they were in. He glanced over at Taylor. She was sat in the same position she'd assumed when she got there, her legs curled up under her, nursing a cup of coffee she hadn't touched, her hands still shaking. He sighed and continued on his well worn route.

Finally the door burst open and Danny flew in, followed by some girl he had never seen before.

'What happened? Is Stella alright?' How's Hawkes? Where's Lindsay?' Danny demanded.

'Stella's in surgery. I haven't heard anything since we got here. Hawkes is being checked out in the ER – he's coming up here as soon as he's patched up, and Lindsay is still at the scene with Angell and Mac, so I don't really know what happened. There was a drive-by and somehow Stella ended up getting knocked down.'

'When we catch the bastards that did this, I'm going to line them up and use them as target practice,' Danny growled venomously.

Flack frowned as Danny began cracking his knuckles.

'Hey, Blue Eyes, quit doing that and sit down. You're not helping anyone.'

Flack switched his attention to the woman who Danny had entered with. 'Excuse me?'

Nixon arched an eyebrow. 'Not you, this time, BFG.' She pushed Danny over to the couch opposite Taylor and sat him down. 'You can sit there and take five minutes.'

Flack watched in disbelief as Danny actually remained seated and ran a hand through his hair. 'I should be out there,' Danny muttered.

'You called the Boss-Man, and he said you weren't allowed near this case because of your past with the people they suspect did the shooting.'

'I know,' Danny said in a strained voice, 'but I feel so useless.'

'You're here for your Stella, showing your support. That's far from being useless. Useless would be going out there in a rage, arresting every Tom, Dick and Harry in sight, and then having to watch as the guys walk off Scot-free because you've not gone by the book.'

Danny simply sighed.

By now, Flack's eyes were all but bulging out of his head. Who was this chick? And would she teach him that trick, because, damn, getting Danny to listen to the voice of reason was like drawing blood from a stone. Flack sighed – this was all feeling like a very surreal dream. Until Hawkes stepped in, sporting a very stark white bandage on his upper left arm.

The four of them stared up expectantly. He shook his head, 'I haven't heard anything.'

'You okay, man?' Flack asked him.

Hawkes nodded. 'Just grazed me. The vest stopped the other one.' He walked over to Taylor and sat down beside her. 'How are you?' He glanced up at Flack when he got no response.

Flack shook his head. 'She hasn't said anything since I put her in my car,' he said softly.

'Has someone checked her out?'

'She wouldn't let anybody.'

Hawkes got up, pulled the cold coffee out of Taylor's hands and walked over to Flack. 'She's going into shock. Lie her down and elevate her feet. I'll be right back.'

---------------------------------------------------------

Taylor awoke in a semi-darkened room.

'Lie back down,' came Flack's voice as she tried to sit up.

Taylor relaxed back into the pillow as Flack pulled her hand into his. 'What happened?'

'You had me a little worried,' Flack told her. 'You went into shock. Remind me not to rely on you in an emergency,' he finished, forcing a smile at his attempt at a joke.

'I managed to save your life, didn't I?'

Flack's smile was genuine this time. 'Yeah.'

'How's Stella?'

Flack sat back. 'She came out of surgery a while ago. They had to reset her leg and remove her spleen, but other than a couple of cracked ribs, she is fine.'

Taylor let out a large sigh of relief. 'Thank God.'

Flack squeezed her hand. 'Are you alright?'

Taylor turned her head. 'It was carnage, Don. There was blood, and bodies and shell casings everywhere. And all I did was hide under a van like I was-'

'The civilian that you are?' Flack finished for her. 'Taylor, you weren't armed, you're not a cop, and there were bullets flying everywhere. What exactly were you going to do?'

'I saw the Escalade,' she told him in a strained voice. 'The ghost showed it me, and I didn't work out what he was trying to tell me.'

Flack sighed and brushed her hair behind her ear, 'Taylor, I've seen you trying to decipher these clues – the ghosts don't make it easy. If it's anyone's fault, it's theirs for being too cryptic.'

Taylor stared at him and nodded as Flack wiped a stray tear away. 'Can we go home?' she asked him.

Flack nodded, 'I think that would be a good idea.'

* * *

_Well, it's getting to that time of year (Freshers week) where life is going to explode. I'm ahead on the chapters, so I shouldn't have a problem updating, fingers crossed. Hopefully I'll be able to stick and extra chappie in for you this week._

_Well, you know where that 'lil purple button is... (:D)_


	126. I feel so alive for the very first time

_RK9 - I would love to go back to updating daily. My only problem is that life is about to get mega hectic again (:c) I create an OC for all the none D/L fans out there, and then I get told they want Danny back with Lindsay! I love it! I will try to get another update in before Sunday, is that ok?_

_Volonta forte - run with it! Actually, get the fashion show out of the way, and then run with it! lol. And I;m not going to be mean to Taylor... well, I'm not going to have her injured seriously for a while, anyway!_

_Trizzy - hahahaha, BFG will be explained! I was wondering how many people I would confuse with that one! I go off word count, rather than page length, so i didn't realise how short it was! Sorry!_

_demolished-soul - why, thank you! Yup, Nixon will be in and out for a few chapters, at least!_

_Alana Xavier1 - I can't believe it either. The time has flown by! But I'm glad you're still reading it!_

_meadow567 - thank you!_

_Swede85 - hahahaha, your review had me in stitches. Which would have been a good thing, had I not been at work! Well, I don't know if there's a law - at least it wasn't Mac! But at least you're still looking after Danny... or is it the other way around?_

_sparkyCSI - blue/purple... meh! I did... Have you got a new story alert?? Cue shameless plug..!_

_No spoliers, just my crazy imagination... and thanks to sparkyCSI!_

_

* * *

_

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 125: I feel so alive for the very first time**

When Flack awoke the following morning, it was to a half empty bed. He shot upright and looked around wondering where on earth Taylor was. Yanking back the covers, he dashed out of his bed and into the living room, practically skidding to a halt when he spotted Taylor at his computer, cursing it under her breath.

'Taylor? What are you doing?'

Taylor turned, 'Don, you have got to get DSL or broadband, or… _anything_ other than this dial-up!'

'I don't use it much – if I need anything I use my computer at work. That one's not very good.'

'You think?' she muttered in surprise, 'I'm convinced this is running because mice are inside it, running around on a wheel to power it.'

Flack walked over. 'Aside from insulting my computer, what are you doing up? And what are you doing on here?'

'Nothing,' Taylor told him. 'Other than restraining myself from kicking that piece of junk.'

Flack eyed her suspiciously. 'Alright, what were you _trying_ to do?'

'I was trying to research.'

'Research what?' Flack asked her as he perched on the arm of his couch.

'The Brooklyn Bullets and the Døds Forbannelse,' Taylor told him calmly as she shut his computer down.

Flack took a breath, 'Taylor-'

'Don't worry, Don. As you pointed out last night, and as Mac likes to tell me all the time, I'm not a cop. But I _am_ a journalist, and I'm going to do what I do best – research. And then I'm going to hand over all the information and go and see how Stella is doing.'

'I think I would prefer it if you skipped to the visiting Stella part.'

'I know you would,' Taylor told him, placing a kiss on his cheek, 'but I have to do this, because I can't do anything else. That and the fact there are five ghosts standing in that corner who haven't left since three this morning.'

Flack glanced hesitantly over his shoulder and started when he spotted Maddy waving to him. 'And you can see five?'

Taylor nodded solemnly.

Flack sighed. 'Promise me you will hand that information over.'

'I will even hand it to you personally,' she told him.

------------------------------

Taylor walked into the Crime Lab and headed straight for Mac's office. He was pouring over piles of papers and looked like he hadn't slept all night. She gently rapped on his door and walked in.

'Morning Taylor,' he greeted her wearily.

Taylor opened her mouth to greet him back, but stopped, and slowly turned her head, distracted that a badly recorded song which was playing from above her head.

'What's the matter?' Mac asked her.

'You put the guard fish up?' she asked him suspiciously.

Mac pursed his lips and stared at the wiggling, singing fish. 'Oh yes, thank you for that present.'

'You didn't like it?' Taylor pouted.

'Not as much as,' he broke off. 'Yes. Thank you.'

Taylor beamed. 'I knew you would like it.'

Mac sighed. 'What can I do for you, Taylor?'

Taylor walked over to the desk and took a seat. 'Alright. Before you tell me what my job is, I know. But Stella is my friend and I want to help and whether you want to believe it or not, I have four ghosts haunting me, including the agent who was shot yesterday, who want to help too.'

'Taylor-'

'You also look like you haven't slept. I know I haven't, and I doubt the others have either.'

'Taylor-'

'Considering the chaos that scene was in yesterday, you probably have Lindsay and Sheldon working around the clock, you've taken Danny off the case, and I figure you could do with all the help you need. So let me help. I can read and read and read.' She sat and stared at Mac who stared back.

'Are you done now?' he asked her, finally.

Taylor nodded.

'Good.' He picked up half the files on his desk and handed them over. There's more in the file room on the fourth floor.'

Taylor's jaw hit the floor. 'It was that easy?'

'You're right,' Mac told her. 'I haven't slept, and I need all the help I can get considering I'm two down on my team.'

Still in shock, Taylor rose to her feet, 'I'm getting out of here before you change your mind,' she informed him, scooping the files. She headed to the door and pulled it open, staring up at the fish which had burst into song again. 'I knew getting you was a good idea.'

'Taylor,' Mac called after her.

Taylor turned. 'Yeah?'

'If Danny turns up, keep him away from the files.'

Taylor nodded and left.

---------------------------------

A couple of hours later, Taylor was buried behind piles of files in the small computer lab, the computer whirring behind her as she had set the task of running everything in the _New York Daily's _database.

'What are you doing down there?'

Taylor looked up from her position on the floor and pulled the pen she had been chewing out of her mouth. 'Research.'

'On what?' Danny asked her.

'The Brooklyn Bullets.'

Danny stared at her. 'Mac okayed that?'

Taylor nodded. 'It's all because of the Magic Guard Fish.'

Danny pulled a face. 'Did you hit your head at some point?'

Taylor grinned. 'Let's just say it was a trick I learnt in Las Vegas.'

Danny sat down heavily in the chair at the computer and glanced at the screen. 'I can't believe Mac is letting you work this case, but not me.'

'That's because you have a dodgy past,' Taylor told him matter-of-factly, putting the folder she was reading on the 'read' pile and grabbing another.

'My brother has a dodgy past. I'm dodgy by association.'

Taylor looked up at him. 'That changes things how?'

Danny frowned. 'Does Mac know you have a dodgy brother?'

Taylor arched an eyebrow. 'You kidding? Mac seems to know all,' she frowned, 'except when it comes to relationships.'

Danny nodded. 'Well, he met Nixon yesterday.'

Taylor stared at him in disbelief. 'Hang on. You were with Lindsay for _months_ and he never found out, yet you go on a couple of _dates_ with Nixon and Mac's already met her?'

Danny shrugged. 'He was at the hospital. Met her there.'

'And what about Lindsay?'

Danny sighed and sank back into his chair. 'They'll meet at some point. I was going to see how it was working between me and Nix before I introduced them.'

Taylor put the folder down. 'Danny, you need to tell her.'

Danny nodded. 'May as well do it now. It's not like I can do anything else.'

Taylor frowned. 'Don't you have your own case you should be working on?'

'Do you want me to tell her, or are you trying to get me to put it off?'

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Go.'

-------------------------------

'How's it going?' Flack asked her as he sat down in the seat Danny had occupied many hours previously.

'Fine,' Taylor told him. Or at least that was what he thought she said as she still had a pen between her teeth.

'You have a pen stain on your cheek.'

'Uh-huh.'

Flack rolled his eyes and placed a Subway sandwich on the papers she was reading.

Taylor blinked and looked over at him. 'What's this?'

'Lunch,' Flack frowned. 'Well, dinner.'

Taylor glanced up at the clock. 'It's 6pm? Already?'

Flack nodded. 'I figured you'd still be here. Find anything?'

Taylor nodded. 'Enough reading to keep me busy for months. Zena Britannia from O.C.C.B. dropped by with more information.' She jerked her chin at a pile balanced precariously on the side as she took a bite of her sandwich. 'They're struggling in O.C.C.B., what with being a man down too.'

'Speaking of,' said Flack. 'I got the Captain to agree to give me a break. Stella has visiting hours soon. I'm guessing you haven't left that spot all day?'

Taylor thought about it and shook her head. 'Might explain why my back aches.'

The two finished up their sandwiches and headed over to the hospital.

'Hey guys,' Stella beamed at them as they walked in.

Taylor handed over the chocolates they had bought on their way over. 'Someone's popular,' she indicated to the enormous bouquet of daisies near Stella's head.

'They're from Detective Ikaia. He called in this morning before he went to visit Ellis.' Stella sighed. 'They got hit pretty bad. Lost an agent, another, Ellis, is in ICU. Makes me feel lucky.'

'So it should,' Flack told her. 'And if it was luck that kept you here, I'd take luck any day.'

Stella blushed. 'You're sweet. Thank you.'

Flack shrugged. 'I mean it.'

'So,' Stella changed the subject slightly. 'How's the case going? Have you found who did it?'

'Stell, you should be thinking about getting better, not work.'

Stella arched an eyebrow. 'It's going to take weeks to get out of this cast, and no amount of positive thinking is going to speed that up. Which is why I would like to know how the case is going.'

Flack sat forward. 'We have some suspects, but nothing concrete so far. We're working on it Stella. You know that none of us are going to give up until the people behind yesterday have been arrested.'

Stella groaned. 'How on earth did you manage to be confined to a hospital bed for so long? I'm going mad and I'll be back on desk duty in a week.'

'A week may be a little optimistic, Stell,' Flack told her. 'You were involved in a hit and run.'

'Trust me, I am well aware of that,' Stella told him dryly.

'At least you will get to go on desk duty soon,' Taylor reminded her. 'Don had to wait months for that.'

'I was in a coma,' Flack pointed out.

'See,' Taylor shrugged.

'You're right,' Stella admitted. 'But I get bored so easily in here.'

'Well, I tell you what, Stell, next time I come, I'll drop off my Playstation. That will keep you entertained.'

Taylor shot him a disbelieving stare. 'You're willing to give up your Playstation?'

Stella laughed. 'And in the meantime, I know the nurses have a Monopoly board. Fancy a game?'

* * *

_Ok, so... it's time for a shameless plug...!_

_Myself, sparkyCSI and Aphina have colaborated together to create a brand new story. Taylor's in it (although, due to circumstances, it's... well, it's the other road I could have gone down with her (in more way than one)! So, if you want to read a sort of spin-off (and you should!) check out Gotham's Heroes!_

_Other than that, thank for reading, and I hope y'all are still enjoying!!_


	127. And of all a sudden there stood a shiny

_So, long story short, I got booted off my desk... and out of the office, into the nightclub to work on a handbook for the bars. And seeing as I'm at work on my laptop, I can update an extra chappy for ya!_

_Trizzy - I can't believe I'm converting D/L shippers! It amuses me too much! I hope you get your computer fixed soon! I know I can't live without mine!_

_Volonta forte - he didn't visit because I'm still trying to decipher what ship I am when it comes to Mac. Besides, he's trying to find the guys who mowed her down._

_RK9 - Maddy would hunt her down. I really need to create an OC for Hawkes though. Because you've made me realise the consequences of that would be hilarious! And I'm glad you like Taylor! (:D)_

_sparkyCSI - hahahaha, I hadn't even thought what the song was. I may have to research fish songs. I haven't had any time at all this week, so hopefully there will be something for you this weekend!_

_demolished-soul - it's not a problem. I quite like writing a chirpy Nixon. Thanks for letting me run with it!_

_TBD - It's not Sunday - it's Friday. (:D) So an extra update this week! Glad you've enjoy, and I'm glad you're still reading! I'm finding my ship again...!_

_meadow567 - Glad you liked (and in this story, she's staying with him!)_

_Swede85 - Hello, Dr Cox! Flack can see Maddy and Aiden, but that's it. And let me know when that law is written! lol_

_daytimedrama - hope you had a good vacation! Sorry to confuse you. I've been having, um, what's the phrase... second thoughts (maybe??) about D/L - it suddenly hit me!_

_Spoilers for 3x08: Consequences... eventually._

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 126: And of all a sudden there stood a shiny demon**

It took the CSIs and the O.C.C.B. exactly a week to make some arrests, with everyone, including Taylor, practically living at the lab 24/7. Ellis was still in ICU but he was doing better. Stella had been released from hospital. The day after was Eirik's funeral.

It was a full police affair, like Aiden's had been, with the sun beating down on them. For the most part, Taylor was resting against Flack's shoulder, watching the proceedings. He like the other CSIs and the O.C.C.B. was wearing their dress uniforms.

Danny was sitting just in front of them, Nixon at his side, who was clearly uncomfortable in the sombre suit she was wearing, but had also clearly worn it for Danny's benefit. She had even toned down her makeup, although Taylor was certain the eyeliner was in her pocket, ready to come out when the service was over.

She was right. After the service, the group headed to the local cop bar for a few drinks to celebrate Eirik's life. Nixon had disappeared into the bathroom, minutes after getting there, leaving Taylor by herself as Flack and Danny had gone to the bar.

'You know who Stella came to the funeral with?'

Taylor arched an eyebrow in the direction of her dead friend. 'Maddy. It's a funeral. It's not a date.'

Maddy shrugged. 'You can find love in the strangest places. Look at Danny and Nixon. She's hilarious, by the way.'

Taylor took a breath and turned. 'They've been dating two weeks. It's hardly love. And Ikaia lives two blocks over from Stella, and considering she can't drive, it was very thoughtful of him.'

'Well you're no fun,' Maddy scowled, sliding in the booth opposite.

'Maddy, I've just been to a _funeral_.'

'So have I. You'd be surprised how many people want to go to their own funeral.'

'It was quite nice,' said Eirik, appearing next to them with Aiden. 'Shame Ellis wasn't there to lighten the mood with his inappropriate jokes.' He turned to Aiden. 'I really wish you'd have hopped into that coffin and rapped on the lid. Now that would have lightened the mood.'

Taylor stared in disbelief. 'Oh my God, you're the male version of these two. It was a funeral. _Your_ funeral.'

'Yeah, but if you can't have fun at your own funeral, when can you?' Eirik asked her.

Taylor's mouth flapped open and closed as she struggled to find the words.

Next to him, Aiden shrugged. 'I told you she wouldn't approve.'

'You didn't think I'd approve?' Taylor hissed. 'You wanted to knock on the lid of a _coffin_ at a _funeral_! I wonder _why_ I don't approve?'

'Man, I wish I was sticking around,' Eirik sighed, glancing around the bar. 'I'm going to miss this. And I'm going to miss Zena.'

'You two were dating?' Taylor asked.

Eirik shook his head. 'Nope. But she was the one who was always "arresting" me. We could play off each other pretty well in front of the gang members.'

'You need me to pass on a message?'

'Nah. But you can do something for me.'

Taylor nodded. 'Sure. What?'

'There's a document on my email account. Password's tunafish. Get it for me, before they delete my account from the PD server.'

'What do you want to do with it?'

'That's my baby girl that my mother is holding. Make sure my mom gets that to give to her.'

Taylor looked over at the little girl. She was sat there, clearly not understanding what was happening as she played with her toys. 'Of course,' Taylor agreed.

'Anyway,' said Eirik. 'Her mom is waiting for me. I should go. I just wanted to say thank you. And whatever happens – don't give up.'

'Don't give up? Don't give up what?' Taylor demanded sharply. But the three of them disappeared.

'Who are you talking to, Nancy Drew?' Nixon as she bounded back into the seat opposite, looking more like her usual self.

'No one,' Taylor sighed. 'And how are you so cheerful?'

Nixon shrugged. 'It's a funeral. You're supposed to be.'

'Huh, what now?' Taylor stared at her, unsure if Nixon actually understood what a funeral was for.

'You're celebrating a great life and a transition into the next one,' Nixon explained, before glancing to the bar. 'How long does it take Blue Eyes to buy a drink?'

Taylor laughed, 'you ever going to call him Danny?'

'Probably not,' Nixon admitted. 'Only if he's been a naughty boy.'

'Okay, that just conjured up some mental images of Danny I really didn't need,' Taylor muttered, grateful as Flack and Danny returned and sat down.

They sat drinking their drinks in silence, until Nixon spoke. 'Scoot over Blue Eyes.'

Flack looked at her. 'Me?'

Nixon laughed. 'You're not Blue Eyes.' Flack stared at her. 'You're BFG.'

'What on earth does BFG stand for?' he asked the chirpy woman as she got out of the booth.

'Big Friendly Giant,' she told him before bounding away to the jukebox.

'Where did you find her?' Flack muttered to Danny as he sat back down.

'I like her,' Danny smiled.

'You look happy,' Taylor nodded. 'But what about Lindsay?'

'What about her?' Danny asked. 'She broke up with me. And it's not like I haven't introduced her to Nixon.'

'Introduced me to who?' Nixon asked as she returned.

'Lindsay,' Danny told her. 'I was explaining how you're helping me get over her.'

Taylor actually choked on her drink whilst Flack stared in amazement.

Nixon shrugged at them. 'If I'm the rebound girl, that's fine. But if grows into something more, that's better.' She squished the end of Danny's nose.

'That's…' Taylor trailed off, unsure of how to respond correctly to that statement.

'Refreshingly honest?' Danny suggested.

Taylor nodded. 'Yeah.'

'What's the point in keeping secrets?' Nixon asked. 'It only hurts more when they come out in the end.'

Flack pricked his head up and frowned. 'What is this?' he asked, refering to the song.

'Journey,' Nixon grinned at him.

'Journey?' Flack repeated.

Nixon glared at him. 'Do not insult the Journey.'

'But Journey…? So, what are you two doing tomorrow?' Flack asked.

'I'm taking Danny to see Disturbed,' Nixon informed them.

'Disturbed?' Flack repeated. 'Since when do you listen to Disturbed?'

Danny shrugged, 'She's coming to a baseball game next week.'

'I'm starting him small. I want him to come see Snog, but I'm going to have to introduce him to various types of music before he can fully appreciate Snog.' Nixon laughed, 'you can come if you like? Maybe I can get you to broaden your music tastes.'

'Actually,' said Taylor, 'I wouldn't mind. But Don has tomorrow off, and gho- good weather,' she quickly corrected herself before Nixon could notice, 'permitting, we can go view some apartments. We haven't had chance yet.'

-----------------------------------------------

By the end of the weekend, Taylor was exhausted. She and Flack had tried to cram as many viewings in as possible, through fear of being either disturbed by a ghost, or Flack not having another convenient day off for a while. Whilst Taylor hadn't had any visits from something without a pulse, neither had they found an apartment that they both liked.

They went their separate way after meeting with the realtor – Flack had had a call, and Taylor headed back to her apartment.

She settled down in front of her computer and pulled up the NYPD email Flack had saved on her computer and logged on as Eirik. She spotted the email straight away and downloaded the document. The first part was her (or whoever found it) instruction for getting the letter to Ceder, his daughter. The second part was a very moving letter to Ceder, explaining what he did, and how much he loved her. It was actually really sweet.

She printed it out and followed the instructions, popping both letters into an envelope for mailing the following day.

She was braving a packet of Easy Mac when the temperature dropped. 'I knew you were going to turn up,' she muttered into the microwave. 'Just answer me this, if I turn now, am I going to want to eat?'

'I'd say probably not,' Maddy told her.

Taylor sighed and put the macaroni down, and turned to face the latest visitors. 'Visitors' was probably the right word. Taylor let out a yelp and jumped backwards and into the counter. 'You have green blood!' she cried.

'Find him. Before it's too late.' The latest ghost told her, pointing upwards.

'The ceiling? The people above me?' Taylor asked, confused, staring at the man in a helmet – his face hidden by dark glass. She turned to Maddy. 'Seriously, are they _trying_ to see how hard they can make it?'

Maddy shrugged at her. 'I-'

'Can't answer that,' Taylor finished. 'Never mind. I'm getting my jacket.'

* * *

_Alright guys, I need your help!!!_

_Once upon a time, not so long ago, I would have called myself a diehard D/L shipper. Now, in the space of a week, I'm not sure. Do y'all __want Nixon to stick around, or should it be Lindsay? Because I really don't know any more! (:s) Well, I think I have my ship back, but I figure y'all should have a say! (:D)_

_Please help!_


	128. There's a cold feelin’ running up and

_Volonta forte - it's funny you should suggest that...! Btw, I'm getting the emails sent to you tonight (I'm at work on a different computer at the mo, otherwise I would send them now!_

_RK9 - Still dizzy ok, Lindsay! You did. Now I've just got to create someone! Oh, and thanks for the cookie!_

_CharmedMummy - Well, I hadn't even thought about it that way until you brought it up, but now I've rewritten the next chapters, so thanks for the idea!! And thank you!_

_sparkyCSI - I think the magic of her has worn off now. I think my original love is back. But I'm keeping her for a little while longer!_

_Alana Xavier1 - you make a good point there! I think the masses are speaking (and the responses are actually surprising me!)_

_meadow567 - I can't believe you're rereading this! You're mad, lol! It's going to take you ages!! (I'm giving nothing away for Gotham's Heroes!) Nixon is going to be around a little longer - I think I'm seeing where it's going now!_

_TBD - I've gone from early to late - life just exploded on me! But vote noted!_

_demolished-soul - he's coming back. I'm just not sure if it's going to be a long term thing!_

_Aphina - lol, if I was dead, I'd be with Eirik on that one! But as I'm not, I think I can understand Tay. Although, if I knew it was ghosts... (:p)_

_Swede85 - Hmmm, I think it should involve something sugary - the reward, I mean!_

_danaaa - Really? Cool! I guess it's a good thing for me that Lindsay is waaay ahead in the votes!_

_gottaluvcsi - Aw, really? I'm really happy to hear that! Thank you!_

_daytimedrama - /removes crowbars in the vicinity.../ ok, duely noted!_

_Spoilers for 3x08, Consequences. Thanks to sparkyCSI for betaing, and CharmedMummy for the suggestion with this chapter!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See **

**Chapter 127: There's a cold feelin' running up and down my spine **

'Hey Don, that call you got earlier?' Taylor had dialled Flack as soon as she had out her jacket on.

'_Yeah?'_

'What's the chance it involved someone in a,' she frowned into the phone, 'some form of protective suit, with a helmet. And green blood.'

'_Green blood? Green Paint?_' he offered._ 'Paintballer dead in a warehouse?' _

Taylor smiled, 'I am so glad it was you with the case. Who else is working it?'

There was a pause. '_Mac.'_

Taylor groaned. 'Great.'

'_He did let you research for him,' _he offered.

'Yeah, but you've just got to that scene, which means he's not going to be anywhere near the Magic Guard Fish, which means I have no chance.'

There was another pause. _'Has anyone told you how weird you are, recently?'_

------------------------------------------------------

A while later, Taylor was walking into the warehouse (after being let in by Faith and Bosco – it certainly helped knowing uniformed officers) and joined Danny.

'Evening, Drew,' Danny shouted at her.

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'How was Disturbed?'

Danny shrugged, crouching down besides the body. 'It was different.' He was still shouting.

Taylor stared at him and then the metaphorical light bulb switched on. 'Oh my God,' she laughed. 'She got pit tickets, didn't she?'

Danny looked up at her and glared. 'For the record, I was due a new pair of glasses.'

'What have we got?' Mac asked, joining them, staring at Taylor who was cackling away. 'Who let you in, Taylor?'

'I had a visitor,' she quickly told him, avoiding answering the question.

'Danny?' Mac turned to the CSI.

'Expensive marker, top of the line equipment. We've got a paintball pro here.'

'That explains the green blood,' Taylor muttered, looking at the drying green paint he was splattered with.

'We have a name?' Mac asked Danny, shaking his head at Taylor's comment.

Danny shook his head. 'No wallet, no ID. Gunshot wound to the shoulder.'

Mac crouched down beside him and rolled the body onto his side. 'Bullet's more than likely deformed,' he said, looking intently at the wound. 'Not a good chance it will get us a hit in IBIS.'

'Wound to the chest is a through and through. So we're looking for the bullet.'

'Find him, before it's too late.' The ghost pointed upwards again, before he and Maddy disappeared.

Taylor looked up to where he was pointing. 'You might want to start there,' she shrugged, pointing to a giant balloon soldier.

'It looks like we'll have to perform an autopsy on our wounded soldier.'

Taylor frowned. 'Could someone please explain to me why there's a giant inflatable soldier in here?'

'Macy's day parade,' Flack explained as he joined them.

'But it's _June_.'

'These things don't just come together over night, you know.'

-------------------------------------------------------

The coroner was packing up the body, Hawkes had arrived to cut up the balloon, Mac had disappeared and Flack had gone to knock on the doors of the surrounding apartments, leaving Taylor waiting for the ghost to show itself again. It didn't, and she was feeling slightly uncomfortable in the warehouse, so she stepped outside and found Danny following a paint trail down an alley.

Taylor yawned –it was getting late – and followed Danny.

'Nothing better to do, Drew, than stare at my ass all night?' he asked her, his back to her as he was bent over something on the ground.

'Pretty much,' Taylor shrugged. 'And you know you're still shouting, don't you?'

He looked up. 'Nixon had us under the speakers. I swear I can still feel my chest vibrating,' he added.

'What've you got?'

'Red in the green paint.'

Taylor crouched down beside him. 'Is it blood, or paint?'

Danny shrugged and pulled his kit over, swapped some of the red and dropped some phenophaline on it. He nodded. 'The red in the green paint is definitely blood. But I also found orange paintballs near the body in the warehouse and on the dumpster.'

'So there was another paintball player in the alley?' Taylor asked, looking at the paint splatter. 'That explains a lot. The ghost has been telling me to find someone. The person he was playing? Maybe their friendly little game turned serious and Mr. Green Paint traded his ammo in for the real thing.'

Danny peered at her. 'Mr. Green Paint? Man, I wish Stella wasn't stuck in the lab. She'd be slightly more helpful. If there was someone else here, where did he go? If you just shot someone, why would you run in this direction? There's no way out. You've got a dead end, a locked gate, and this door is locked.'

'Sorry for not being a criminalist,' Taylor shrugged. 'What about a car?'

Danny scanned the alley. 'Seems that the only way in and out for a vehicle is blocked. Paint trail starts there, leads here, and then just stops. I tell you, Tay. This guy got to this spot, and then, poof. He just disappeared.'

'And he what? Was abducted by aliens?'

Danny rolled his eyes.

'Alright, alright,' Taylor held up her hands. 'I get the picture. I'm going home. But don't be surprised if I'm back in ten minutes because I get another visit.'

------------------------------------------------

She wasn't. She was climbing out of the shower the following morning, wrapping a towel around her, when Maddy and the other ghost reappeared.

'Naked here, Maddy,' she screeched, practically falling backwards into the bathtub.

"I've got the same parts.' Maddy frowned, 'Well, I had the same parts. I still have the same parts – they're just slightly more transparent-'

'Madeline,' Taylor growled through her teeth, 'he hasn't. If I'm naked, no ghost visits.'

'Find him, before it's too late.'

Taylor whipped around to face the ghost. 'Hi, wearing a towel here,' she snapped at him.

'Hey, have some sympathy,' Maddy told her. 'He's just been killed.'

'That doesn't mean he gets to see me naked! Now get out. Let me get dressed. And then _maybe_ I'll listen to whatever Christmas cracker riddle he has for me!'

Two minutes later, Taylor stepped out into her front room, now clad in a pair of denim shorts, a white camisole, and a pair of flip flops, still slightly flushed, to find Maddy and the ghost waiting for her. 'What?' she asked him stonily.

'Find him, before it's too late.' And then he turned into an alien.

'This is punishment, isn't it?'

----------------------------------------------------

Her hair was still wet, and she was still in a bad mood when she arrived at the Crime Lab. Seeing Stella put a smile back on her face, even if she was limping around on crutches. 'Looking good,' she greeted her.

'I think I've got the hang of them. I just need to prove that I can carry a kit, process a scene, and chase a perp on them now,' Stella smiled at her.

'At least you're working in the lab.'

Stella laughed. 'I told Mac, in no uncertain terms, I was not sitting behind a desk for six weeks when I was still perfectly capable of working the Mass Spec. So what brings you here?'

'Aliens,' Taylor told her, shaking her head. 'I have no idea either,' she told Stella, seeing her bewildered expression. 'It started off with a missing paintballer, and now I can offer the explanation he was abducted by aliens.'

Stella laughed. 'Come on. I want to see Mac's face when you tell him that.'

Taylor shook her head. 'Hell is going to freeze over before I tell Mac there are aliens involved. I tell you, first ghosts, then demons, mermaids and aliens.'

'Oh my.'

'Huh?'

This time it was Stella's time to shake her head. 'Never mind.' She led them into the break room where Flack and Mac were talking. 'Our missing paintballer is Cyrus Menlo. And he's currently MIA.'

'We got half the PD looking for him,' Flack informed them, 'but none of his team mates or family have seen him since yesterday.'

Stella frowned. 'His father's adamant that Cyrus wouldn't have done something like this. They were even willing to give us a piece of his clothing. DNA from the ephithelials were a match to the blood found in the green paint in the alley.'

'I think Mr. Menlo doesn't know how competitive his son is,' said Mac.

'You know,' Taylor started, but she was interrupted by Lindsay.

'Hey, the black trace that Sid found on the gunshot wound of Kym Tanaka-'

'-is not gunshot residue,' Mac finished.

Lindsay nodded. 'Adam?'

'He got the same negative results from the trace I collected of the crates at the scene,' Mac confirmed.

Stella looked between the two of them. 'So if it's not GSR?'

'It's black cocaine,' Lindsay responded.

'What on earth is black cocaine?' Taylor asked. 'I mean, since when was cocaine colour coordinated?'

'It's produced by mixing pure cocaine with pherachloride or iron thiocyanate.'

'But why would you want to make different colour cocaine? Or is that the latest craze?' Taylor asked, still confused.

'Those chemicals turn the white cocaine powder to purple or black. It makes them undetectable in field drug tests or by drug sniffing dogs.'

'Oh,' Taylor mouthed.

Stella nodded. 'They usually hide or ship those drugs in printer toner cartridges.'

'Get out of here!' exclaimed Flack. 'You've got to have a master's degree in chemistry just to run drugs these days.'

Mac turned to Lindsay. 'Lindsay, check our narcotics database. Maybe we can trace the origin of the drugs to coke connected to any previous seizures with that chemical make up. Flack; see if you can get us a warrant to search those boxes in the warehouse. I'm thinking our vic walked into a big-money drug buy.'

'He got stiffed,' Flack nodded.

Stella frowned. 'That explains what happened to Kym Tanaka, but where's Cyrus Menlo?'

'I'll see how the search is going,' Flack told her before following Mac out of the room.

Lindsay looked from Stella to Taylor, gave Taylor an icy-cold glare, and also left.

'Whoa, where's my sweater?' Stella asked.

Taylor turned. 'You noticed that too?'

Stella nodded and shifted her weight. 'What did you do?'

Taylor shrugged. 'I don't know. I haven't spoken to her in ages.' She sighed. 'It's probably because she knows I'm here with a ghost. She doesn't approve or believe, and it doesn't look like she ever will.'

'She's got to come around eventually,' Stella told her.

'The temperature in this room dropped just then. I highly doubt it. Maybe I'll go talk to her.' She gave Stella a bright smile and stepped out into the corridor, intent on finding Lindsay. Which was when Maddy and the alien appeared again. 'You're actually serious with the whole alien thing, aren't you?' Taylor frowned.

'I don't control the clues,' Maddy shrugged.

Taylor sighed. 'I know. But don't you want me to find your killer?' she asked the alien.

The alien looked at Maddy.

Taylor joined its stare. 'Something you're not telling me?'

Maddy ran a hand through her fake blonde hair. 'Um, you're too involved.'

'Too involved?' Taylor laughed. 'How on earth do you work that one out? It's not like I killed him.'

Maddy looked down at the floor. 'Never mind. I shouldn't have said that.'

Taylor stared at her. 'You've just given too much away, haven't you?' Her eyebrows burrowed together as she tried to decipher what Maddy had told her. 'You can't be talking about one of the CSIs, can you?'

' Taylor, you should really forget I said anything,' Maddy pleaded with her. 'The last thing you want to do is get involved with that side of the case. Please.'

'Why not?' Taylor demanded. 'The worse that's going to happen is I get banned from the lab.'

'Please Taylor, just drop it.'

'Drop it?' Taylor stared at her. 'The last time I didn't decipher a clue fast enough, someone got hurt, and someone else died.'

Maddy bit her lip. 'If I tell you this, I don't want to get blamed for screwing up your life.'

'Maddy, I'm seeing aliens. My life is already screwed up.'

'Your love life.'

Taylor's eyes grew to the size of saucers. 'You're trying to tell me Don is involved?'

Maddy nodded miserably.

'Don couldn't kill someone!' Taylor told her incredulously.

'I didn't say he did,' Maddy sighed. 'But he was on a bust, and someone else is involved. And it's all going to fall onto Don.'

Taylor felt sick to her stomach. 'Who?'

Maddy opened her mouth, but suddenly vanished, leaving a very confused Taylor standing in the corridor with a very lost looking alien.

Which was when Aiden appeared.

'Where's Maddy?' Taylor demanded. 'What evil spirit has got her?'

'The Powers That Be,' Aiden informed her solemnly.

'The Powers That Be?' Taylor repeated.

'She shouldn't have told you that,' Aiden told her. 'Which means I've got Maddy's job, for now.' She gave the alien a reassuring smile and the pair disappeared before Taylor could ask exactly what was going to happen with Maddy, and what exactly was going on with Flack.

* * *

_Oh, peaple! I am feeling sooo tired. Freshers Week is about to hit, and it would appear I'm pretty much working 18hour days for the next two and a half weeks! Updating is therefore going to be problematic, but hopefully we'll be back on track soon!_

_In other news, for all of you in the UK at uni, be warned. The LEA can reassess you _after_ you've finished your degree! They did me, even though I have my degree and everything, and they've taken nearly a grand back which I now owe the Uni!_


	129. Nobody believes me when I tell them that

_CharmedMummy - I have a plan to encorporate the Third Watch firefighters, actually. Not a complete story line, bit I do intend on bringing them in, lol!_

_Trizzy - You are! It didn't start out this bumpy, but many alterations later, this is what happened! And yeah, you may be right on the other matter too (:p)_

_sparkyCSI - your suggestions did help! Thank you! (There will be some chapters sent to you soon, I hope. I'm exhausted!!_

_demolished-soul - I'm not 'killing' Maddy off! I kinda like having her around! I thought the episode was brilliant - probably one of my favs in the season._

_meadow567 - is that anything like Theme Park? (and I may have just made the name of that game up! (:s))_

_Horatiofan101 - Don't worry about not reviewing - I'm feeling bad about not posting! And I can certainly appreciate the lack of time_

_RK9 - ah, I can't take the cookie - it took ages for me to update! Maddy may be in trouble... And I'm really sorry that it took so long for me to update!_

_Swede85 - I have decided, and the votes are swung in Lindsay's favour. Which surprised me, actually! Ok, I will not be mean to Stella, or I will face the consequences!_

_Volonta forte - I have no idea what happened with that email, I'm resending it. Stella on crutches is quite a funny idea, probably because she would do it! lol_

_There are spoilers for an episode, but I can't for the life of me remember which episode number it was - maybe 3x08, Consequences. And this chapter has been partially beta'd but I posted it before SparkyCSI could check the alterations I made - sorry hun, I figured that it would be weekend before I could post, otherwise!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See **

**Chapter 128: Nobody believes me when I tell them that you're out of your mind **

Taylor's head was reeling. How on earth could they drop that bombshell on her and then rip Maddy from her hands? So she went to the source.

'Hey Tay,' Flack greeted her as he put his phone down. He watched her sit down in the chair next to his desk. ' Taylor, is everything alright?'

Taylor frowned. 'I don't know. Maddy was telling me something, and then she disappeared.'

'I thought they bailed out on you all the time?'

'I think this was different,' Taylor sighed, still frowning.

'Is there anything I can do?' he asked her softly.

Taylor shook her head. 'Not really.' She took a deep breath. 'Can I ask you something?'

'Of course,' Flack responded instantly, still looking worried.

'I'm confused about this case,' she began.

Flack gave her a reassuring smile. 'We'll find Menlo.'

Taylor shook her head. 'It's not Menlo I'm worried about. It's the other guy.'

'Kym Tanaka.'

Taylor nodded.

'Look, I know they like to throw the science around, but black cocaine isn't that uncommon. I've come across it before.'

Taylor's heart sank. 'You have?' she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Flack nodded. 'Sure have. Just before I ended up in hospital from the bomb blast at the _Daily_. Drugs bust in Harlem.'

'Really?' Taylor asked, trying to remain bright. 'Who else was with you?'

'Couple of uniforms, Cruz and Truby,' he nodded his head in the direction of the two detectives he was talking about.

Both felt Taylor staring at them and looked up, giving her a confused smile. Taylor smiled back, before turning her attention back to Flack.

' Tay, are you alright?' Flack asked her. 'You've gone pale.'

'Can we go for a walk?' she asked.

Flack gave her a searching stare, but nodded.

-------------------------------------

'Are you going to tell me what's on your mind?' Flack asked as they began walking up Broadway.

Taylor stopped and grabbed Flack's hand. 'I have to tell you something. And you're not going to like it.'

Flack squeezed her hand. ' Taylor, baby, you can tell me anything,' he told her earnestly.

'God I hope so,' she muttered under her breath. 'Maddy disappeared because she told me something she shouldn't have.'

Flack arched an eyebrow. 'I thought she told you things she shouldn't all the time.'

'Don,' Taylor pleaded with him. 'Please.'

Flack nodded.

Taylor took a deep breath. 'She told me that you might be too involved in this case.'

Flack's eyes became a dark, stormy blue instantly, as he glared at her. 'Are you accusing me of murder?'

Taylor shook her head vigorously. 'God, no! But I think that one of the detectives who were on that bust with you might have.'

Flack didn't just drop her hand; he practically threw it back at her. 'So now Maddy is going around telling everyone that my colleagues, my _friends_ are bent? _Murderers_?'

Taylor flinched at the venom in his voice, but stood her ground. 'Don, they found black cocaine on Tanaka.'

'And like I told you, black cocaine isn't exactly uncommon!' he roared at her.

'Yeah? And how many busts have you been on where black cocaine was involved?' Taylor shouted back at him, knowing as she did, that shouting wasn't the right way to go.

Flack took a step forward. 'More than I'm going to share with you.'

The anger flew from Taylor as quickly as it appeared. 'Don, I'm coming straight to you, I'm telling you what Maddy told me.'

'Well, it's all a bunch of bull,' he told her – the anger was still coursing through his veins. 'Maybe you should just sit down and decipher the clue that the ghost gave you, rather than jump to the worst possible assumption.'

Taylor stepped back, feeling like she had been slapped. 'What?'

'You heard me,' Flack told her coldly. 'You're not exactly brilliant at working out what all these clues mean, are you?'

Taylor stared open mouthed at him.

'And maybe you should learn to take more stock in the living. Cruz and Truby are good cops, good men. I think I trust something with a pulse. At least you know they're real.' He turned and began storming away.

Taylor stared at his retreating back in confusion, before taking off after him. 'Don,' she shouted as she weaved through the crowds (even though she wasn't really seeing them). 'Don!'

He stopped and turned so suddenly that Taylor practically ran into him. 'What, Taylor? You want to accuse me of something else now?'

'I'm not accusing you of anything,' Taylor told him. 'I just wanted to give you a heads-up before Mac got on the case.'

'The only way Mac's going to get on the case is if you go running to him,' he told her icily.

'I'm not going to say anything,' Taylor told him. 'And I swear to God, I hope I'm wrong.'

'You are wrong, Taylor. Very wrong.' He turned and headed back to the station.

This time, Taylor watched him go. It wasn't until he was gone from sight that she realised that she was crying.

-------------------------------------------

Taylor wandered morosely through the lab. Maddy still hadn't appeared, she couldn't find anyone other than Mac, (and she wasn't about to spill her guts to him!) and Adam, who again, she wasn't thrilled at the prospect of sharing with. He told her that Lindsay had disappeared to the canteen for a coffee, so Taylor, needing to talk, decided to find her.

She found Lindsay pouring over a file in the canteen a while later. 'Mind if I join you?'

She just got a glare back in return.

Taylor frowned and took a seat opposite anyway. 'Look, I'm sorry.'

'Sure you are,' Lindsay muttered.

'Alright, I'm not,' Taylor shrugged. 'I'm not trying to tread on any toes here – I'm just trying to help.'

'Help? By doing what? By sticking your nose in and getting in the way?'

Taylor stared at her, confused at the bitterness in her voice. _Surely Flack hadn't said anything??_ 'I didn't think I was in anybody's way. I'm really not doing more than speculating.'

Lindsay scoffed. 'Speculating? You're telling him everything will be alright and to move on.'

_No, she was still upset about the ghost_. 'That's generally what I'm supposed to do. Although I shouted at him today, rather than tell him things are fine.'

Lindsay narrowed her eyes. 'Do you think that could be because he's now temporarily deaf?'

Taylor's forehead wrinkled up as she tried to think about the ghost – sure, he was still wearing his helmet, but she wouldn't go so far as to call him deaf. 'I shouted at him for watching me climb out of the shower.'

'Well that's just great,' Lindsay cried, slamming her hand on the table. 'Does Flack know?'

Taylor frowned. 'About what?'

'_About what?_' Lindsay repeated. 'About him watching you shower.'

'I don't think he was watching me shower, but no; I haven't had a chance to tell him yet,' Taylor frowned. 'It's not like he could do anything anyway.'

'Other than punch him?' Lindsay suggested angrily.

'Well I suppose he could try, but he'd probably miss.'

'What? With that fat head? I highly doubt it!'

'Well, I was going for the fact the Don can't see ghosts,' Taylor frowned at her in confusion.

Lindsay glared at her. 'Funny, but I'm not about to murder Danny. However tempting that may be.'

'Danny?' Taylor cried incredulously. 'What the _hell_ has Danny got to do with anything?'

'Because he's the one that leapt straight onto that _tramp_ you set him up with.'

It took a second for the penny to drop and Taylor to realise that they were having two separate conversations. 'Look, I came here because I thought you were annoyed about the ghosts. I'm not apologising for setting Danny up with Nixon – who's not a tramp, for the record – and if you must know, I was trying to do that for your benefit anyway.'

'Yeah, I can see that,' Lindsay responded dryly.

'You know what, Lindsay? I don't care. He's happy now. He's not hiding the fact he's in a relationship, and she's not hiding anything from him. Maybe if you'd have been honest with him, he'd be slightly deaf from the Keith Urban concert you'd taken him to instead.' Taylor got to her feet. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a UFO to look for, and a friend to find.' She turned on her heel and walked away, pausing briefly only to smile at Mac who was making his way over to the table Lindsay was still occupying.

-------------------------------------------

Taylor was lost in thought, pacing up and down one of the corridors she wasn't seeing properly as she wore track marks into the floor. She had tried calling Maddy, Aiden, even Tanaka, but the only response she had gained was strange looks off the random passing lab techs.

Now, she was replaying the conversation she had had with Maddy, trying to work out if she _had_ misunderstood it – that Flack was right. But no matter how many times she thought about it, she hadn't. She was growing more frustrated with everything when her phone rang, breaking her out of her thoughts.

She glanced down at the caller ID. 'Hi Don.'

_'Where are you?'_ he demanded.

Taylor glanced down the corridor. 'By the interview rooms on the eleventh floor. What do you need?'

_'Stay there.' _

Taylor sighed into the dial tone and slipped the phone back into her pocket.

It didn't take long for him to find her. When he did, he pushed open the door to one of the interview rooms, waiting for Taylor to walk in.

Taylor shot him a puzzled look, but walked in and around to the other side of the table where she stood, waiting patiently for him to speak. Taylor winced as Flack slammed the door behind him, before dumping a slightly squished, half-eaten hot dog in front of him. 'You told him?!'

Taylor took a deep breath and sat down. 'Just so I know we're having the same conversation, told who?' she asked wearily, hoping that she wasn't on the same wavelength.

'Mac!' Flack shouted at her, slamming his fist on the table.

Taylor flinched. 'I haven't told anyone. I promised you I wouldn't.'

'Really? Then tell me why Mac had the audacity to question my guys, to question _me,_ over a drug bust. And _then_ he tells me he's asking as a _friend!_ ' he asked her as he began pacing around the room.

Taylor took a breath. 'Could it be because Mac came to the same conclusion, by himself, that I tried to tell you earlier?'

'That black cocaine they found traces of at the crime scene?'

Taylor nodded, watching his eyebrows disappear into his hairline with his indignation.

'I knew it! I knew you'd tell him.'

Taylor stared sadly at him. 'Don, I didn't tell him.'

'Well, apparently, the only cocaine with that exact chemical make up was confiscated by my team in a bust a few months back, and then destroyed. So do you want to tell me why Mac now has the nerve to question me as to whether or not all of it was handed in? He may as well have hauled me into an interrogation room.'

'What? Like you hauled me into one?' Taylor asked him, arching an eyebrow. She pushed her chair back, scraping it across the floor. She started to rise to her feet but Flack was there pushing her back down. 'Don, back in the lab, he told Lindsay to run the chemical make up of that cocaine against anything else in the system,' Taylor told him. He was heading in the right direction of scaring her. 'Was he accusing you?'

'He may as well have been,' Flack told her. 'It was my team, and they were my guys. My guys are the good guys. He must have ballsed up that test because his results are wrong.'

Taylor bit her lip. She and Mac had had a few run-ins recently, but if there was something she was sure of, he would have double checked, triple checked, those results. 'What did you tell him?' she asked, rather than voicing the thoughts.

'I told him I'd save him a little bit of time. None of my guys took a thing. _The same thing I told you._'

'And what did he say to that?'

'He demanded my memo book off me – I was the recorder on scene that day – as a friend, of course,' Flack added bitterly.

'Are you going to give it to him?' Taylor asked, knowing she was treading on dangerous ground.

'Of course I'm not going to give it him!' Flack exclaimed. 'He has no right to ask me for that, like you had no right to tell Mac the crazy idea you concocted.'

'Don, I didn't tell him,' Taylor told him, trying to push the lump in the back of her throat away. 'And I'm beginning to wish to hell, I hadn't told you. But has it crossed your mind that maybe we're both right?

Flack's eyes narrowed. 'Are you siding with Mac?'

'I didn't realise there were sides,' she told him, her voice remaining calm. 'I was merely suggesting that you find proof that he, Maddy and I are wrong. Surely that can't be too hard to disprove the three of us,' she muttered, somewhat sarcastically.

Flack glared at her.

'You know what, Flack? Screw this. I'm not going to continue to defend my actions when I shouldn't have to. And I'm not a suspect. The next time you want to ask me something, you can do it somewhere other than an interrogation room. At least Mac had the decency to do that for you.' Taylor rose back to her feet and stormed past Flack, out of the room, and slammed the door behind her.

* * *

_I looked at my diary yesterday. I've worked 29 day in a row (and I won't get a day off now until sunday) and, well, last week was a 90 hour week - the others in that time frame have all been above 40 too. Thankfully, the hours should be dropping back down to normal, so I should be able to post a little more consistently soon!_


	130. And I can't erase the mistakes that I've

_sparkyCSI - I'm glad they work - I've been having so many issues with these chapters!_

_UnspokenFaith - it's ok, I'm behind on my updating! Dean? Sorry, Dean's not going to be making an appearance for a long time!_

_demolished-soul - She does know that, so she's not going to push him! I have today off (Yay!) which is my first in 33 days. (:c) Maddy will be back!_

_meadow567 - well, I hope this is something near what you were expecting! It has been giving me a headache! lol_

_CharmedMummy - thank you very much! These chapters have taken a hell of a lot of editing and I think I'm finally happy with them. Once Flack gets over his stubborness, there will be much owing of treats!_

_RK9 - I think I'm back on track now. I hope. He is, but I think I understand why he is. Or at least, in my head I do! lol. I have no idea if that made sense._

_miss wizard of oz - Daylor? They've become a ship now? Cool! And yeah, you can continue to pamper Danny!_

_Ok, so, still spoilers for 3x08, Consequences. And big thanks to sparkyCSI (for beta-ing) but also for her help, with Aphina, for helping me get my head (which was lost at work) around these next few chapters!_

**

* * *

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 129: And I can't erase the mistakes that I've made **

She was hiding in the ladies bathroom, reapplying her slightly watery makeup when Aiden, Eirik and the ghost… alien… of Kym turned up, causing her to stab herself in the eye with her mascara.

'What are you doing here?' she asked Eirik, blinking back the new wave of tears. 'Where's Maddy.'

'Maddy's getting a bollocking, and she's been taken off this case,' Aiden told her. 'Eirik's stepping in.'

Taylor stared miserably at them. 'Well, you can find someone else. Because I quit.'

'You can't quit,' Eirik told her.

'What are you going to do?' Taylor asked him. 'Sue me for breaking a contact I never signed?'

Aiden smiled patiently. 'Look, I know you're upset-'

'Upset? Oh, you _really_ don't want to go down that road.'

'Look, you can't give up,' Eirik all but pleaded with her.

Taylor's eyes narrowed. 'You knew.'

'Come again?'

'You knew,' Taylor repeated. 'You told me not to give up. You _knew_ this was coming. And you let it happen anyway.'

' Taylor, we know a lot of things, but we can't act on any of it,' Aiden told her.

'Find him, before it's too late.'

Taylor rubbed at her forehead. 'Look, aliens don't exist,' she snapped. 'And even if they did, what do you expect me to do? Nip to NASA, borrow a shuttle, and track down a little green kidnapper? Because I don't think NASA would believe me. Couldn't you give me something a little less extra-terrestrial to go on?'

'Find him, before it's too late,' the alien repeated, before turning into a… bear?

Taylor slammed her head against the mirror, knowing resistance was futile. 'Give me a break,' she muttered into the glass.

'What's the matter?' Eirik asked her. 'This case becoming a little too much to bear?'

Taylor raised her head. 'You _so_ didn't?!'

'I'm sorry,' Eirik apologised with a grin. 'That was a little un_bear_able, wasn't it?'

Taylor shot him a withering glare as she grabbed her purse, thrust her makeup into it and headed towards the door.

'Someone's a little _grizzly_, aren't they?'

'You are so lucky you are already dead,' Taylor muttered as she stalked out of the bathroom.

Her unimpressed expression remained plastered onto her face as she returned to the lab and found Stella.

'E.T. back?' Stella asked, noting her mood.

'E.T.? Try Yogi Bear and a ghost who thinks he's the next Jim Carey,' Taylor fumed.

Danny, who had been looking over some evidence, looked up. 'On what planet was that supposed to make sense?'

Taylor threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. 'Great! And now you're in on it.'

Danny looked completely lost. 'Huh?'

'Eirik with the bear jokes, you with the alien ones? God, who did I piss off in a past life?' she moaned.

Danny laughed. 'I still have no idea what you're on about.'

'Taylor's getting visits from little green men,' Stella explained with a grin.

'I am not getting a visit from _little green men_. I'm getting a visit from a ghost who thinks he's a comedian, with his comedy sidekick who is no longer an alien, but a bear.'

Danny and Stella stared at her.

'They give me clues,' Taylor sighed. 'But instead of spelling it out for me, they give me half the letters and a clue in garbledy-gook. Only this time, the clues are in _Pictionary_ form.'

'A bear, huh?' Danny asked her.

Stella frowned. 'Hang on, Eirik?'

Taylor shut her eyes with a wince. 'Yeah. Maddy told me something she shouldn't have, and now she's getting pulled from the case, so I'm left with Eirik.'

'Eirik as in, Eirik whose funeral we went to last week.

Taylor nodded glumly.

'Hey guys,' Adam greeted them cheerfully as he bounded into the lab. He stopped when he spotted Taylor.

'Adam,' Danny nodded back.

'Hey Danny, you remember that rust stuff you found in the alley?'

Danny looked at him in amazement. 'Rust stuff? _Rust stuff_? Respect the time it took me to collect that and at least call it trace.'

Taylor laughed. 'Defensive much?'

'Can it, Liz.'

'_Liz?'_

'Yeah. You know. _Roswell_. Liz Parker? She saw aliens everywhere?'

Stella cleared her throat. 'Adam. The rust stuff?'

Adam blinked. 'The trace contained traces of molasses and non-human blood.'

Taylor held her hand up. 'Please tell me it was bear blood.'

Adam's mouth hit the floor. 'How did you know that?' he asked in disbelief.

'Thank you,' Taylor mouthed to the ceiling.

Stella poked Adam in the side. 'You were saying?'

'Yeah,' he continued, still staring in amazement at Taylor. 'North American Grizzly Bear, to be exact. But wait, there's more,' he frowned and looked at Taylor. 'Do you know what I'm about to say about this as well?'

'Adam?' said Stella prompted.

Adam nodded and led them over to the evidence he had been processing. 'The blood on this rock is a match to Cyrus Menlo, but it's also a match to the blood found on these leaves,' he told them.

'Both human blood, right?' Danny asked him.

'Right,' he picked up the leaves, 'and if you put them together like this…'

Taylor stared at it. 'You've got one leaf with a hole in the middle of it?'

Adam nodded. 'A hole probably made from a spike or something with a jagged edge. Right? Huh? See where I'm going here?'

Whereas Taylor stared blankly at him, Stella was catching on. 'Bear blood, molasses, leaves with human blood on them, a spike and a jagged edge… you're talking bear trap.'

Adam clapped his hands together in excitement and pointed at her. 'Yes, you win the washer and dryer.'

It seemed Danny was almost as confused as Taylor was. 'Whoa, help me out here. You're telling me Cyrus Menlo was caught in a bear trap?'

Adam nodded at him. 'Yeah.'

'Great,' Danny muttered.

Taylor sighed. 'Well I suppose a bear trap makes more sense than aliens. Although I would like to know how many bears they expected to catch in the middle of the city.'

Adam gave her another funny look. 'It's the only conclusion we can arrive at with this evidence,' he told her defensively.

Danny shook his head. 'So Tanaka sets the bear trap, leads Cyrus Menlo down the alley, Tanaka goes into the warehouse…'

'And BANG!' Adam yelled, making Taylor jump. 'Tanaka gets shot. Cyrus steps out, steps in the trap, Tanaka bleeds to death inside the warehouse.' He looked over at Danny and grinned. 'Moral of the story? Stick with bowling.'

Danny burst into laughter.

Taylor looked helplessly at Stella who just shook her head in amusement.

'Ok,' said Stella. 'Let's say we buy that story. First of all, why didn't Tanaka just lead him into the trap? He didn't need to go into the warehouse. More importantly, if Cyrus Menlo were stuck in a bear trap, how did he get out of the alley?'

'Aliens?' Taylor suggested.

Danny rolled his eyes. 'The rust stuff. There was directionality. There were drag marks. So he could have dragged himself outta there with the old and rusty bear trap still on his leg.'

'That is just wrong,' Taylor muttered as her stomach began to churn.

Stella frowned. 'But we've checked all the hospitals and emergency rooms. His family haven't seen or heard from him. I mean, if he got himself out of the alley, don't you think he'd go for some help?'

'Not if he just whacked somebody,' Danny shrugged.

Taylor stared at him. 'He has a bear trap attached to his leg. What do you think he did? Rented a room and twiddled his thumbs?'

'Which still begs the question,' Stella interrupted. 'Where the hell is he?'

Danny sighed. 'I say we go back to where we know he was last. Let's look over the evidence from the alley.' He turned to Adam and smiled. 'Thanks for confusing us.'

'You're welcome.'

------------------------------------

'I see a look of victory. Who are we taking down?' Taylor asked, seeing the pleased expressions that were creeping over Danny and Stella. The three had remained in the lab, analysing evidence. Well, Danny and Stella had been analysing the evidence. Taylor had been staring miserably at the side, not noticing the looks Stella and Danny were sharing, as she replayed the arguments with Flack until she had glanced up at Danny's exclamation of 'Boom!'

Danny looked up at her. 'Daryn Kramer. 1282 Lafayette.' He looked over at Stella. 'That's two doors down from the crime scene. '

Stella smiled. 'See these little pieces of paper? They were crinkled together like an accordion.' She squished them back up to show Taylor.

'Please tell me you've not managed to work out what happened from some scraps of paper?' she asked in disbelief.

Stella nodded. 'They were stripped from the box because of friction underneath. The box was dragged.'

Taylor frowned. 'Surely there would need to be pressure on top?'

'Like Cyrus Menlo's unconscious body?' Stella suggested. 'It's a quick an easy way to get him out of there.'

'So you're saying Cyrus Menlo was unconscious and dragged from the alley?' Danny asked.

'Yeah,' Stella confirmed.

'But what makes you think it's Daryn Kramer? Anyone could have grabbed this box and used it,' Taylor asked.

'Right. That's why I love this job so much,' Stella grinned. 'Okay, you see this black trace right here?' she pointed to a fingerprint. 'Black cocaine.'

Danny smiled back. 'Wow. Maybe we should ask Daryn Kramer some questions.'

'You took the words right out of my mouth.'

Danny frowned. 'Did Mac clear you for questioning suspects?'

Stella arched an eyebrow. 'I'll be sitting behind a desk. That's hardly field work.'

Danny shrugged. 'Just checking.'

The two of them left, leaving Taylor, who headed to the break room. She wasn't surprised when Eirik turned up again with Kym, who was back to being an alien. 'Start with any lame jokes and I'm squishing you into one of those containers with a fume hood,' she warned her dead friend's replacement.

'Taylor, I didn't want this.'

'Find him, before it's too late.'

Taylor frowned and slumped onto the couch. 'I realise that I'm going to get that sentence as a reply to my question, but is there any chance we could focus on _who_ killed you, rather than your friend?'

'Find him, before it's too late.'

'I tried, Don,' she muttered. 'Alright. Aliens.' She watched the ghosts disappear. And then she stared laughing so hard that she started to cry. She was getting visits from aliens. _Aliens who were talking to her?'_

When she calmed down, and wiped her face, she decided to find Adam. The alien was giving her nothing to go on with who killed him, and trying to talk to Flack would be like writing her own death sentence. So she hunted Adam out. If nothing else, watching him and Danny was actually kind of cute, and she was certain he would actually find it fun to see how aliens related to this case. If only she could get him to look for the extraterrestrial without letting on why.

He was in one of the labs, pouring over a rock, when she walked in.

'Hi Adam,' she greeted him cheerfully. 'Whatch'ya doin'?'

Adam looked at her suspiciously. 'Why?'

Taylor shrugged. 'I'm bored?' she offered.

'Running an analysis on a piece of rock,' he told her after weighing her up. 'Does Mac know you're in here? Because I don't want to get in trouble for letting a reporter snoop around.'

'I'm not a reporter,' she informed him coolly. 'My current article is on eBay scams – internet fraud. Nothing to do with paintballs and aliens.'

Adam looked sharply at her.

'I meant missing people,' Taylor hastily corrected herself.

'You know, it's funny you should say aliens,' Adam mused thoughtfully, staring at the rock in front of him.

'You're still on about aliens?' Danny asked, walking into the lab, shaking his head. 'You paged, Adam?'

Adam's excitement suddenly skyrocketed as Danny joined them. 'Check this out. It's a piece of the moon.'

Taylor blinked. 'A piece of the what now?'

'A moon rock,' Adam told them – Danny was just as surprised as she was. Adam nodded. 'Yeah, this rock is from the moon.'

'From the moon?' Danny repeated.

Adam continued to nod – jiggling slightly from his enthusiasm. 'From outer space!'

'Get outta here! Wow!' Danny exclaimed, picking the rock up to examine it. 'How did a piece of the moon end up out there in the alley?'

'Aliens?' Taylor asked hopefully, earning her a strange look off both men.

Adam frowned. 'I don't know. This stuff is illegal to have. And somebody went to a lot of trouble to get it. I mean, I've seen this stuff listed on eBay before, you know, and most of it isn't real, if it is, short of going to the moon, they'd have to steal it from NASA.' He turned quickly to Taylor. 'You can't quote me on that!'

Taylor patted him patiently on the arm. 'Don't worry. I won't.'

Danny looked between the two of them and shook his head. 'Something happened in that alley, and I don't think it had anything to do with anything in the warehouse.'

'Two cases in the same case?' Taylor stared at him. That would explain why Kym was more concerned about finding Cyrus, rather than finding his killer.

Behind them, the computer beeped. Adam looked over at Danny. 'That would be whatever you left running before you disappeared.

Danny walked over to the computer. 'Got a match on that print I lifted on the box in the alley. Huh?' he stared at the result. 'Not what I expected. Print is from a woman.'

'Not from an alien, then?' Taylor muttered in disappointment.

Adam turned to her. 'I'm sorry, but what is this obsession with aliens?'

'I'm waiting for someone to collect Danny and take him home,' she told him, deadpan, earning her a smack upside the head from Danny.


	131. I never ever can remember all the things

_Lozzarooni - you have no need to worry on the reviewing front. I'm just really happy to hear that you're still reading. I've now watched all of S4 thus far, and other than the Mac storyline (I don't want to give too much away) I'm loving it. Even the theme music has grown on me. The bunnies wont leave me alone (plot bunny and real ones) I have so much in store. Which worries me, because I think I may have to end this story at some point!_

_Thoren - no it didn't, and thank you very much! Sorry to have kept you waiting!_

_demolished-soul - Maddy's fine. She's just in the doghouse with TPTB._

_RK9 - don't apologise for the madness! It still gets me laughing! I didn't intend on writing the angst. It just happened (:s)_

_sparkyCSI - all I can do is continue to thank you! Hopefully we'll all be online tonight, for once_

_Trizzy - you know, I watched Danny in that harness, and all I could think was "why the hell isn't he wearing a helmet?". Not that it would do much good if he plummeted to his death... clearly, I have my priorities in order (!) I want a cat! One I can train to live with fish and rabbits!_

_meadow567 - sorry it took so long, but here you go!_

_Aphina - well, thats because I had some great help on them! _

_miss wizard of oz - very well, I shall accept the new ship! lol. Glad you found it funny!!_

_Um, still spoilers for 3x08, consequences. And big thanks to sparkyCSI and Aphina because they really helped with this chapter!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 130: I never ever can remember all the things that go bump in the night**

'Let it be known, Danny hits ladies,' Taylor declared as she and the man in question joined Stella and Flack (still play-fighting with each other, of course).

'You're no lady,' Danny scoffed.

Taylor glared at him, hands on hips. 'You wanna repeat that, Messer?'

Stella stuck one of her crutches between them and pushed them away from each other. 'I tell you, it's like looking after children,' she muttered in Flack's direction.

Taylor froze when she actually realised Flack was in there, and he was glaring at her.

'Do I want to ask?' Flack asked Danny, pointedly ignoring Taylor – something that the rest of them picked up on instantly.

'Taylor's getting visits from aliens,' Danny told him.

Taylor nodded, staring at the ghost of Kym – still looking like an alien, who had appeared behind Flack.

'Find him, before it's too late. Please.'

'Look, he's telling me to find him. He even asked please. I think it's getting desperate now,' she told the three, chewing on her lip.

Danny nodded and handed the picture of their suspect to Flack and Stella. 'Trina Roubian.'

Flack frowned. 'I think I talked to her.' He pulled his memo book out and flicked through it.

'Nice,' said Danny. 'And?'

Flack nodded finding his note. 'She's the one who said…' he trailed off and glanced at Taylor. 'Who said she was abducted by aliens.'

'Oh look, that came from a ghost,' she muttered, although she was glaring pointedly back at Flack.

'Danny, we're going paying this _nut job_ a visit,' Flack informed Danny, still glaring at Taylor.

Taylor's eyes narrowed as Flack turned and stormed from the room.

Danny looked from Flack's retreating back to Taylor, who was still glaring at Flack, before shrugging helplessly at Stella. Stella nodded at him, and he charged out after Flack.

'Have I missed something?' Stella asked her in confusion.

Taylor turned her head. 'Nothing a piece of two-by-four wouldn't fix.'

Stella's mouth hit the floor. 'Alright, what the hell happened?'

---------------------------------------------

Taylor was glaring at Stella's wall as she finished her story. Stella had led her to her office, sat her down, and demanded she spill.

'Oh dear,' Stella sighed.

Taylor nodded glumly.

'I think you're going to have to talk to him.'

Taylor stared at her. 'He's the one in the wrong.'

'Yeah, but this is Don we're talking about.'

'I know!' Taylor cried. 'But he's still the one in the wrong.'

Stella nodded patiently. 'He needs you, Taylor.'

'Yeah,' Taylor scoffed. 'And he has me.'

'Taylor, Don doesn't see shades of grey very often. And Cruz and Truby are his colleagues – he trusts them.'

'Yeah, I know. He trusts them more than me.'

'Now we both know that's not the case.'

Taylor sighed. 'I know. It just... it doesn't feel like that at the minute.'

---------------------------------------------

She knew they had found Cyrus when Kym and Eirik appeared. Kym was finally human again, clad in white, and looking peaceful.

'He's on his way to hospital,' he informed Taylor.

Taylor let out a sigh of relief. 'Thank you.' She took a breath. 'And what about your killer?'

Kym looked at Eirik.

'Your job was to help Cyrus,' Eirik told her.

'Maybe I have slightly selfish reasons for asking,' Taylor sighed, pulling a face.

'And that's why we're not telling you,' Eirik finished.

'Fine,' Taylor resigned.

'Anyway. Thank you,' Kym told her.

'You're welcome,' she responded before the two vanished. She glanced down at her watch. She had a few things to do, but Stella's words of advice were repeating over and over in her head. With a sigh, she left the lab and headed across to the precinct and to Flack's still vacant desk.

She was chatting to Angell when Flack returned looking tired. He stopped when he saw Taylor perched on his desk. 'Taylor,' he greeted her coolly.

Angell looked between the two and gave them an uncomfortable smile. 'Well, you two clearly need to talk, so I'm going to go and pretend to do some paperwork.'

'What do you want, Taylor,' Flack asked her, sinking onto his desk.

Taylor took a breath, determined to keep her cool. 'I came to see how things went.'

'We found Menlo. He's in hospital,' he told her shortly.

'That's good,' Taylor muttered.

'Why are you really here?' Flack asked her.

Taylor looked at him. 'Do you really have to ask?

'Don?'

Flack and Taylor turned to find Mac standing there.

'Hey,' Flack greeted him, shortly.

Taylor glanced around – Mac was blocking her exit (although her curiosity was telling her not to leave) so she hopped off the desk and moved to the vacant desk opposite Flack's, sat down, and pretended to flick through a file on the table.

'You know why I'm here?' Mac asked Flack.

Without acknowledging the question, Flack got down off the table, turned, and opened his desk draw, pulling his little black memo book. He pressed it too his mouth and sat down. 'You care about the consequences?' he asked Mac, glancing up at him.

'I know this isn't easy for you,' Mac told him.

'I'm not talking about me, Mac. I'm talking about the hundreds of arrests this cop was involved in,' Flack explained. 'The thugs that are gonna be screaming for an appeal because his credibility is in question, and the ones that are going to go free, despite the fact they're guilty. And he did everything by the book. I'm talking about child molesters, rapists, murderers.'

'Kym Tenaka's shooter stepped over his body and collected shell casings,' Mac responded calmly, yet coldly. 'He stuck his fingers into the victim's shoulder wound to retrieve a bullet – all to save his own ass. He was there to sell drugs. Poison that destroys families.' Mac was becoming angrier now, all whilst maintain his calm. 'It creates addicts out of babies in the womb. That accounts for 23 percent of the murders in this city.' He glared down at Flack. 'Don't make me subpoena your memo book, Don.'

Flack glared stonily at his desk, and for a minute, Taylor thought he was going to actually make Mac do just that. And then he flung it on the corner of his desk.

Mac turned to leave, but stopped. 'The consequences I care about are the cops who never cross the line, who now have to face comments and criticism because one of their own forgot the oath we took. Whichever one of these guys who was found guilty,' he waved the memo book in the air. 'I hope he goes away for a very long time. Because he disrespected the badge that you and I wear.' He turned and stormed out of the room.

Flack continued to glare at the table, refusing to look at anyone.

Taylor bit her lip and walked around to him. 'Don?' she started gently, placing a hand hesitantly on his shoulder.

He shook it off instantly. 'Leave it, Taylor,' he snapped.

Taylor stared at him, but saying nothing, turned and left, refusing to look back.

-----------------------------------------------------

Taylor pushed her door open with her feet and pushed her way in, bags of groceries under her arms. She had headed to the supermarket and done some evening shopping as she knew she had nothing in her cupboards. She dumped them on the side and fished the mail she had collected out.

There were a few bills, a letter which was clearly from her brother, a large envelope and a medium sized envelope. She tore the largest open first, knowing what it was before she did: her realtor had posted a few property details over. She was pouring over them, wondering if there was any point anymore, when there was a noise at the door.

She glanced up at the clock and frowned wondering who could be calling at this time. She'd long given up on Flack, waiting a full hour after the end of his shift, before getting her groceries.

The sight before her, when she opened the door, caused a smile to cross her face. Looking exhausted, but happy at the same time, was Marty. Taylor let out a small squeal and leapt on him.

'Well, if this is the reaction I get when I see you, I should come visit more often,' Marty grinned into her hair.

'I am so glad to see you,' Taylor murmured.

Marty took a step back and stared at her. 'What's happened?'

'Nothing,' Taylor told him with an unconvincing shrug.

Marty frowned. 'Alright. Go get a bath.'

Taylor blinked. 'Is that your not-so subtle way of telling me I smell?'

'No, it's my subtle way of telling you, you look like a wreck, so get a bath, wrap up in your robes, and then you and me are going to sit down and you can tell me what's the matter.'

Taylor gave his a weary nod of the head and headed for her bathroom. She remerged a while later wrapped up in her fluffy robe, her hair in a scruffy bun, to have a glass of wine handed to her almost immediately.

'Spill,' Marty demanded, pulling her down onto the sofa next to him.

Taylor sighed and leant back against the couch back. 'I managed to argue with everyone today.'

Marty arched an eyebrow at her. 'Everyone?'

'Don and Lindsay,' Taylor admitted. 'But it feels like I've been arguing with everyone.'

'About what?' Marty prompted.

Taylor smiled up at him. 'Nothing. It's just me over analysing everything.' She got to her feet. 'I'm glad you're back, Marty.'

'Taylor, you didn't answer my question,' Marty told her, getting up and catching up with her before she could walk into her bedroom and grabbing her arm. 'Taylor?' he peered up at her. 'Are you… crying?'

'No,' Taylor muttered.

'In which case, you're eyes are leaking,' Marty told her dryly.

'I'm fine, Marty,' she snapped. 'I just need to get some sleep.'

Marty sighed and dropped her hand. 'I know I've not been around much recently, but you can talk to me, you know.'

'I know,' Taylor sighed. 'But I really just need to get some sleep.' She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and ducked into her room.

------------------------------------

Although asleep in different rooms, Marty and Taylor awoke at exactly the same time. Taylor was pulling on her robe and out of her bedroom, clutching at a shoe, which she swung at a shadow as she stepped into the kitchen.

Only the shadow grabbed a hold of her arm, stopping her. 'What good is a running shoe going to do against a burglar?' Marty hissed at her.

'I don't have anything else,' Taylor hissed back.

Marty rolled his eyes at her. 'Get back into the bedroom.'

'Not a chance,' Taylor scoffed. 'If you're going down, I want to know about it.'

'Thanks for the vote of confidence,' Marty scowled.

Another bang broke up their bickering.

Taylor rolled her eyes as she realised what it was. 'It's someone at the door.'

Marty frowned. 'Someone who sounds like they're trying to break the door down.'

Taylor padded over to the door and stared out of the peep hole. Within seconds, she was pulling the door open. 'Don?!'

Marty looked at the detective and sighed. 'I'll be in my room if you need me,' he informed Taylor as he headed back in the direction he had come.

Taylor stepped back and let him in silently, smelling the faint trace of alcohol on him as he walked past. She shut the door and turned. The next thing she knew, he was crushing his lips down on hers, kissing her, pushing her back into the door.

She pushed him away. 'Don? What are you doing?' she asked him, cupping his face.

'I love you, you know that?'

'What are you doing?' she repeated.

Flack shook his head. 'I don't want to talk about it yet.' He grabbed her hands and pulled them off his face, placing his lips back on hers.

As Flack's lips travelled down her neck, sending shivers down her spine, Taylor sighed and pushed him away.

'You don't want this?' he asked, before resuming with the kissing.

Taylor pushed him away again. 'Don, stop it!'

'What's the matter, babe?'

Taylor stormed past him. 'Do you know what, maybe you should go home and sleep off whatever it is you've been drinking.'

'I'm not drunk,' Flack told her.

'I didn't say you were,' said Taylor. 'I said you should go home.'

'Maybe I don't want to,' Flack retorted.

'Alright, then what happened today?'

'God, woman! Do you have any idea how damn infuriating you are? I didn't come here to talk.'

'Well, you sure know how to make a girl feel special,' Taylor snapped back at him. 'And you know where the door is.'

The pair glared hotly at each other. 'Why are you trying to get rid of me?' Flack demanded. 'Who have you got back there?'

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Okay, get out and come back when you've sobered up.'

'It's Marty, isn't it. I did see him, didn't I?' Flack didn't wait for an answer and stormed into the flat.

Taylor grabbed him. 'Stop being an idiot. Marty _lives _here. And I am not about to argue with you on that.' Flack opened his mouth to retort, but Taylor continued. 'Go home. If you want to talk to me, do it tomorrow.'

Flack glared at her, then turned and stormed out, slamming the door so hard behind him that it bounced back open.

Taylor shut it with a sigh. Being an understanding girlfriend was proving to be harder than she expected.

* * *

_Well, I finally get work to calm down, and then I have to contend with my phone company. They did something to the phone pole and in the process, pulled the cable out. Retards._

_I feel obliged to put in another shameless plug here... **Gotham's Heroes!** I'm pretty certain it's not that bad! (but I may be biased) lol._


	132. But I know something is coming I don't

_Thoren - Hey! I'm glad you're enjoying! I hope this was soon enough - I think I'm back on track for my twice weekly updating. (:D)_

_Alana Xavier1 - Phone companies suck! lol. I certainly will try to keep up to standard!_

_RK9 - tough to read? Am I being mean, or sucky? Or both? Thanks for the cookie!_

_sparkyCSI - I think I'm up to date now - many thanks for being amazing!_

_demolished-soul - I'm having him back and forth for a while. I have plans for him. I'm not sure if he's like that, or I've created him like that. He was never on TV for long enough!_

_Trizzy - Now, you had taste. When I was fourteen, I was in love with a boy band called 911. And I've now just admitted that to the world... (:s) Aw, I hope your cat comes back!_

_meadow567 - happy to oblige!_

_miss wizard of oz - I have taken caffiene pills, with many frozen coffee things. (I'm allergic to caffiene though - so I had to stop doing it 'cos it made me ill). It had me bouncing off the ceilings! They will be cuddly soon!_

_Kippiej - aw, thank you!! I'm so happy to hear that! I'm really glad you like my baby, and I will certainly try - you just have to tell me if I start to fail!!_

_Aphina - well, you had a lot to do with that, so thank you! I have too much fun writing this... even if my muses plague me for days on end!_

_Spoliers, ok, well, we have some for 3x03; Love Run Cold._

_And I love my beta - sparkyCSI! (:D)_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 131: But I know something is coming I don't know what it is**

Taylor awoke the following morning to the sound of someone hammering at her door. Wondering if Flack **was** back, she pulled on her robe and padded to the door, stepping out at the same time as Marty. 'I'll get it,' she told him, walking to the door someone was still pounding on. She pulled it open.

'Good morning, Taylor,' Sasha sang at her.

Taylor sleepily wiped her eyes. 'Not to be rude, but why are you here?'

'I'm making it up to you for plastering your face on the sides of buses,' she exclaimed, bounding past her and into the kitchen. 'What are you and your boyfriend doing tomorrow night?' she asked as Marty walked into the kitchen.

Marty stopped and looked at her. 'Me?'

'Hi! I'm Sasha. I work in the PR department at the _Daily_. I recognise you from that award ceremony months ago. You must be Detective Flack.'

Marty shook his head. 'Dr Pino. Marty,' he corrected her, shaking her hand.

'Oh,' Sasha shrugged. 'I can do three tickets.'

'Tickets for what?' Taylor asked suspiciously.

'Launch party for Buri Vodka. It's a black and white affair.'

Taylor wrinkled her nose up. 'I've never heard of Buri Vodka.

Sasha rolled her eyes. 'That's why it's called a _launch_ party.' Sasha looked back at Marty and then to Taylor. 'If he's not Flack, why are you both standing in your kitchen in your underwear?'

Taylor was still wearing a night gown under her open robe. 'He's my housemate, Sash. And speaking of underwear, I think it's time I got dressed,' she told her, ushering her out of the house.

'Tomorrow night. Eight o'clock,' Sasha yelled through the closed door.

Taylor turned to Marty. 'Party?'

Marty shrugged back at her. 'Why not?'

'So what do you have planned today?' she asked him, jumping up onto the side.

'Not much. See a few friends, take my car out and stretch her legs.'

'You know, you should drive your car to St. Louis,' Taylor mused. 'It seems a shame to keep her downstairs not being used when you're in another state for most of the time. Speaking of, why are you here? Not that I'm complaining.'

'I'm back for the 4th of July weekend,' Marty explained.

Taylor leapt at him, enveloping him in a big bear hug, which he returned. 'How long at you back for?'

'Until next Sunday. You have me around for a full ten days. Well, nine,' he quickly counted. Marty leant against the counter beside her. 'So what do you have planned for today?'

Taylor sighed. 'Well, we were supposed to be apartment hunting. But I don't know anymore.'

'You're leaving?'

Taylor froze, and swore loudly. 'I was going to tell you. Flack asked me to move in with him, well, we're getting a place together. Or at least I hope we still are.'

Marty nodded, sighing sadly. 'Well, I guess that shouldn't come as a surprise.'

'I'm sorry, Marty. I should have told you.'

Marty shrugged at her. 'When? I haven't seen you in weeks.'

'I guess,' Taylor relented. 'But I didn't want to tell you like this.'

'So make it up to me. You can buy the drinks all night tomorrow.'

'All night?' Taylor repeated.

Marty grinned. 'Yup. So when was the last time you went running?'

'Are you kidding? I haven't been running in ages. My running partner moved,' she told him, staring at him pointedly.

'Get your gear on,' Marty shrugged.

Taylor blinked. 'Just like that?'

'Unless you're too out of shape,' Marty taunted her.

Taylor arched her eyebrows. 'You are so on.'

A couple of hours later, the two had collapsed on the grass in the middle of Central Park.

'I think you've just killed me,' Taylor groaned, staring up at the clouds.

Marty rolled over and stared at her. 'You know, Hawkes goes running. Maybe you should go out with him.'

'I didn't know that,' Taylor shrugged. 'I'll ask him about it next time.'

'Yeah, he's looking for an apartment, too.'

'I didn't know that either,' Taylor glanced over at him. 'When did you become the oracle of all knowledge?'

'Called into the morgue yesterday, before I came back here. You go for few weeks and everything changes. Danny has a girlfriend, Peyton has a mystery man, Stella's seeing someone-'

Taylor's head shot up. 'No she's not.'

Marty smiled. 'Oh yes she is. Some cop in organized crime. Can't remember his name.'

'Ikaia?'

Marty nodded.

'You're wrong,' Taylor muttered in disbelief. 'They're just friends.'

'It got me too. I coulda sworn there was something going on between her and Mac.'

Taylor sank back into the grass. 'You know, I used to think that too. I don't know what happened there. Maybe I'll ask her about it.'

'And what's this I hear about twins? Because I'm certain I told you no kids whilst I was away.'

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'I'm not pregnant. Man, I am going to kill some people because of that.'

'Talking about death. Still getting visits?'

Taylor forced a smile. 'In the shape of aliens,' she told him dryly, before explaining the story.

Marty was still laughing when the got back to their apartment a while later.

'I'm glad someone finds that hilarious,' she muttered, heading to the bathroom.

The rest of the afternoon was spent relaxing around the apartment, catching up on what had been missed over the handful of months that had passed. They were discussing Marty's "relationships" in St. Louis, when Taylor's phone rang. She hung up minutes later.

'I take it that's not good news?' Marty asked her, noting her glum expression.

'I left a voicemail with Don, asking him if he wanted to come to this thing tonight. But he has to work,' she explained.

'Not that I want to cause trouble or anything, but things didn't sound too brilliant between the two of you last night. So why did you invite him to the party.'

Taylor shrugged. 'I had some crazy idea he would talk to me. Tell me what's going on.'

'I don't think inviting him to a party is the way to go about it.'

'I know,' Taylor sighed. 'I figured neutral ground, away from work. Maybe that's what we need. I don't know. I don't know what to do.'

'You need to let him get his head out of his ass and apologise.'

'Helpful, Marty,' Taylor muttered.

'What? He was being a jerk last night. And if he was like that when he got here, I can only imagine what he was like before that to have you moping when I got there.'

'Marty,' Taylor sighed. 'It's more complicated than that. I told him one of his team was somewhat bent.'

'How on earth did you come to that conclusion?'

'I didn't. Maddy told me.'

'Maddy?' Marty frowned. 'She could share that much information with you?'

'No,' Taylor slumped against the couch. 'She got pulled away, replaced by Eirik, and I haven't seen or heard from her since. But I told Don this, and he told me I couldn't decipher the clues. Which normally I can't, but this was different, and I tried to tell him this.'

Marty looked at her. 'Firstly, who's Eirik?'

'From Organised Crime. He got killed. I thought he'd moved on, but apparently, he's Maddy's replacement. Though nice as he is, I hope he's only temporary.'

'Okay, so the reason Flack has his head up his ass is because you came to him with the truth about something?'

Taylor sighed. 'He thinks I went to Mac.'

'Did you?'

Taylor glared at him. 'Of course not,' she told him indignantly.

Marty held his hands up. 'I had to ask. But you have just proved my point. You need to let Flack come to you. Or at the very least, let him cool off.'

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Gee, talking with you really helped matters.'

Marty shrugged. 'Maybe alcohol will help. That is, if you think you can trust yourself with me' he asked her with a grin.

She flung her cushion at him. 'I'm glad to see you haven't changed,' she muttered in disbelief. 'I'm going to preen.'

Marty glanced down at his watch. 'You only have a couple of hours. Are you sure that's going to be enough?'

He was rewarded with a smack upside the head for that comment as Taylor walked past him on the way to the bathroom.

---------------------------------

Taylor was just applying some perfume when there was a loud knock at her bedroom door. 'I knew you'd need longer than two hours,' Marty's voice drifted impatiently through the door.

Taylor rolled her eyes as she stepped back from the mirror to examine her appearance. She'd fallen in love with the dress months ago, bought it, and it had ended up in the back of her closet. She had a slight habit of buying beautiful (and frankly, over-priced) dresses and them finding their way to the back of the closet to never be worn. This was one of them. It was too smart to wear to an average party.

It was a black satin number. A sweetheart, strapless, backless number with beadwork at the neckline and hip. Its skirt was long and floor length, but because it wrapped around, left an open slit at the front and a slight trail at the back.

She stared at her hair, wondering if she should have left it down, rather than in the French knot she had opted for.

'Taylor!' Marty shouted through the door.

_Guess it's up_. She yanked the door open. 'What?' she stopped suddenly when she caught Marty's appearance. He was in a black suit with a black shirt, tie-less and his top button open. But he looked good. 'You don't scrub up badly.'

'I could say the same about you.'

-------------------------------

'Oh my God,' Taylor muttered as the pair eventually walked into the launch party. Someone had certainly pushed the boat out on this one. It was like they had walked into a bar made of ice. Taylor glanced up at the icicles hanging from the ceiling. They practically had.

She stopped suddenly. 'Marty, they have penguins,' she gushed excitedly. Maybe a party was for the best – nothing homicide related.

Marty surveyed the area. 'They have women in bikinis serving drinks,' he pointed out. One headed in their direction carrying a giant icicle filled with bright blue liquid.

'It's a promotional bottle,' the scantily clad waitress told them. 'It's ice tonight, but when they hit the stands, they'll be glass,' she informed them as she filled their glasses.

'Looks like I don't have to worry about buying you drinks all night,' Taylor grinned.

Marty rolled his eye. "Don't think you've gotten out of that one that easily."

A couple of hours later, and Taylor was ready to forgive Sasha completely for the publicity stunt. She and Marty were pleasantly drunk, and even though she wished Flack was there too, she was having a ball.

'Dance?' Marty asked her as a Justin Timberlake's _SexyBack_ came on.

Taylor nodded and allowed Marty to lead her to the dance floor where she found herself lost in the beat. Until a scream caused the music to come to a sudden halt.

Taylor froze. 'You've got to be kidding me,' she muttered under her breath as Marty sobered up instantly and led her to the source of the scream.

In the centre of the room was a raised stage – the main feature being raised from below. In this instance, the main feature was the promotional face of Buri Vodka… and in this case, she appeared to be dead.

Marty pulled her through the horrified crowds to the body, feeling for a pulse around the frantic boyfriend.

At the slight shake of his head, Taylor pulled her phone out and dialled.


	133. You're playin' with your life, this

_RK9 - Penguins are cute. And in my world, things are right again - I'm just chapters ahead on the writing front! (:P)_

_demolished-soul - I think they should bring Marty back too! And I may be one of the minority, but I wish they'd bring Peyton back too!_

_KiPpiEi - Glad to hear! I love the penguins too. Kinda wish you could have them as pets!! Lord knows my house is cold enough_

_sparkyCSI - Nope, not at all. He's gonna be in my story. I refuse to do what the writers did on NY, and ax him!_

_meadow567 - look, back to regular updates! I'm not keeping you too long!_

_Thoren - I hope I haven't made you wait too long! Glad you're still liking!_

_Um, spoilers still for Love Run Cold._

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 132: You're playin' with your life, this ain't no truth or dare**

Taylor was pacing back and forth when Flack and a few uniforms turned up a short while later. Whilst she had sobered up somewhat, she realized she was still drunk by the fact she wasn't as cold as she probably should have been – considering she was waiting around in a giant refrigerator.

Flack let out a sigh when he spotted Taylor and joined her side. 'I should have known when dispatch said party.'

Taylor shrugged. 'Could be worse.'

Flack nodded sympathetically and pulled out his memo book. 'I guess I should take your statement.'

Taylor nodded, wearily. Flack was still behaving awkwardly and there was also still a lot of tension in the air. 'I was dancing, they announced the face of the promotional campaign, and then there was a scream. We dashed over, Marty took her pulse, but she was already dead. So I dialled 911.'

Flack lowered his pen. 'And the unofficial?'

Taylor peered up at him. 'Unofficial?'

'You know,' Flack prompted. 'The cryptic clues from beyond?' he added dryly.

Taylor shook her head. 'No ghost.' _All things considered, that probably isn't a bad thing_, Taylor sighed inwardly.

The pair turned as Mac arrived on the scene and he came over to join them. Mac sighed despairingly when he spotted Taylor. 'Ghost?'

Taylor shook her head. 'I was just here for the vodka.'

Mac eyed her suspiciously, but nodded and walked over to the body.

'You know you're going to have to stick around, don't you?' Flack asked her.

Taylor nodded. 'You think there's a chance they'd let me refill my glass?'

Flack rolled his eyes at her. 'No.' He stared at her, as if wanting to say something, but instead ducked under the tape, heading for Mac. Taylor sighed and took a seat.

_----------------------------------------------_

A few hours later, Taylor was falling asleep in her chair. Marty had been back and left her with his jacket, and was now on the other side of the room, chatting to one of the bikini-clad waitresses.

'Taylor?'

Taylor shook herself out of her doze and stared at Danny. 'Hey Messer.'

'Flack's sent me over to finish questioning you.'

Taylor rubbed her eyes. 'He's not going to do it?'

Danny shook his head. ''Fraid not.'

'Figures,' Taylor muttered under his breath.

'Has he not been to talk to you?' Danny asked, slightly surprised.

Taylor shrugged. 'I got an initial round of questioning.'

'No, to apologise.'

Taylor peered up at him. 'What do you know?'

'Flack is being Flack. Stubborn. And I'm well aware he accused you of having something going on with Marty.'

Taylor glanced over at Flack, who was busy interviewing one of the scantily clad waitress, yet still had the same frown plastered on his face as he had when he'd arrived. 'Yeah,' she muttered.

'And I know you went to him first about Truby,' Danny informed her, grabbing a chair and pulling it over. 'I also know he was being a jerk, albeit a drunk one, and he shouldn't have acted that way.'

'Danny, why are you apologising for him? That's his job. And frankly, I'd rather he just talk to me, period.'

Danny nodded. 'Look, how about we get on with finishing these questions?'

'Why is it that statement makes it sound like I'm guilty?'

'Guilty conscience?' Danny queried her with a grin.

'I'm not the one who was late,' Taylor shrugged. 'What were you and Nixon up to this evening? Or on second thoughts, don't answ-'

'I was waiting for Lindsay to show.'

Taylor frowned. 'She was even later than you. What was she doing?'

Danny sighed and sat down next to her. 'For dinner. I was waiting for Lindsay to show up for dinner.'

'Huh?' In the confused state she was being dragged into, that was the most articulate response she could manage.

Danny shrugged. 'She asked to meet me, to talk, muttering something about you and a Keith Urban concert.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'She actually listened to me?!'

'I don't know,' Danny frowned. 'Because she never showed up.'

Taylor sat back. 'What about Nixon?' she asked thoughtfully.

'She knows I went to meet Lindsay. I'm not going to lie to her about it. But I'm not going to refuse Lindsay if she wants to talk. I still care about her – I'm not going to ignore her. You ready to finish the questions?'

Taylor nodded. 'Doubt I can be much help though.'

A few questions later, Taylor realised she probably wasn't that helpful. She yawned and glanced at her watch. 'Danny, it's after five. Can we go any time soon?'

Danny frowned and looked around, caught Don and Lindsay's eyes, and waved them over. 'We about done?'

Lindsay looked at Danny. 'Get anything?'

'Negative,' Danny told her, shaking his head.

'The bouncer said that nobody left the bar since Tanya was discovered.'

'That was her name?' Taylor asked.

'Tanya Nettles,' Flack told her.

Danny frowned and looked around. 'If nobody left the bar that means our witness list may be our suspect list.'

Taylor groaned. 'Are you kidding me?'

Danny gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. ''Fraid so. You might not want to leave the city any time soon.'

-----------------------------------------------

By the time Taylor returned home and got into bed, it was already pushing 8am. Despite being exhausted, she only managed a few hours sleep. She had fallen asleep fully clothed, and thus, once she was showered and changed, it was about lunch time.

She was eating her lunch when she discovered the smaller of the two envelopes still waiting for her to open it and read the contents. She ripped it open and allowed the contents to fall onto the counter. At first, when she spotted the visitation slip, she thought it was Chris, wanting her to visit again. But a closer inspection revealed that the visitee was actually Sonny Sassone.

Taylor scowled at the visitation slip and pushed it to one side, pulling the accompanying letter open.

_Ms. Turner,_

_I think it would be beneficial to us both if we were to meet. This is an open visitation for every Tuesday until you feel you are ready._

_Sonny Sassone._

Taylor read the letter once more, balled it up, and threw it in the trash. And then she pulled it out and smoothed it over, before folding it and putting it into her back pocket. There was only one thing to do.

She grabbed her car keys and headed to the precinct.

-----------------------------------------

She pulled up in time to find Flack cursing his head off at some "idiot driver" who had blocked him in. Taylor walked over to Danny who was watching him in amusement. 'Is he alright?'

Danny shrugged. 'I'm waiting for him to pull his ticket book out – and there it is,' he laughed.

Taylor watched as Flack wrote out a ticket, slammed it on the car's wind shield, and proceeded to pull out his cell. Within minutes, a uniformed officer was walking over, struggling slightly with the bright yellow clamp he was carrying.

With a satisfied smirk on his face, Flack walked over and joined them. 'That'll teach the idiot to block in a police car.'

'Where are you in a rush to get to?' Taylor asked him.

'After a suspect,' Flack explained, shortly.

'Want a ride?' Taylor offered, indicating to her car.

'You know, you probably shouldn't come,' Flack told her.

Taylor shrugged at him. 'Fine, you can grab a squad car. Or wait until your driver is back and has paid for you to remove his clamp.'

Flack begrudgingly nodded at Taylor. 'But you're standing back.'

'Gee, thanks,' Taylor muttered, as she got back into the car.

'You know, maybe I _should _get a squad car,' Flack mused, watching her as he sat in the front beside her.

'No, it's fine,' Taylor told him. 'You're right. I know you are. I don't even know why I'm bothered. It's not like there's a ghost. For once.'

'So how come you're here?' Danny asked her, leaning in between the two front seats.

'I came to see Louie, actually,' Taylor told him. Well, she had. 'Where are we headed?'

-------------------------------------------------

They arrived at their destination some time later. 'What now?' Taylor asked.

'Now we wait for Colin Flynn,' Flack explained.

Danny leant forward again. 'Looks like we don't have to wait long. That's our boy, Flack. The manager from the club,' he explained for Taylor's benefit.

'Alright, let's go,' Flack said to Danny. 'Taylor, stay here.'

Taylor watched Flack get out of the car, the atmosphere leaving with him. She was out of the car just as Flynn was confirming that was who he was.

'NYPD,' Danny told him, flashing his badge. 'We've got a couple of questions for you.'

Flynn stopped next to the back of Taylor's car. 'Do I have to answer?' he demanded, looking in Flack's direction.

Flack shrugged. 'Cop, not a lawyer, but yeah, you do.'

'What's that under your eye, Mr Flynn?' Danny asked. Taylor walked around to Flack's side. He gave her a look which said, _you should be in the car_, but didn't say anything.

'My cat scratched me,' Flynn told them, staring at Taylor. 'Who are you?'

Danny snapped his fingers in Flynn's face. 'You're talking to me. And, yeah, I got to tell you, I don't know what you think detective,' he glanced in Flack's direction, 'but you don't really look like a cat person to me.'

'You sure you didn't hurt yourself at work last night?' Flack asked him. 'Maybe playing peek-a-boo with some of the girls at the party?'

Flynn rolled his eyes. 'Ok, sure. I was checking out that girl. I wanted to see how she fit into that tiny little costume. She caught me. What can I say?'

'I think the scratch is the last thing you deserve,' Taylor muttered under her breath, earning her a reproachful glare of Flack, and a downright evil glare from Flynn.

'We're gonna need to get your fingerprints,' Danny informed him.

Flynn stepped forward. 'You charging me with something?'

Danny squared back up to him. 'You want us to?'

Flynn slammed his hand against Taylor's window on the back door, causing her to wince. 'That's harassment, man!' Flynn stormed angrily, looking to Flack for support.

Flack just shrugged at him.

Danny stepped back. 'You know, you're right. You're right.' He held his hands up. 'It's my fault and I'm sorry. I'm sorry, you can go. Go ahead.'

Taylor looked from Flack to Danny. 'What was that about?'

'That was good,' came Flack's response.

'What was?' Taylor questioned. 'And – Danny, what the hell are you doing to my car?!' Taylor shrieked at him as he pulled out a piece of sticky back plastic to take a handprint lift.

'You like that?' Danny asked Flack.

'If that damages my car, I'm sending you the bill!' Taylor told him.

'Relax, Drew. It's not going to do anything.'

Taylor pursed her hips and watched him with scrutiny.

'You got it?' Flack asked.

Danny nodded and held the print lift up. 'Yeah.'

-----------------------------

The car journey back to the precinct was spent in silence. Taylor was still sulking about Danny potentially damaging her car (although she kept denying that was the case.), Flack was still ignoring her, and for once, Danny couldn't seem to break the ice.

She dropped them off, parked up, noting that the car Flack had clamped was now gone, and headed into the morgue.

'Afternoon, Taylor,' Peyton chirped as Taylor walked in.

Taylor smiled back brightly. 'Hey Peyton. How's things?'

'Well, so long as I'm not lying on the table, I can't complain. How about with you?'

Taylor shrugged. 'What you said,' she told her, forcing a smile.

'So which ME are you here to see?'

'Actually, it's Louie I'm after,' Taylor told her.

'He's in the back,' Peyton informed her, pointing at the back door. 'Hey Taylor,' she called after her.

Taylor stopped and turned. 'Yeah?'

'You sure you're alright?'

Taylor gave her a reassuring smile. 'Don't worry about me. I'm fine.'

Taylor turned and headed into the back of the morgue. She stopped when she realised Louie was taking the particulars of a stab victim.

'Hey Drew,' he greeted her, spotting her hesitant form in the doorway. 'Are you here for Marty?'

Taylor frowned.

'He was here earlier. You've just missed him, actually.'

Taylor shook her head and headed over. Wordlessly, she pulled the letter out of her pocket and handed it over.

Louie took it with a frown, opened it, and read it. He looked at her with an angry expression. 'What's this?'


	134. I saw the end before it began

_miss wizard of oz - I feel the Tanglewood story was never properly closed. Mainly because we don't really find out if brother Messer made it or not. But I have both Messers... I'm having Tanglewood. And they will - don't worry!_

_Trizzy - Now that's an idea - ditching Flack and sticking her with Marty! Nah, a little bit of angst and things will be back to normal... for a person who sees ghosts. So, my claim to "fame". I was obsessed with 911 and was talking to my boss about it - he then gets them to come to uni. And then allows ME to drive them back to their hotel. And not only have I had 911 in my car, I got invited up to one of them's room! Which I declined. And they really are the shortest pop group in history! lol_

_UnspokenFaith - don't worry about the reviewing! I think I took a fair break in the updating anyway. But I should hopefully be back on track for a while again, so you shouldn't have to wait too long!_

_demolished-soul - You know, I think it was aired just over a year ago! Somehow, that's got me feeling old. Where on earth has a year gone? I think I may keep her around - I was never a smacked fan anyhoos!_

_Madison Bellows - Do you know how much I would give to be on a plane to LA now? I'm looking at prices for Mardis Gras and getting depressed because I know I can't afford it. (:c)_

_RK9 - no matter how tired I am, your reviews make me smile - thank you._

_Wolfson98 - I can appreciate that - don't worry! How is your fic coming, btw? Is it near ready for posting?_

_sparkyCSI - I feel in my tired state last night (and sorry for just disappearing) I may have divulged quite a lot! Hmmm. At least you're my beta and it's ok for you to know that!_

_meadow567 - I realise this going to be very obvious once you explain it, but Joey?_

_References to 3x14; The Lying Game, believe it or not! Blink and you miss it! But mucho thanks to my wonderful beta who I hardly ever talk to anymore because I'm never around!!

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_

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 133: I saw the end before it began**

'It came through the post the other morning,' Taylor sighed.

'You should throw it out,' Louie told her.

Taylor nodded. 'That was the first thing that I did.'

'Then why didn't it stay in the trash?'

Taylor shrugged. 'Because something is telling me I should go see what he wants.'

'Taylor, Sassone is dangerous. Nothing good can possibly come from you seeing him.'

'But he doesn't know me. He's never met me. What could he possibly want?'

'Taylor, no matter what you think he could possibly want, it's not going to end well. He's in prison. It's not like you're obligated to see him. Just walk away. I wish I had, and look at me now,' he shook his leg in her direction. 'I'm wearing a tracking device and that's only because of Mac.'

Taylor stared at him, chewing on her nail.

'You're actually considering going, aren't you?' Louie asked her in disbelief.

Taylor sighed and looked away. 'I know I shouldn't, but there's a reason I'm a journalist. I'm curious.'

'Yeah, and look what curiosity did to the cat,' Louie growled. 'You don't seem to get it. Sassone will fry you up and eat you for breakfast.'

'You assume I'm going to accept whatever it is he has to say,' Taylor said in her defence. 'How do you know he isn't going to confess to something?'

Louie stared at her. 'Sassone will never confess to anything, unless he knows you're not going to be around to do anything about it.'

'He's in prison, Louie. He can't do that much.'

'Taylor,' Louie began impatiently, 'he didn't become as powerful as he is because he can't do much. He has his fingers in too many pots – too many people owe him too many favours.' He sighed. 'Please, Taylor. Please don't go.'

Taylor bit her lip. 'I don't know if I can promise that, Louie.'

Louie shook his head. 'Then don't come crying to me when it all goes wrong. I can't afford to get pulled back into that world again. I might not get out of it.'

Taylor nodded, took the letter back off him, thrust it in her pocket and left.

She was lost in thought as she wandered down a corridor that she didn't realise that Danny and Lindsay were chatting in front of her until she practically walked into Lindsay's back. Eyes, widening, she stepped backwards – thankful that both were wrapped up in the conversation to realise she was ear-wigging.

'I have to know what's going on with you,' Danny was saying. 'Look, I mean, you and I, we still have this thing, right? This chemistry?' He looked expectantly at Lindsay who was shuffling on the spot. 'I know I'm seeing Nixon, but today, every time we're in the same room together today, it's like… don't tell me you don't feel it also.'

Lindsay looked up from the spot she had been staring at on the floor. 'I can't do this, Danny.'

'You can't do what?' he asked her, his blue eyes searching her brown ones.

'I can't be in a relationship with you.'

'Linds, I get that. I got it when you broke up with me. But you called me, wanting to meet for dinner, which you then went and stood me up over. I still care, and I still want spend some time together. Dinner, a few drinks. Some laughs. It doesn't have to be anything more than that. But something is bugging you, Lindsay, and I hope you know by now that you can talk to me about it.'

Lindsay sighed. Even from where Taylor was hiding, she could see she was upset. 'Look, Danny, I like you. A lot. But right now, I can't. It's not you, okay. It's… I just need to be by myself so I can work some stuff out that I thought I put behind me. I didn't mean for this to happen.'

Taylor took a breath and realised that maybe she shouldn't actually be listening in on this conversation. Quietly, she backed away and headed back the way she had come.

---------------------------------------

Monday and Tuesday both passed in something of a haze. Taylor spent much of Monday staring at her laptop screen – she couldn't even get excited when Danny informed her they had caught the Ice Queen's killer. She probably should have told Flack about the letter, but she was holding out on the fact that she wasn't going to go to Rikers.

So why was she sitting outside the prison, staring up at the wall that had become even more faded in the heat wave that had set in?

Taylor glanced for what had to be the millionth time, at the visiting order in her hands, before exiting the car. Several minutes later, after being checked and searched, she was seated in front a glass window, waiting for someone to come. She didn't have to wait long before Sonny Sassone sat down in front of her, instantly picking up the telephone. When she didn't pick hers up straight away, he waved his around until she did.

'Hello, Miss Turner.'

'Sassone.'

'You're looking well,' he started pleasantly.

'Sonny, I'm pretty sure you didn't request me to visit to comment on my appearance,' she told him dryly, cutting him off. 'I have better things to do.'

'Actually, I don't think you do, and you know this. That's why you're here.'

'What do you want?'

'I want to get out of here.'

Taylor snorted. '**As** if that's going to happen in the immediate future.'

'Ah, but with your help, it can.'

'What? You want me to write an article about how you were wrongly imprisoned?' she asked sarcastically. 'Dream on.'

'Don't worry, Miss Turner. I have other things planned. But you _are_ going to help me.'

'I'm not going to help you with anything, Sonny.'

Sony smiled. 'I will be here at the same time every week until you change your mind, Miss Turner. And you _will_ change your mind.'

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The image of Sonny's knowing smile was still imprinted in Taylor's mind later that evening as she sat at her laptop, staring at the blank screen. When a hand touched her shoulder, she jumped out of her chair with a scream, her hand colliding with an arm, sending liquid everywhere.

'Taylor!' Marty yelled as the glass of wine he had been holding when splashing all over him.

'Marty!' Taylor yelled back, trying to calm herself down.

'Are you alright?' he asked her, more concerned about her than his now sodden state.

'Yeah,' she muttered, running her hand through her hair. 'I'm just a little jumpy, I guess.'

'A little?

Taylor sighed. 'Alright, so maybe more than a little.'

'You want to talk about it?' Marty asked as he perched on the end of her bed.

Taylor laughed. 'Not while you're dripping all over my duvet.'

'Are you avoiding the issue?' Marty asked her, eyeing her sharply.

Taylor nodded. 'Of course I am. I'm fine. I just haven't been sleeping very well recently. And I had a meeting earlier which is bugging me.'

Marty stared at her, and then wrinkled up his nose. 'Alright,' he told her, pulling the still wet football jersey he was wearing over his head. 'I'm getting a dry shirt, and then you're spilling.'

Taylor arched an eyebrow. 'I thought I already had,' she nodded at the jersey which was screwed up in his hand.

'Still a smart Alec, aren't ya?' he mock frowned at her, before walking out of her room. He returned minutes later wearing a fresh jersey and a new glass of wine in his hand, which he promptly handed over.

'Thanks,' Taylor muttered, talking a sip.

'You know,' Marty mused. 'You should be out at some 4th July celebration, a dog in one hand and a beer in the other.'

'I think the same could be said to you,' Taylor chuckled. 'And I'm not a beer drinker, as you well know.'

Marty wafted his hands. 'Meh. Technicalities. So what's wrong?"

Taylor let out a long, deep breath. 'Nothing. I'm fine.'

Marty pursed his lips. 'Outta curiosity, do you open up to Flack?'

'What are you talking about?' Taylor demanded.

'You know what? Never mind,' Marty sighed. 'But seriously, stop keeping things to yourself. Because you're going to end up going grey prematurely. And you're going to shut people out completely.'

Taylor watched him leave with a frown. There were some things that people shouldn't know. Besides, what exactly could Sassone do from prison?

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It was midnight when Taylor looked up from her laptop next. She needed a folder with some figures in it, and the last time she had seen it was when she had handed it to Flack who had put it in his locker before they had dashed out to a crime scene.

Taylor sighed, glancing at the clock. He would still be at work. Sighing again, she rose to her feet and grabbed her jacket.

Figuring she wanted some air, she walked, rather than drove, and arrived at the precinct fifteen minutes later. Flack was the only person in there, other than Cruz and Angell. Taylor took a deep breath and shuffled over to Flack's desk.

He looked up from the paperwork he was busy writing up. 'Taylor?'

'I need that folder I left in your locker.'

Flack nodded and pulled out his locker key, barely looking at her as she took them off him. She bit her lip, wanting to talk to him, but with Cruz glaring over, she changed her mind and headed for the locker room.

The locker room was darker than normal – one of the bulbs was out – but Taylor didn't care. Frankly the lighting was matching her mood. She headed over to the locker and pulled it open. Catching her eye, taped to the door, was a picture of her and Don from when they'd been to Vegas, or rather, the Grand Canyon.

She was smiling at it as she stuck her hand into the locker. And then something sank its teeth into her.

Taylor screamed, snatching her hand out as a rather large, bad tempered rat leapt out of the locker. Taylor screamed again, trying to jump backwards out of its way, only to trip over the bench in the middle of the room, catching her head on the corner of a locker.

* * *

_I realised something yesterday when I was in work. I'm tired. All the time. And there's a reason behind it: I don't actually get a day off in a week. And four out of the seven days I end up working over 12 hours. So, I know I don't update half as often as I would like, but that would be the reason behind it. That's not a feel sympathetic for me thing - I just want y'all to know why my updates aren't regular and consistent like I would like them to be. I'm sorry guys. You have no idea how much I am looking forward to Christmas when the University is closed and I only have one full time job. Oh, and classes are cancelled too! Yes. That would be nice. _

_However, if you do feel that was something of a sympathy vote, I have no problems with you reviewing and brightening my day by telling me how amazing I am. Or alternatively how much I suck, you can do that too! And now I am going to sleep - only six hours until the next job!_


	135. I'm sure that you're an angel in

_And because I'm feeling quilty, here's an extra chapter for you! Look two in one night hopes no one notices the fact she has been lax in updating!_

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That The Eyes Can't See 

**Chapter 134: I'm sure that you're an angel in disguise**

Taylor sat up, clutching the back of her head with one hand, wafting the hand with the bite around in the air, and cursing loudly to the empty room. Until she saw the rat again, at which point she pulled off her shoe and launched it at it (although missing it) and continued to curse loudly.

The door to the room burst open, causing Taylor to jump and whack her head again.

'Taylor? What are you doing on the floor?' Flack asked in confusion, looking at the sprawled out woman.

'Avoiding the rat!' she squeaked at him.

Flack let out a long, drawn breath and held out his hand. 'I'm sorry about that.'

Taylor took his hand, wincing as gravity combined with her head. 'Why? Did you put it there?'

Flack sighed and sank to the bench. 'No, one of the guys did.'

'Why?' Taylor asked as she perched down beside him, ignoring the fact that both her head and hand were throbbing.

Flack gave her a pointed look. 'Rat. Think about it.'

Taylor frowned. 'Truby?'

Flack nodded. 'It's their way of calling me a snitch.'

'Well I guess I deserved it - it was my fault,' she sniped at him.

Flack looked over at her. 'You didn't go to Mac.'

'No,' Taylor frowned. 'So you've worked that out then?'

Flack looked down at his hands. 'Yeah. I'm sorry I exploded at you.'

'Don, you did a little more than explode at me,' Taylor murmured.

'I know. And I'm sorry.'

'Look,' Taylor sighed. 'I'm not mad at you shouting at me. To be fair, I probably could have told you a little better.'

'No,' said Flack, cutting her off. 'You couldn't. You knew something was wrong, you came straight to me, and you didn't tell me here. I just… I thought you were wrong, that Mac was wrong. I've worked alongside Truby for years. He's not a bad cop – always has your back. He's put so many bad guys away, and now they're all going to walk,' he finished angrily.

Taylor frowned, looking up at him. His eyes were a dark blue – stormy – as they stared down at her brown ones. 'Who are you more mad at?' she asked him hesitantly.

Flack snorted. 'Mac. Truby. Me. The system. The dealers.'

'You know it's not your fault, don't you?' she asked him, staring earnestly at him.

Flack stared back, but nodded. 'Doesn't mean I'm not pissed.'

Taylor nodded. 'I know. But Mac was only trying to do what's right.'

Flack stared at her in disbelief.

'He was. It may annoy everyone and cause some pain in the process, but he's looking out for everyone's best intentions.' Taylor laughed dryly. 'And this is coming from me. Seriously though, Don. Mac's one of the good guys. Like you. What would you have done if the roles were reversed?'

'I guess I would have done the same,' he relented. 'Though I may have waited until Mac wasn't in the office.' He sighed. 'I'm sorry.'

Taylor sighed and looked down at her feet. 'And what about that whole nonsense about Marty,' she asked him in a quiet voice.

'The guy has a thing for you.'

'Please,' Taylor scoffed.

Flack leant forward, cupping her face. 'I don't blame him,' he told her solemnly. 'But he does have a thing for you.'

'I think you're reading far too much into our friendship. But in any case, I don't have a thing for him. If you hadn't forgotten, I was moving out of our flat to move in with you.'

'You still want to?' Flack asked her hopefully.

'Are you kidding? Of course I still want to,' Taylor told him in disbelief. 'I'm not put off by one stupid argument.'

'What did I do to deserve you?' he asked her, leaning over and kissing her.

Taylor shrugged. 'I keep asking myself the same question.'

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back to him. 'Come here.' There was a pause. 'Out of curiosity, is Mac still looking out for everyone's best interests when he throws you out of the lab again?'

Taylor slapped his arm. 'That's not funny. But no. Then he's being mean and awkward. And don't you dare quote me on that when I'm moaning about him.'

'One rule for you, eh?'

'Yup,' Taylor told him, snuggling down into his arms.

'When was the last time you had your tetanus?' Flack asked, grabbing Taylor's hand and examining the bite wound.

'It's fine,' Taylor told him, trying to snatching the hand away.

'You were bitten by a rat,' Flack told her.

'Yeah, not scratched by a rusty nail,' Taylor objected.

'Taylor, rats are vermin. The carry disease. They killed half of Europe.'

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Firstly, it's a common misconception that rats are unclean. Like pigs, they are actually very clean animals. Secondly, the rats didn't carry the plague, the fleas which lived on them did.'

'You do realize you contradicted yourself twice there, don't you?' Flack smirked. 'And I don't care if the rat has a daily bubble bath you're getting a shot of some description.'

Taylor glared at him. 'I'm beginning to think I liked you better when you were ignoring me,' she muttered as she took the hand he was offering and allowed him to lead her out of the locker room. 'Do we really have to deal with the ER?'

Flack looked sideways at her. 'How hard did you hit your head? There are two ME's next door. I'm pretty certain that they're capable of sticking a needle in your arm.'

Taylor nodded, but said nothing, keeping quiet until they were just outside the door to the morgue. 'Don, how many rodents have found their way into your locker?'

Flack pursed his lips. 'That was the first living one.'

Taylor's eyes widened as she came to an abrupt halt. 'The first _living_ one? It's barely been a week since Truby was arrested.'

Flack turned, shrugging slightly. 'I know,' was all he managed.

'You should tell someone. Your captain. Hell, even Mac.'

Flack took a deep breath, staring past her. 'I think that would defeat the point – probably encourage slightly more rats in my things.'

'Don, you can't let them bully you like this?' she told him, wincing at herself as she became an octave higher in pitch.

'Don't worry about it, Tay. Things will die down soon enough. I've just got to endure it a bit longer.'

Taylor scowled. 'That's a defeatist attitude to take.'

'I don't have the energy to be battling with them as well as everything else.'

Taylor stared up at him. 'Everything else?' she asked, when he refused to meet her eyes.

'It's nothing,' he sighed.

'If it's nothing, tell me,' she urged him.

Flack sighed. 'My dad paid a visit,' he told her shortly.

'Oh,' Taylor mouthed at him. 'I take it he heard.'

'Yeah. My dad is still in the loop, despite the fact he's retired.'

'I'm sorry,' Taylor murmured, wrapping her arms around him.

'Why are you apologizing?' Flack asked her, squeezing his arms tightly around her.

'Because something tells me your actions regarding Truby weren't the only things that were discussed.'

'Taylor, how about we concentrate on sorting your head out – which I am sure is pounding from hitting that locker?' Flack asked her.

'Don, my headache is going to be cured by a couple of pain killers. Yours on the other hand – not so much.'

'Cute,' Flack muttered. 'But we're getting that hand of yours sorted.'

Taylor pushed herself away from him. 'It's just a finger,' she told him, waving it in front of him. 'Look it's even stopped bleeding.'

'That's probably the rabies,' Flack told her, matter-of-factly.

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'I guess I haven't told you this enough, but you're a doofas. And you've not escaped this discussion,' she informed him as he all but pushed her through the morgue doors.

'Don? Taylor?' Peyton's voice greeted them warmly as they walked in. 'What can I do for you?'

'Hey Peyton. I need you take a look at Taylor's hand,' Flack told her.

Peyton frowned, pulling off the rubber gloves she was wearing and threw them in a trash can. 'What have you done to yourself?'

'Firstly, _I_ haven't done anything,' Taylor objected. 'And secondly, it's not my hand, it's my finger.'

'Well there's a pretty sizeable chunk missing from it,' Peyton muttered, peering over at it.

'She was bitten by a rat,' Flack told her.

Peyton peered up, eyebrows arched, but said nothing. 'Sid!' she yelled instead. 'Sorry,' she apologized. 'Only I'm midway through an autopsy. It would be unhygienic of me to patch you up without getting changed. Sid!'

'Yes, Peyton,' Sid appeared in the office doorway. 'Hello Ms. Turner, Detective Flack,' he greeted the pair as soon as he spotted them. 'What can I do for you?'

'Taylor needs patching up,' Peyton told him as she pulled on another pair of gloves and returned to the dead body she had been cutting up.

Sid pulled on a pair of gloves and patted one of the empty tables. Taylor stared incredulously at him. 'You do not expect me to get on that do you?'

Sid shrugged. 'It's clean.'

'It has had who knows how many dead people on it,' Taylor protested.

'Nonsense,' Sid muttered, nodding at Flack, who picked Taylor up and sat her on the table before she could object.

'Let's have a look,' Sid murmured, grabbing her hand and putting his glasses on. 'What bit you?' he asked after he had cleaned the wound.

'A rat,' Flack told him.

Sid looked up, and unclipped his glasses. 'When were your last shots?'

Taylor rolled her eyes and winced at the pain the action caused her. 'I'd rather painkillers, if you don't mind.'

'I think we'd better give you a booster, just to be on the safe side,' Sid informed her, walking to a cupboard and returning with a syringe. 'You know,' said Sid, the needle hovering over her arm, 'it won't hurt as much if you relaxed.'

Taylor glared at him. 'Relax? You're about to jab a six inch needle in my arm.'

Flack laughed. 'It's barely an inch. I didn't know you were scared of needles.'

Taylor turned her glare towards him. 'I'm not scared of needles. I'm just not a big fan of the pain they cause when they – OW!' she yelled, as Sid stuck the needle into her arm.

'All done,' he told her cheerfully.

'Now I know why you cut dead things up,' she sulked, rubbing her arm.

'Sulking is such an attractive quality on you,' Flack told her.

'Yeah,' Taylor scowled at him. 'Just like sarcasm is a great quality on you.'

'Maybe we should get you home,' Flack laughed.

'Thanks Sid,' Taylor muttered, jumping off the table. Flack was right – her head was pounding.


	136. Even if you cannot hear my voice

_CharmedMummy - The stupid thing was that I didn't even think about that, and it's kind of obvious! There will be wining and dining - I have something quite nice planned. Although there may be a slight delay in that! The rat thing was something I came up with - it seemed better in my head._

_miss wizard of oz - I'm going to try my hardest to be regular. I have big things planned with Tanglewood. Including me being very, very evil!_

_RK9 - lol, you have that penguin! Just make sure you look after him! And I your review did get through, though I'm surprised this site was blocked! That's strange. Maybe you're on it too much! lol_

_Wolfsong98 - I sat this afternoon and planned this fic out properly. I can just about see an end in sight! It's kind of a relief in some ways. But I'm a ways off it._

_demolished-soul - admittedly the idea did seem better in my head than on paper, but I'm gonna run with it. It kinda has a point. I think (:s)_

_sparkyCSI - there will be more chapters prob when I get back from work. And look - I finally caught up. I thought there was more missing! But I'm' up to date! I did send you the ENTIRE plot! Well, there are gaps, but I would safely say that I have enough to get me up to 200 chapters. Which is a truely terrifying thought. But I do finally see an end! Woot!!_

_Horatiofan101 - I will keep going, and keep updating because I am addicted to reviews like a junkie is addicted to a number of illicit substances! lol. The fact that I make others smile is enough encouragement!_

_Trizzy - It's very, very tempting to have a week off. I'm thinking some time near xmas, because that's when Uni is closed, and there's now way some of those nights can be had off! I love Sid. I love CSI: NY. Except maybe Mac. And I still haven't worked out why or when that happened!_

_Um, spoilers for, oh what's it called... Silent Night, 3x12! And thanks to my wonderful beta, as always!_

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 135: Even if you cannot hear my voice I'll be right beside you dear**

_She was running. She wasn't sure what from, but she definitely knew she was trying to escape from something. But all that was around her was an enveloping darkness; an eternal darkness. Taylor glanced around, desperately trying to see a way out, a glimmer of hope – a glimmer of light. Yet there was nothing, except the knowledge she wasn't going to get out alive._

Taylor sat up with a start, breathing heavily in her room which was illuminated only by the soft glow of her alarm clock, the time on which was reading just after three. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, trying to draw some comfort as she realized it had been a dream, probably brought on by the fact she had hit her head (which was still thumping dully), only, as her breathing returned to normal, she realized she wasn't alone.

A girl who looked old enough to still be in college was standing in her bedroom, watching her, her pajamas glistening with blood. Next to her, Maddy was standing silently, accompanied by Eirik.

'Maddy!' Taylor cried happily, ignoring the dead girl. 'You're back.'

Maddy nodded.

Taylor frowned at her. 'Why are you acting so… weird?'

Maddy bit her lip and looked over at Eirik.

'She's kinda on probation,' Eirik informed her. 'She has to behave herself and follow the rules.'

Maddy nodded solemnly.

'Does that mean you can't talk to me?' Taylor asked her.

'I can,' she told her quietly. 'But I've got to be careful what I say.'

Taylor frowned. 'And is "hi" against the rules?'

Maddy sighed. 'Hi, Taylor.'

Taylor opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when she realized the girl was waving her hands around. 'Huh?' she muttered. And then she realized there was a pattern to the girl's hand movements. 'Are you signing?'

The girl nodded and began moving her hands around.

'I don't understand sign language,' Taylor told the three helplessly.

Maddy looked at Eirik, who shook his head.

'What?' Taylor demanded.

'We do,' Maddy told her carefully, still watching Eirik. 'But we can't translate.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'You do?'

Maddy looked hopelessly at Eirik.

'We can understand sign language and we can speak various languages too.'

Taylor frowned. 'How many languages?'

Eirik shrugged. 'All of them.'

This time, Taylor's eyes bulging out of her head accompanied the fish imitation. 'Since when?'

'Perk of being dead,' Maddy shrugged before quickly clamping her mouth shoot and looking at Eirik.

'It's not just the English speaking that die,' Eirik shrugged.

'It's also not the talkers that die either,' Taylor spluttered. 'Care to translate?'

Maddy bit her lip. 'We can't.'

Taylor narrowed her eyes. 'And how to the Powers That Be expect me to help with this one? Seriously?'

'You'll find a way?' Maddy offered.

The girl waved her fingers around once more before the three of them disappeared.

'You'll find a way?' Taylor muttered, flopping back into her pillow. 'How long do I have to learn sign language?'

--------------------------------------------

Taylor walked into the crime lab, her head still throbbing slightly, and headed straight for the break room where she poured herself a glass of water and threw a couple of painkillers down her throat. She turned around and dropped the glass – thankful it was empty as it shattered, hitting the floor – at the sight of the three ghosts staring at her.

'For crying out loud!' she yelped. 'I get you're deaf, and I get that you're not allowed to say anything,' she said, indicating to the relevant ghosts. 'But please, let me know you're there. You don't even have to anything more than clear your throat.'

Maddy just shrugged at her.

'Fine,' Taylor muttered, watching the ghost with the bullet wound flap her arms around. 'Was there even any point?' she shouted to the empty room after the ghosts had disappeared.

'Who are you shouting at?' Stella asked, walking into the room to find Taylor carefully picking up the pieces of glass.

'Ghost with the latest in frustrating clues.'

'And what would be this ghost's latest form?' Stella asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

'Oh, no, she's still looking like she did when she died,' Taylor frowned. 'The problem is she's… she was deaf. And I can't understand sign language.'

'You want to talk to Mac,' Stella told her.

Taylor arched an eyebrow. 'Mac can understand sign language?' she asked in surprise.

Stella shook her head. 'No, he's the lead on a home invasion. The vic was a nineteen year old deaf girl.'

'Oh,' Taylor sighed. 'Mac?'

Stella nodded. 'But Sheldon is working with him,' she offered. 'In fact, I need to speak to Sheldon. Care to join me?'

'Sure,' Taylor agreed, following Stella out of the room.

The two had barely started down the corridor when Stella turned. 'Taylor, will you excuse me a minute?'

Taylor nodded as Stella took off after someone walking down the corridor. 'Lindsay, hold up.' She called. The figure stopped and turned. 'You can talk to me off the record.'

Lindsay looked miserable. 'What do you want me to say?'

Stella frowned. 'You left the crime scene, Lindsay. I covered for you, but I-'

'Yeah, thanks,' said Lindsay, shortly, cutting her off.

'Look, if you have a problem, you should tell someone. I'm just trying to help.'

Lindsay stared stubbornly. 'Well don't. Okay? Just leave me alone.'

Stella's expression hardened. 'Clearly I made the mistake of trying to be your friend her, so I'll be your boss. When you're requested at a crime scene, you show up and you do your job. Speaking of your job, I expect to see you in autopsy this afternoon.' She finished curtly and turned, walking back to Taylor.

'Okay, I realize this is none of my business, but what's the matter with Lindsay?' Taylor asked, watching Lindsay disappear around a corridor.

Stella shrugged. 'Your guess is as good as mine.'

Taylor took a breath. 'You know, I think I'll go find Mac.'

Stella looked questioningly at her.

'I think I should have a chat with Lindsay – see what's wrong. And I can't really do that if there's going to be a ghost popping up every five minutes, so if I find Mac, maybe we can wrap this up quickly.'

'I'm not sure if your logic is right, but ok,' Stella shrugged at her. 'Oh, Taylor?'

'Yeah?'

Stella pointed at Taylor's bandaged up finger. 'What did you do to yourself this time?'

Taylor bit her lip. 'Um, it, uh… it got bitten.'

'Didn't your parents teach you not to pet strange animals?'

Taylor forced a smile. 'I think they might have mentioned that, yeah. I should go find Mac.'

'Taylor, are you alright?' asked Stella, slightly concerned.

'It's the middle of the night, I have a throbbing head, and a mute ghost. Things are,' Taylor shrugged. 'Things are just like normal.'

Stella nodded, although it was clear she didn't quite buy it. 'I think Mac might be in the morgue.'

--------------------------------------------

Taylor could hear Mac's voice drifting out of the morgue before she got there.

'Maybe she knew the shooter, felt she could get close enough to stop what was going on.'

Taylor took a deep breath and was about to open the door fully and walk in, when Mac's next sentence made her stop.

'Peyton I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what happened. I want to talk, maybe over lunch or coffee.'

'Mac, I have a lot of work to do.' Peyton informed him. Taylor poked open the door and peered in. Mac's back was to her, but Peyton was clearly upset about something – although the tone of her voice had given that away. 'Would you like me to send these up to ballistics for you?'

'I'll take them,' said Mac, taking something off Peyton and turning.

Taylor quickly jumped back and ducked behind the door. Mac walked out and stopped. Taylor held her breath. If he turned, he would spot her and it would be obvious that she had been eavesdropping. Thankfully, he just sighed deeply and carried on walking.

When she felt he was a sufficient distance away, Taylor exhaled and walked quietly into the lab, catching Peyton wiping her eyes.

'Taylor?' she sniffed quickly, regaining her composure.

'Peyton, are you alright?' Taylor asked her.

'I'm fine. It's just the, uh, chemicals,' Peyton quickly told her.

'It's alright,' Taylor reassured her. 'Mac's made me cry before. Well, nearly, anyway.' She stopped seeing the look on Peyton's face. 'No, I mean, not like that. I've never… me and Mac… there's never ever been anything between us, I mean, ew.' She froze again. 'Not that there's anything wrong with seeing Mac. He's just not my type. Oh, um.' She frowned. 'I mean, if you want to date him, then that's your choice. I, um,' she faltered. 'Crap.' She threw her hands in the air. 'What the hell. I know about you and Mac.'

Peyton's mouth dropped open. 'How do you know?'

Taylor smiled uncomfortably. 'Um, I… I can't reveal my sources?' she finished lamely.

Peyton sighed. 'It's alright. I don't think there's anything to hide anymore anyway.'

'What happened?'

He pulled away.'

Taylor stared quizzically at her.

Peyton gave her a watery smile. 'He pulled away when he saw Stella.'

'I'm sorry, Peyton,' Taylor told her giving her a hug. 'Want me to beat him up for you?'

Peyton managed a small laugh. 'You're alright. I'll be fine. So what brought you to the morgue anyway?'

'I was after Mac,' Taylor explained. 'I should probably go find him.' She turned to leave but was stopped by Peyton's next question.

'Not that I'm bothered by you talking to Mac, but I have to ask: what's so important that you need to see him at five in the morning?'

'Um,' Taylor glanced over her shoulder. I can't actually answer that question.'

'Taylor, are you alright?'

Taylor nodded. 'Yeah, I am. But I'm going to leave now, before you change your mind on that fact.' Taylor dashed out. Tempting as it was, she wasn't about to share her secret with anyone else.

* * *

_Short, I know - but two jobs, remember!_

_Well, I'm coming up to Lindsay's dark and secret past(!) I will of course be doing this my way! I had this bit planned long before it aired! So just to warn you, it's not going to match what you see on the TV!_


	137. In a moment new voices could be heard

_KiPpiEj - Lol - all jokes are forgiven!. I'm trying everything in my power to like Mac at the moment. Me and him fell out a while back. But I've never been a Smacked fan:s_

_demolished-soul - I know it's been done to death. To be honest, when I wrote it, I never expected it to have taken this long to be used. Hopefully I'll keep it original though!_

_Trizzy - I have three days off this week! I can't believe it! Admittedly, I have so much housework to catch up on! I don't like Mac, but I like Gary Sinise too - it was Ransom that did it for me - he was soooo evil in it, it was brilliant._

_RK9 - You know, I was looking back, it actually didn't. I think I was sleep derprived and imagined it! I think in the next chapter in particular, maybe the one after, there's a fair bit of Tay/Flack interaction! Hi Seymour!!_

_sparkyCSI - I actually did fall asleep with the laptop on my lap last night! Ha ha! I have to go get caught up again! I shall explain all as soon as I remember why I wouldn't let them translate in the first place._

_TBD - There is relief to hear that! I'm glad you're still reading. I'm trying to get as much writing done as possible, and it kills me not to, so I'll be writing away for a while yet!_

_miss wizard of oz - Um, well, Danny won't get hurt as such, but he won't be a happy chappy. You're doing better than me! I learnt it at Brownies. I can spell my name and say good morning/night. In other words, I suck at it! lol_

_meadow567 - I didn't. But I got it through in the middle of the last chapter's reviews - after this one. I'm now responding via the fanfic page, rather than my emails! I'm sorry about that! I now know who you're on about - with Joey. I swear my brain has melted._

_There are still spoilers for Silent Night. And all mistakes are my own, because I never sent this chapter to my beta! Sorry!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 136: In a moment new voices could be heard**

She found Mac in the interview room talking to a woman, another officer at his side. Judging from the fact the other officer was signing at the woman, Taylor had figured that the woman was the ghost's mother, long before it was brought up in conversation. And as she watched the interpreter's hands move, she came up with a plan.

As the interview finished, she slipped out and cornered the interpreter as Mac continued to talk with Gina Mitchells, the ghost's mother.

'Hi!' Taylor greeted him chirpily as she bounded to a stop in front of him.

The officer blinked, slightly stunned at her bouncy demeanor. 'Hi?'

'Hi,' Taylor repeated. 'I'm Taylor-'

'I know who you are,' the officer responded. 'Your face goes past me several times a day. The bus,' he added at her puzzled expression.

'Yeah,' Taylor sighed. 'Nothing to do with me. But anyway,' she paused, staring expectantly up at him.

'Marty. Marty Santucci.'

'Anyway, Marty, I have a question for you.'

Officer Santucci frowned. 'Okay?'

Taylor bit her lip as she worked out in her head how was best to ask this. 'So, I've been set a task. I was shown something, in sign language, and I have no idea what it means.'

'Oh,' said Officer Santucci, looking somewhat relieved. 'Well, show me what they signed and I'll translate.'

'Um, okay.' With a frown, Taylor began to repeat what the ghost had shown her.

And Officer Santucci looked even more confused.

'So, what did that say?'

'Be my waterfall. Help you to eat lettuce. Draw my baby,' Officer Santucci told her.

'Well that makes no sense,' Taylor muttered. 'Not that that surprises me with ghosts anymore, but seriously?'

'Excuse me?'

Taylor looked up at Officer Santucci, who had caught some of her mutterings. 'I, um, I have to… go.' She gave him a bright smile. 'Thanks, Marty! Maybe I'll see you around!' She dashed off before she could be questioned further.

'Eat lettuce?' Taylor muttered to herself. 'I'm pretty certain the hole in her stomach was from a gunshot, not where some lettuce had stabbed her. Or maybe she was killed by some evil rabbit of doo-' she trailed off when she noticed she was being watched.

It was Gina Mitchell. And she was staring intently at her. Taylor gave her a smile.

'You're talking about my daughter?' Gina asked her.

Taylor looked around, trying to see something as an excuse to leave. 'No,' Taylor began, but stopped abruptly when Gina grabbed her chin.

'You are a bad liar too.'

Slowly, Taylor nodded.

'Do you know her?' Gina asked.

'That's an interesting question. I suppose you could say that, of sorts. I mean, we've met,' Taylor began rambling at lightning speed.

Gina placed her hand over Taylor's mouth. 'Please talk slower.'

Taylor took a deep breath. 'We've met.'

'You seem too old to be one of her friends. And I've never heard Alison mention you.'

Taylor took a step back. 'Look, I can't tell you. And I don't mean to be rude – I just don't want you to think I'm being blasé about your daughter.'

Gina stared at her for the longest time, before nodding. 'Alright. But I hope you will be able to tell me.'

-------------------------------------

Taylor stood in the store, staring at the item in front of her. She had spent a large part of the day hovering around Mac and Hawkes, trying to see how lettuce and waterfalls related to Alison and a baby, and hadn't found anything.

By the late afternoon, whilst Mac had taken Gina back to her house to test fire some guns, an idea had sprung into Taylor's head. Clearly, she hadn't worked out what Alison had been signing, and she also wasn't about to go back to Santucci to try to repeat it again.

So there she was standing in front of a certain item in a toy store. Shaking her head, wondering if it was going to work, Taylor picked it up and paid for it, heading back to the crime lab – just in case something resembling a lettuce leaf got brought in.

Sitting crossed leg in the middle of the break room floor, Taylor pulled of the packaging and placed the Ouija board in front of her.

'Alison?' she called softly.

Alison, accompanied by Maddy and Eirik appeared in front of her. 'Tay, what's that?' Maddy asked her.

'Considering you're dead, I'd have thought that would be pretty obvious.'

'We can't use that,' Eirik pointed out.

'No, but Alison can,' Taylor replied.

'But-'

'Now, before you say anything,' Taylor cut Eirik off. 'I think I have this worked out. When you first die, you don't really accept it – that's why you're still here,' she shook her head, 'well, you two are a whole different ball game, but the ghosts who come to visit me – they don't know they're dead. So they still cling to all those pesky emotions us living folk have, and as such, they have the energy to move things.'

Taylor glanced up at Eirik. 'Okay,' he drew out.

Taylor smiled. Whilst he wasn't agreeing to that, he certainly wasn't denying it. 'I think that's why some ghosts can launch things at me – they're the angry ones. But I figure, whilst Alison isn't angry, and probably can't do all that much, she still got to be able to move something. Even just a little.'

'So why the Ouija board?'

Taylor took a breath. 'I know you can't tell me anything, but she can. Even if it's just what she's signing at me. So, I think it's time to see if these things can actually do what they're supposed to, and maybe I'll get something slightly more understandable than lettuce.' Taylor frowned. 'Ok, thinking about it, I've had aliens, but I'm willing to try.'

She looked expectantly up at Eirik who… nodded.

Taylor beamed and offered the floor to Alison. The two of them placed their hands on the marker and slowly it began to traverse the board. Ignoring how cold her hands had gone, Taylor watched, spelling out the words in her mind, until she eventually got, 'be my voice. Help me find my killer. Protect my baby?' she asked Alison.

Alison nodded.

Taylor beamed at her. 'Well that makes more sense!' She froze as she noticed the expression on Alison's face. 'Oh how I wish that _didn't_ make sense.'

She got to her feet and tore out of the break room, charging full pelt down the corridor until she collided with someone.

'Watch where you're going!' Lindsay snapped at her.

Taylor brushed herself off. 'I'm sorry, Lindsay.'

'You're not supposed to be running in the lab,' Lindsay fumed.

Taylor blinked. 'I'm _sorry_,' she repeated. 'Linds, are you alright?'

Lindsay narrowed her eyes. 'Don't.'

Taylor took a breath. 'Okay, I'd love to stick around and have you snap at me all evening, but who am I kidding, I don't. If you want to actually tell me what the hell is the matter with you, then do so. Later.' Taylor stepped around her, continuing in the direction she had come until she found Flack. 'It's about the baby,' she told him.

Flack nodded, indicating she should follow. 'I know,' he told her stepping into Mac's office. 'Okay, here's the deal,' Flack explained to Mac. 'Cole Rowan didn't go to the Mitchell house to kill Alison, he went there to kidnap Elizabeth.'

Mac looked at them. 'How do you know?'

'We hit Cole's apartment – he wasn't there. But we found a lot of new baby stuff – a crib, diapers, formula. Cole was getting ready to play daddy.'

Mac nodded and pulled out his cell phone. 'Gina's not answering at her hotel.'

'Much as I'd like to suggest it's probably because she can't hear it, I think something's wrong,' Taylor told them, staring past Flack to where Alison was signing at her.

Which was when Mac's phone rang. 'It's Gina,' he explained as he put his cell onto speakerphone.

'I want Elizabeth. My daughter comes with me. Now drive.'

'Who's that?' Taylor asked.

'I would hazard a guess that's Cole,' Mac told her. 'Flack, call Sheldon. Give him Gina's number and try to triangulate a location on her cell signal – get us a location. Cole Rowan has Gina and the baby.'

Flack nodded and pulled out his phone.

-----------------------------

Barely five minutes later, the three of them were in Flack's truck, siren's blazing, as they tore down the streets.

'Repeat, we've got a hostage situation,' Flack barked into his radio, shooting glances in the mirror at Taylor who was sitting wide eyed as she listened. 'Notify highway and a hostage negotiator. Standby for further instructions.'

Taylor bit her lip, staring at the phone Mac was holding. She had followed them out to the car and originally had been told she wasn't coming. But when she had informed them she would follow them in her car anyway, Mac had told her to get in the back, shut up and stay there. So there she was.

'I'll let you go, but you have to promise me something. You have to tell the police that I didn't mean to kill Alison. It was an accident. We were fighting. I'm sorry. It didn't have to come to this.' Cole's voice came through.

As Flack's phone rang, Taylor turned to Mac. 'Are we going to … he wouldn't kill his child, would he?' she asked him hesitantly.

Mac turned. 'I hope not.'

Flack hung up. 'Just got a 911 from Dennis Mitchell – Gina's husband,' he added for Taylor's benefit. 'He reported the abduction. I've sent two uniforms to pick him up.' Flack's phone rang again. 'Flack… yeah… great, where?' he hung up. 'We got him. Just got off the FDR northbound.'

Taylor sat back as Flack pressed his foot down, staring at the passing scenery which was turning into one big blur. She wasn't sure she wanted to be there, but staying at the lab would have been even harder. She glanced up, focusing on the grim frown that had set in on Flack's forehead, his eyes sparkling in determination.

He glanced up and caught her staring. 'You alright?' he asked her.

Taylor nodded, giving him a bright smile. It quickly dropped from her face when he returned his eyes to the road – he needed to be focusing on finding Cole, not her.

Finally, the SUV squealed to a stop and the two detectives leapt out. 'Alright, listen up!' Mac called as officers surrounded them. 'Our shooters got two hostages. The mother and a little girl. I want you guys to hang tight until we're in control.'

The window of Gina's car went down and something came sailing out, skidding across the road.

'What's that?' Taylor asked.

'It's an external transmitter. Cole can't hear without it,' Mac explained.

Flack stared at the item. 'Come with me. I've got an idea.'

Taylor took a step. 'Where?'

Flack stopped. 'Not you.'

Taylor stopped as an officer walked around her.

'Stop!' Cole's voice called from the car, causing Taylor to switch her attention to Mac who was slowly making her way to the car. 'Give me transmitter.'

Mac stopped. 'First, you give me the baby.'

'I'll shoot her as well.'

Taylor didn't realize she was holding her breath until Alison appeared with Maddy and Eirik and she let out a small yelp of surprise. 'I don't understand you,' she told the ghost who was signing urgently at her. 'And I didn't bring the Ouija board with me,' she told Maddy and Eirik. 'So, if you want me to do anything, you had better get translating pretty sharpish.'

Maddy glanced at Eirik, who sighed heavily. 'Alison wants you to relay a message to Cole.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'I don't understand what she's saying!' she exclaimed.

'You don't have to. You just have to copy her.'

'How do I know she's not going to tell me to tell him to shoot me?!'

'Taylor!' Maddy exclaimed impatiently.

* * *

_Just so y'all know in advance, I'm working, pretty much, all day and night Wednesday, so the next update should hopefully be Thursday!_


	138. My mouth is filled with blood from

_Madison Bellows - Well, congratulations! It's taken me since August to read yours and I'm only half way through. Life can get very annoying at times!_

_Aoife - lol, three hours? I'm impressed! Thank you so much! And I'm glad you like Taylor. Season 3 was brilliant - I think the show just keeps getting better and better_

_sparkyCSI - I must confess, I'm behind on my writing now. Crazy idea came to me to start another story. But I am remaining adamant that that isn't being posted until this is finished. Which may take a while! I will be online for a while tonight - sickness and sleepiness permitting (although I must have slept all afternoon so I can't see how I could possibly sleep more!)_

_demolished-soul - I never really played with a ouiji board. Sat outside a graveyard once with a friend with a hand made one when we were little... but chickened out. I have no idea if they really even make them anymore!_

_Trizzy - Season 4 has completely revived my love for Lindsay, but the comment she made in the last episode regarding... squirrels - i don't want to give away anything if you've not watched it - did make me cringe. Ransom is a great film. I was seriously creeped out by Gary Sinese, which I suppose is a testement to how good an actor he is_

_meadow567 - lol, I suck, don't I! I'll try not to keep it so long before my next update! Though it's more likely to be Monday, rather than Sunday with the updating!_

_Alana Xavier1 - There are a few episodes that really get me. This was one of them! And I'm not feeling so guilty with the _Slight of Hand_ references I'm going to use soon!_

_RK9 - lol, bye Seymour! Well, I have some Tay/Flack in this chapter. Mainly because they're not going to be together for a few chapters after this!_

_miss wizard of oz - are you calming Danny. or distracting him? lol. Well, he need not worry about me killing him off, that's for sure!_

_Let's see, still spoilers for Silent Night. And for once I haven't altered this chapter since it was beta'd by my wonderful beta, sparkyCSI!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 137: My mouth is filled with blood from trying not to speak**

Taylor glanced over at the car then back to Alison. 'Aiden!' she hissed.

Aiden appeared instantly. 'What's up?'

'As if you don't know,' Taylor hissed. 'If I'm going out there, you're coming with me.'

Aiden shrugged and nodded.

'Thank you,' Taylor muttered, as she stalked over to where Mac was, regretting it instantly as the gun turned at her.

'Taylor what are you doing?' Mac snapped at her.

Taylor gave him a nervous smile and turned her attention to Alison who began moving her hands around so fast it was making Taylor dizzy.

'I don't sign,' Taylor muttered at her from the corner of her mouth. 'Go slower.'

Alison nodded and slowed down the signing so that Taylor could copy.

'I don't believe you!' Cole cried from the car.

Taylor looked at Alison, who in turn, relayed some movements for her to mimic.

'I only wanted what's best for our daughter.'

Taylor quickly copied Alison.

'You were pretending to be her sister. You blocked me from her life.'

Taylor frowned, wondering exactly what it was that Alison was trying to accomplish.

'I didn't want Elizabeth to grow up deaf. To have to live in a world of silence. Like you did. How could you be so stupid? Elizabeth!'

Taylor glanced up to see Flack sweeping the baby up in his arms and dashing off with her as an officer aimed his gun through the window at Cole.

As Cole dropped the gun and was pulled out of the car, Taylor made her way back to the truck, suddenly feeling lightheaded. She opened the door and settled in so that her feet were hanging out but her head was resting against the head rest.

'What was that about?' Flack hissed as he joined her, still holding the now sleeping baby.

'Alison,' Taylor sighed. 'She suits you,' she told him, nodding her head in the direction of Elizabeth.

'Stop changing the subject,' Flack told her.

'Shhhh!' Taylor responded. 'You'll wake her.'

Flack glared at her, trying to work out the best response. In the end, he gave a frustrated grunt and passed Elizabeth over. 'Here. I have to get back to work.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open as Flack pretty much dumped the baby in her arms. 'Hey!'

Flack looked at her. 'Shhhh! You'll wake her,' he informed her with a sly grin.

Taylor glanced down at the sleeping baby, feeling really awkward.

'She won't break, you know.'

Taylor looked up and found Gina staring at her. 'I'm not willing to take that risk.'

Gina smiled and took Elizabeth back. 'You see her, don't you?'

Taylor stared at her, wondering if there was any way she wasn't talking about Alison. 'Yeah,' she sighed, when she realized there wasn't.

Gina looked surprised. 'Really?'

Taylor slowly nodded her head. 'She needed my help.'

'Thank you,' she smiled as her husband came running over.

'You're welcome, Taylor muttered, sinking wearily into the seat.

-------------------------------

Marty was out when Taylor was dropped off – Flack still had to do paperwork and interview Cole, though he promised her they would do something the following evening.

She was in the kitchen, saying goodbye to Alison when someone knocked on the door. She wandered over to the door and glanced through the peephole. Seeing a hesitant Lindsay, she pulled the door open. 'Lindsay?'

'I need to… I was hoping… can we talk?'

Taylor nodded, stepping back to let Lindsay in. 'What's the matter, Lindsay?' she asked patiently.

Lindsay looked down at the floor. 'I don't have very many friends in this city, and the few that I do have, I've been doing my damnedest to push away. But, um, I kinda need a friend right now. Someone who doesn't work at the lab – and that pretty much leaves you.'

'Is something wrong?' Taylor asked her, growing worried.

Lindsay nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. Unable to answer, she pulled a worn piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it over.

Taylor opened it up and read. She looked up. 'It's a summons back to Montana.'

Lindsay nodded.

'It says you're the key witness in a murder investigation.'

'I'm the only witness,' Lindsay managed before her voice broke and she began sobbing.

Taylor looked in horror in the woman crying in front of her and did the only thing she could think of – she wrapped her arms around her.

Finally, Lindsay pulled away and sniffed, feeling very embarrassed. 'I'm sorry.'

'Oh no, you don't apologize,' Taylor informed her.

'I guess I owe you an explanation,' Lindsay sighed.

Taylor shook her head. 'The letter was kind of explanation enough. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want.'

Lindsay gave her a watery smile. 'Thanks, but I think it's time I finally told someone.'

Taylor nodded. 'I tell you what, you get comfortable on the couch. I'll pour us some wine.'

'You got anything stronger?'

Taylor frowned. 'Marty has beer, but I think Flack may still have some Jack Daniels here?' she offered.

'Jack,' Lindsay told her. 'Straight.'

Taylor arched her eyebrows, but said nothing. In the back of her cupboard was some Jack Daniels, as she suspected. She poured a glass for Lindsay, and was about to put the bottle back, but changed her mind. After pouring herself a glass of water, she went into the living room and handed the amber liquid over to Lindsay who took a very large mouthful.

'I have two sis… I had two sisters,' Lindsay began. 'We were triplets, actually. Emma was the oldest, then me, then Katy. Katy was the odd one out of us three. She loved riding and horses and was working on the ranch from the age of eight. Well, we all were, but she was the one that did it willingly. Emma and I both were the more studious. Emma wanted to be a math teacher, and whilst I wasn't sure, I knew I wanted to do something with science.'

'When I turned eighteen I married my high school sweetheart, Ryan. The only people there were Emma and Katy, and Katy's boyfriend and Ryan's best friend, Ben. We got married in the little church on campus.'

Taylor's eyes widened. 'You never told me you were married.'

Lindsay gave her a pained smile and took another mouthful of drink. 'Three weeks before our nineteenth birthday we had arranged to go home for the weekend. We were at Montana State, so it wasn't far to go home. Katy wanted to go home and check on her latest foal – she was at college doing equine studies. But we all wanted to go home and check on our mom. She'd had cancer but the doctors had just told her it had gone into remission.'

'I was running late in the science lab. I had a project due in the following Thursday and I wanted to take my results home so I could write it up. So Ryan, Emma and Katy were there waiting in the lab for me along with our friends Phil and Megan. Ben never went to college. He was at home working on his father's ranch.'

'I was doing physics and my experiment involved measuring stopping distances. Basically, the battery ran out so I headed to the store cupboard down the corridor to find a spare. And then I heard the bangs. I've grown up around guns. I know what they sound like. But I froze. I just stood there, clutching the battery. I should have… '

Taylor's mouth dropped open in horror as she struggled to find the words. 'Lindsay… God, I-'

Lindsay shook her head and continued, cutting her off. 'I finally found my feet after the fifth bang and I opened the door just as this man walked past, carrying a gun. He looked right at me. I thought I was going to be next so I shut my eyes. But the only noise I heard was his footsteps walking calmly away. So I ran into the lab. There was blood everywhere. Emma was the closest…'

'I heard a small splutter. It was Katy. I… I… she wasn't breathing when I got to her so I did CPR. I don't know how long I was doing it for but the police arrived with ambulances. They'd had an anonymous call. I don't remember much else until the hospital and my parents arrived. I must have looked like someone who had survived a horror movie,' Lindsay let out a dry laugh. 'I supposed I had.'

'Did anyone…?' Taylor trailed off, unable to ask if anyone had actually managed to live.

Lindsay nodded. 'Katy survived. But she wasn't the same again. She lost so much… she's… it's like she's still eighteen.'

'I'm sorry,' Taylor muttered.

Lindsay took a deep breath, her voice growing shakier. 'Mom's cancer came back soon after the funerals. Two months later we buried her.'

Taylor took one look at Lindsay's tear stained face and scooted over to Lindsay's side, wrapping her arms back around her. 'I dropped out of college that year. Re-enrolled the following year to do chemistry. I knew then that I wanted to find the guy who had done this. There was no explanation or no evidence to say who he was. They wanted me to go into witness protection but I had already changed my name twice. I couldn't do it again. I stuck in Montana as long as I could, but as soon as the offer came up to work in New York, I told my dad I was going.'

'How did they catch him?' Taylor asked out of curiosity.

Lindsay took a deep breath. 'There was a blood sample at the… there – they couldn't match it to anyone until recently when someone with matching alleles popped up in the system.'

'A brother?'

'Daughter,' Lindsay sighed. 'She's a juvie in the system for a B&E. They raided his house – found some journal he had written years ago, detailing how he did it. They found it a couple of months ago.'

Taylor sat back and did the math. 'A couple of months? You mean, when you and Danny…?'

Lindsay nodded.

'That explains so much.'

'I,' Lindsay sighed. 'I was wondering. Would you come back with me?'

Taylor blinked. 'Huh?'

'Back to Montana. For the case. I don't think I can face this alone.'

'Wouldn't Danny be better suited for this?'

Lindsay shook her head. 'I don't want Danny to know. I can't face him yet.'

'You should feel ashamed of something that's not your fault,' Taylor told her.

'I know,' Lindsay muttered. 'But I don't want to bring Nixon into this.'

'If you want me to go, I will,' Taylor promised her. 'The only thing is, I'm not brilliant at flying. So I may not be as conscious as you'd like on the flight out there.'

Lindsay nodded. 'I've heard, and that's fine. Thank you, Taylor. And I'm really sorry.'

'You don't have to apologize,' Taylor told her. 'This wasn't your fault.'

'No, I'm sorry I've been a complete moody bitch recently.'

Taylor smiled. 'Well, yeah, you have, but all is forgiven.'

Lindsay smiled back and got to her feet. 'I should go.'

'You can stay if you want,' Taylor offered. 'I can take the couch.'

'Don't be silly,' Lindsay told her. 'Besides, I need to pack anyway.'

'Pack?' Taylor repeated. 'Pack for what?'

'Going home,' Lindsay explained. 'There's a flight tomorrow morning.'

Taylor blinked. 'Tomorrow morning? As in… _tomorrow_?'

Lindsay nodded. 'Yeah, I thought you'd have read in that letter that the first day of the trial is the day after tomorrow. Is that a problem?' Lindsay asked in alarm.

Taylor smiled and shook her head. 'Not at all.'

'Thank you so much,' Lindsay gave her a hug. 'I owe you big time. Anyway, I'll call you tomorrow with the details.'

Taylor watched her go in shock. _Tomorrow? She was flying tomorrow?!_

--------------------------------------

Flack pulled up outside his apartment block, startled to find Taylor pacing back and forth. He leapt out and dashed over. 'Taylor? Are you alright?'

'I was wondering if you'd mind taking a rain check on tomorrow,' she asked him.

Flack frowned. 'You're outside my apartment at some stupid time in the morning to break a date with me?'

Taylor nodded. 'Yeah, I'm kind of going to Montana. Tomorrow morning.'

'And you couldn't have called me to tell me this?'

'I could, but I wanted to see you in person. And besides, I figured you'd maybe stay up all night with me?' she asked him hopefully.

Flack glanced down at her. 'Are you sure it's just the flight that's bothering you?'

Taylor blinked. 'Yeah. Don, this is me – planes and me just don't go together. And I figured that if I stay up all night, some sleeping tablets might knock me out before I can fasten my seatbelt.'

Flack nodded, pushing the door open. 'Out of curiosity, why are you going to Montana?'

Taylor frowned. 'Well, I was told I couldn't let this get back to Danny, so I guess it would be alright if I told you – so don't tell anyone.'

'I won't,' Flack promised.

'Lindsay's got to go back and testify in some case, and she wants me to go.'

Flack nodded. 'Alright.'

Finally the lift reached Flack's floor and the pair stepped out and walked to Flack's apartment.

'Have you eaten?' Flack asked suddenly. 'Because I haven't, and I'm starving.'

Taylor shrugged, taking a seat at Flack's breakfast bar. 'I could eat. What do you have in mind?'

'French Toast,' Flack informed her as he began rooting through his cupboards, pulling out the various ingredients and equipment needed. A short while later, he was sitting at the breakfast bar with Taylor and the two were eating the toast.

'Any more rats in your locker?' Taylor asked him, casting him a sideways stare.

Flack dunked his toast in the ketchup (Taylor refused to ask about that one). 'No,' he answered shortly.

'Have you told anyone about that?'

Flack put his fork down.' What do you expect anyone to do? It'll pass in a few weeks. Until then, I can handle it.'

Taylor sighed. 'You shouldn't have to. And I was thinking… about your parents.'

Flack just stared at her.

'Maybe we should invite them around for dinner, when I get back from Montana.'

'You want to murder my parents?' Flack cried incredulously.

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'What? No!'

Flack laughed. 'I was messing with you.'

Taylor pouted. 'It's not funny, you know. So I suck at cooking? I can't be the only person in the world who-'

Flack held his hand over her mouth, cutting her off. 'Taylor, relax. But I'm not sure that inviting my parents around for dinner is such a good idea.'

Taylor sat back in her chair, running her hand through her hair. 'I figured, maybe if they got to know me, maybe I could change their mind.'

'It's not that,' Flack informed her, grabbing her hand which was fidgeting with her hair. 'Dad's pissed about the Truby thing.'

'You know,' Taylor mused as the two of them attacked the washing. 'Maybe I could invite some of your co-workers around for a meal. It's not murder if you _accidentally_ killed them with your cooking, is it?'

Flack laughed. 'I think that's called death by _poison_.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open in mock horror. 'You're comparing my cooking to poisoning?' she asked, flinging a handful of soap suds at him. And then she cracked up laughing at the sight of the bubbles dripping of Flack's nose.

Flack arched an eyebrow at her. 'Was that a declaration of war?'

Taylor quickly threw her hands in the air. 'No, and if it was, I surrender. Because you have the height advantage, and let's face it you'd win.'

Flack smirked. 'Right answer.'

----------------------------------------

Taylor shifted, yawning. They had just finished watching a film and she could feel herself nodding off as she rested on Flack, her head rising almost therapeutically with the rise and fall of his chest.

'You're still awake then?' he murmured.

'Yeah,' Taylor nodded, sitting upright and switching a lamp on. She blinked in the sudden light, and as her eyes became adjusted, they fell on a guitar standing in the corner of the room. 'Do you even play that?' she asked him.

'Play what?' Flack asked her sitting up. 'Oh, that,' he muttered as he realized what she was talking about. 'A little.'

Taylor smiled at him. She was almost certain he was turning slightly pink. 'Will you play something for me?'

This time, Flack definitely flushed, his face turning an interesting shade of crimson. 'Not now.'

Taylor bit back a laugh – his embarrassment was cute. 'Why not?'

'Because I'm not that good,' he told her so quietly, she barely heard him.

'Please?'

Flack sighed. 'Even if I wanted to, I couldn't.'

'Why not?'

'I hurt my fingers,' he told her, waving his hand as quickly as he could.

Taylor grabbed the hand, which he instantly tried to pull back from her. She kept her grip and pulled so that he too moved towards her, and moved it so that she could see it in the light. Across the base of his four fingers was a thin, straight welt, which actually looked quite painful.

'What the hell did you do to yourself, rescuing Elizabeth?' Taylor cried.

Flack finally snatched his hand back. 'It's nothing.'

Taylor stared scrutinizing him. 'The fact that you're saying it's nothing, means it is. And you didn't do that saving a baby.'

Flack looked away. 'I accidentally got it caught in giant mouse trap.'

'A giant _mouse trap_?' Taylor repeated in confusion. And then the penny dropped. 'You mean a giant rat trap, don't you?' Without waiting for an answer, she was on her feet, storming towards the door.

Flack was on his feet after her. 'Taylor!' he cried, grabbing her arm. 'Where are you going?'

'To tell your captain that unless he wants to lose half of his detectives, that he needs to sort this out,' Taylor fumed.

Flack stared at her and smiled, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her. 'Taylor, it's not that bad. We're not actually to the point of murder.'

'I am.' Her voice came out all muffled from where it was buried in his shirt.

Flack looked down and frowned. 'Tay? Are you… crying?'

'No,' came Taylor's muffled response.

'Really?' Flack asked, stepping back to look at her.

Taylor stared defiantly back at him. 'No, I'm not crying. I was cursing under my breath in several languages.'

'Why?'

'Why? _Why?_' Taylor repeated in disbelief. 'Because I'm mad, Don. No, wait. I'm not mad, I'm fuming!'

Flack took a break. 'Why?' He couldn't work out if Taylor was about to explode or cry, now.

'Because earlier, all I could think about was you playing hero, when you could have gotten your head blown off. And I know we had that agreement – that's fine. I'm always going to worry. But it's bad enough that I have to worry about you when you're trying to catch the bad guys – what am I supposed to do when the good guys _are_ the bad guys?' Taylor ranted at him.

Flack winced. 'Tay, I know you're upset, but could you keep your voice down?'

'Don't get patronizing with me, Don,' Taylor snapped at him.

'I'm not! It's just it's nearly-' There was a knock at the door. Flack sighed. 'It's nearly four in the morning and I have neighbors.'

Flack hurried over to the door and pulled it open.

'Flack!' his neighbor barked at him. 'It's-'

'I'm sorry,' Flack quickly apologized, cutting him off.

As soon as he had reassured his neighbor that he would keep the noise down, he hurried back to Taylor and ushered her into the kitchen.

'I'm sorry,' Taylor muttered, walking over to the sink. She gripped at the side, keeping her arms straight, and stared out at the black windows of the apartment building opposite. 'I don't want to constantly fight with you. It's just that these people are your colleagues – your friends – and they're being… _jerks_!' she told him. 'It's pathetic and childish.'

Flack walked up behind her, slipping his hands around her waist and pulling her to him, resting his cheek against the side of her head. 'I know. They're just pissed. At least they're not taking shots at me.'

'That's not funny,' Taylor responded.

'Look, I'm sure that by the time you get back from Montana, it will all have died down.'

'And what if it hasn't?' Taylor asked, meeting his eyes in their reflection.

'Then I will go talk to my chief,' Flack promised. 'Are you sure you don't want to try to get a couple of hours sleep?' he asked, changing the subject.

Taylor shook her head. 'I want to pass out on that plane from exhaustion – not anything else.'

'And you keep calling me a doofas,' Flack muttered into her hair.

* * *

_Sorry this never went up yesterday. I have a feeling all the work I've been doing caught up on me as I've spent the past two days ill in bed. I even had to leave work yesterday - and this is coming from the girl who will "dj" with a migraine! Ah well. I shall be better soon - I refuse to remain ill. It's inconvenient!_


	139. I woke up with a heartbeat in my head

_Aphina - I can assure you you're doing better than me! I can barely find time to write, let alone read. But at least we managed a brain storm, though I'm going to bed shortly so you may have to confer with Kris!_

_Trizzy - Bribe your roommate! That's what I did, and then slowly I managed to get her addicted!! I'm uptodate with all but this week's episode which wont d/l! _

_CharmedMummy - It's half and half. There were parts of the episode I liked, but I'm not sure which I want to encorporate. I have plans for ghosts from Montana, but they're not going to make an appearence for a while - it all comes back to why I'm using my idea with Lindsay. Yeah, that was cryptic!_

_demolished-soul - I keep changing my plans with Danny, so I wouldn't want to commit! I don't plan on hanging around in Montana for more than a few chapters either._

_miss wizard of oz - you know those weird people who will go to work when they're ill - that's me. How far are you with season 3 now? Is Danny behaving?_

_RK9 - So if I get shot for stopping, what's the punishment for a little hiatus? I have rabbits to cuddle. Well, one will cuddle, the other will kamakaze out of your hands, but still._

_sparkyCSI - I eat French toast with ketchup all the time, and I know I'm not pregnant!! Just strange! Who know's when the next chapter will be - I keep jumping ahead when I have time to write. Hmmm! What do you make of the brainstorming?_

_meadow567 - I will explain it. Or at least I hope I explain it. I better had do anyway!!_

_Wolfsong98 - How's work been? I'm happy you liked, but I'm sorry I made you wait!_

_Okays, spoilers for Sleight Out Of Hand, and many thanks for my patient beta, sparkyCSI!_

**

* * *

**

What The Eyes Can't See 

**Chapter 138: I woke up with a heartbeat in my head**

Morning rolled around all too quickly for Taylor. She and Flack had crept out onto the fire escape and watched the sun rise over the city's buildings. After a quick breakfast – well, a full breakfast for Flack, whilst Taylor had nibbled at her eggs – in the local diner, Flack had agreed to take her and Lindsay to the airport.

After taking her pills plenty of time in advance, take-off wasn't painful to Taylor as she had already passed out (admittedly, getting her on the plane had been trying). Waking her, Lindsay had discovered, was something else.

Taylor disembarked the plane and collected her luggage, feeling like a zombie. She was groggy, her head felt like it was full of cotton wool, and then there was an ear-piercing shriek and something launched itself at Lindsay.

'Hi Katy,' Lindsay smiled as she untangled herself from her sister.

Taylor blinked. Lindsay had told her they were identical, but she hadn't been expecting them to be _identical_.

'I'm so glad you're back,' Katy gushed. 'Ben's out in the car. And you have to come and see all the new horses. Apple is still there. He misses you.'

Alright, so maybe she was still a kid. As Taylor examined the girl closer, she realized that she did actually look younger – and not just through the braided pigtails and dungarees she was wearing.

'Katy, this is Taylor Turner.'

Katy turned to Taylor and gave her a hug. 'Welcome to Montana? Have you ever been before?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Furthest north I've been, this far west, is Las Vegas.'

'Well, welcome to the middle of nowhere. Come on, you need to meet Ben. He's waiting outside with the truck.'

Taylor watched as Katy grabbed one of Lindsay's bags and bounded out of the doors. Taylor turned to Lindsay who shrugged at her.

'I have no idea how Ben does it,' she sighed. 'She's like this constant ball of hyperactive energy, but he's still completely devoted to her.'

Taylor bit her lip. 'Look, Lindsay, it might not be my place to ask this, but, she doesn't seem to realize why exactly you're here.'

Lindsay's expression saddened further. 'She doesn't. Getting shot affected her memory too. Every time we talk, she asks if I've spoken to Emma.'

Taylor nodded but said nothing, following the state native out of the airport to where a blue pickup was waiting for them – Katy sat in the back, on the bed, as she swung her legs back and forth. 'Come on, slow pokes!'

'It's not too late to get a rental,' Lindsay muttered at Taylor.

Taylor looked at the three seater cabin to Katy and shrugged. 'Hell, why not? Let's get in the back. The weather's nice enough.'

---------------------------------------

Almost an hour later they were at the Monroe Ranch. The bone jiggling ride had done nothing to alleviate the mugginess in Taylor's head rather, it felt like someone had shaken all coherence out of her. Ben had taken the girl's bags into the house and Lindsay had led Taylor to a bedroom so that she could sleep off the rest of the sleeping tablets which were refusing to vacate her system.

She was awoke to a knocking at the bedroom door some time later, the sun clearly having set several hours ago. Taylor rubber her eyes and flicked on the light, blinking in its brightness as glanced at the alarm clock. It was only a little after ten, but she had slept for a good nine hours. Taylor yawned, surprised she was still tired, and called out for the person on the other side of the door to come in.

'I bought you some supper.'

Taylor opened her mouth, about to thank Lindsay, when she quickly realized it was actually Katy – it was only the pigtails which gave it away. 'Thanks, Katy,' she said taking the tray off her and settling it in her lap. 'But I could have come to the kitchen to eat this.'

Katy shrugged. 'It's not a problem.' She sat down on the bed and looked around the room. 'Have you met Emma?'

Taylor could feel the first mouthful of Shepherd's Pie she had taken plummet to the pit of her stomach whilst the second seemed to catch in her throat. 'Is this her room?' she asked.

Katy nodded. 'Yeah. I was hoping she would be back from college like Lindsay, but I guess she had too much work.'

Taylor swallowed, trying to push the food down her throat. 'Um,' she smiled, wondering what it was she was supposed to say.

'So what do you study?' Katy ploughed on, unperturbed by Taylor's lack of response.

'I'm not at college anymore,' Taylor explained carefully. 'I graduated a while back.'

'Oh,' Katy frowned. 'I thought you knew Lindsay through college?'

Taylor was saved from further awkwardness by Lindsay poking her head around the door. 'You're up then?' she smiled. 'I thought you were going to sleep right through the night.'

Taylor shook her head. 'Katy bought me food,' she told her as Lindsay joined her sister on the edge of the bed. Not that she was feeling particularly hungry anymore.

'So have you met any boys yet?' Katy asked, swinging around to face Lindsay.

'I've met plenty of boys, Kate.'

Katy rolled her eyes. 'That's not what I meant.'

Lindsay's eyes glazed over briefly as a small smile crept to the corners of her mouth. 'Kate, have you seen to your horses?'

Katy leapt to her feet laughing. 'Lindsay's got a boyfriend, Lindsay's got a boyfriend,' she sang as she practically skipped to the door.

'Horses, Katy. Horses.'

'So,' Taylor began after Katy had left. 'How is the boyfriend?'

Lindsay rolled her eyes. 'He's not my boyfriend, Taylor. He's with Nixon, remember?'

Taylor flushed. 'Look, I am sorry about that, you know.'

Lindsay nodded. 'I know. I guess I miss him.'

'Linds, I'm not going to pretend I know the ins and outs of your relationship, but maybe you should give him a call. I think he'd like to know where you are.'

'I left him a card,' Lindsay responded.

'Must have been a pretty big card,' Taylor said, eyeing her carefully.

'I just told him I was going home for a while.'

Taylor took a breath. 'Does Danny know _why_ you've come home?'

Lindsay sighed. 'Not really.'

'Call him.'

'It's late. I don't want to disturb him – he may be… busy.'

'Call him,' Taylor repeated herself. 'At the very least, if he is busy, he won't answer the phone.'

Lindsay rose to her feet. 'Maybe. You finished with that?'

Taylor looked down at the barely touched meal. 'Yeah.'

Lindsay took the tray. 'You'd better get some sleep. We have to be at court at eight.'

'Call him!' Taylor shouted after her as the door closed. She sat back and sighed. 'I've slept the day away. How on earth am I going to sleep now?'

She settled back and pulled her phone out.'

--------------------------------------------------

Flack laughed and hung up. Judging from the soft snores on the other end of the phone, Taylor had fallen asleep. In a sense, it was perfect timing as he had just reached Danny's. He knocked on the door and it was opened seconds later by Danny who was taking a swig of a coke. 'Want a beer?' he asked Flack.

Flack nodded. 'I bought some more,' he told him, allowing Danny to stick the fresh ones in the fridge whilst he popped the cap off the one Danny had handed him. He looked around. 'Where are the doc and the geek?'

'Adam is taking a detour to pick up some moolah,' Marty informed him as he appeared in the doorway.

'I thought you were heading back to St. Louis?' Flack asked him.

Marty shrugged. 'Flight's tomorrow morning. Figured I'd get you guys to pay for my flight.'

Danny laughed. 'Dream on, Pino.'

There was another knock at the door and Danny opened it.

'Hey guys,' Hawkes greeted them warmly. 'Look who I found.' He stepped to one side revealing Louie.

'Aw great,' Danny muttered under his breath.

'Not happy to see your brother?' Marty laughed.

Danny shot him a glare. 'Put this way, Pino, the only one who's going to be able to buy a plane ticket this evening is my brother.'

'Right you are,' Louie agreed, pulling a couple of beers from the fridge and handing them over.

'I don't know,' Marty smirked. 'How do you think I bought my Porshe?'

'Look, I have just got back from work, and I'm on call. Can we hurry this along before I-' Danny sighed deeply as his phone burst into life. He glanced down at the caller ID and cursed. 'Save me some money.'

'How long do you expect us to keep playing?' Louie asked him.

Danny glared at him. 'Fine. Lock up after yourselves.' He grabbed his kit and sulked out of the door.

Flack glanced down at his watch. 'Danny's got a point. I've got an on-call shift starting soon.'

'What about Adam?' Hawkes asked, mimicking Flack in looking at his watch.

On cue, the door to Danny's apartment opened again and Adam stuck his head around. 'Hey, Danny told me to let myself in.'

Marty smiled. 'Time to hand your money over.

-----------------------------------------------

Taylor awoke with a stiff neck and the sensation of being watched. She sat up, rubbing her neck, but froze when she spotted a ghost in the corner of the room. 'You have got to be kidding me,' she muttered under her breath.

The blonde haired ghost moved slowly and awkwardly towards her. Taylor stared. Her hands were handcuffed together, as were her feet – hence the awkward movement. She also had a red cloth stuffed in her mouth.

Taylor frowned, wondering where Maddy, Aiden, or even Eirik was. And then she noticed the cause of death – it looked like someone had taken a saw to her and sliced her in half. Taylor wretched, fighting the urge to throw up. Feeling herself failing, she dashed from her bed, across the hall and into the bathroom.

When she looked up from the toilet bowl, the ghost was still there, trying to tell her something with her eyes. 'Maddy!' she shouted in a whisper, trying not to wake the rest of the house.

Maddy appeared with Aiden and Eirik in tow. 'Hey Tay.'

'Don't _hey Tay_ me. Explain to me why there's a ghost in the bathroom.'

Maddy shrugged at her. 'Her body died?' she offered.

Taylor gave her a stony glare. 'If you were alive…' she trailed off, leaving her threat hanging.

'She needs your help.'

'Really?' Taylor snarked. 'And here was me waiting for a rendition of _Chicago_.'

'You're really not a morning person, are you?' Eirik mused.

Taylor rose to her feet. 'Just give me ten minutes to find a vacuum cleaner,' she told the three familiar ghosts through gritted teeth.

Aiden rolled her eyes. 'Look, this is out of our jurisdiction.'

'And I'm sure that will stop you,' Taylor muttered dryly.

'Sorry,' Maddy apologized, 'but the Powers That Be are being pretty strict at the moment.'

'And I wonder who's fault that is?' said Aiden, looking pointedly at Maddy.

'So sue me,' Maddy laughed. 'Either way, chica, you're on your own.' And the three disappeared leaving Taylor with a mute ghost staring at her.

* * *

_Hours at work went up - I didn't think there were enough hours in a week for it to do that, but apparently it is possible. Updates are going to be sketchy again for a while, but hopefully I can get back on track as soon as. I hope this tides y'all over for a while!_


	140. Too well dressed for the witness stand

_Alphina - Thanks for that - you know how many issues I've been having with these!_

_miss wizard of oz - are you still confused, because I'll rework things and try to explain them better if needs be!_

_RK9 - If it makes you feel better, I didn't want to take a hiatus - that was all the fault of real life! Gah! This is my first weekend off since the beginning of Septemeber!!_

_demolished-soul - I will actually do an actual boys night in at some point. I'm intrigued too, namely because I can't remember what I wrote!_

_sparkyCSI - I hope your head's alright!! How was the xmas party - it looked like you had fun! I don't think she's going to have one._

_meadow567 - here ya go! I'm sorry it took so long!_

_Still some slight spoilers for Sleight Out Of Hand - but with my take, of course. And also, many thanks to sparkyCSI for betaing!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 139: Too well dressed for the witness stand**

It took Taylor no more than fifteen minutes to wash and pull her suit on – the gagged ghost seemed in no hurry to leave, and nor did Maddy et al to return. Fuming silently at the ghosts, Taylor crept downstairs and was surprised to find Lindsay seated at the table nursing a cup of coffee.

'You're up early,' Lindsay muttered offering a mug.

Taylor shook her head. She was wide awake now and on top of that, the top part of the ghost which was stalking her periodically slid around on her bottom half, thus removing Taylor's will to consume anything. 'So are you,' Taylor counted.

'Couldn't sleep,' Lindsay shrugged.

Taylor nodded. 'That's understandable. When do we need to get going?'

'A little while. Ben and Katy aren't going.'

'Does that mean we get the front of the truck?' Taylor took a seat at the kitchen table, pointedly making sure her back was to the ghost.

Lindsay smiled. 'Don't worry. We'll be going in my car. Ben said he checked it over last night, so it should still be working alright.'

Taylor eyed her suspiciously. 'Why do I get the feeling it was built at the turn of the century.'

'Which one?' Lindsay teased her.

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Back in days gone by when most people travelled by horse and carriage.'

'It's not that old. Although it was my first car.' Lindsay drained the dregs of her coffee and sat back, staring out of the window. 'I called Danny.'

Taylor's eyes widened in disbelief. 'You called who?'

'Danny,' Lindsay repeated, her cheeks reddening slightly. 'He was driving back from a scene. He'd gotten called in. He was sulking actually, because he was supposed to be playing poker with the guys.'

Taylor nodded. 'So that's what Don was telling me last night!' she exclaimed. 'I called him after you left, but I think those sleeping tablets were still floating around in my system because the majority of that conversation remains a mystery.' She shook her head and shifted in the chair. 'How is he?'

'Don?' Lindsay asked her with a small frown.

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'No, _Danny_.'

'Adamant that he would have rinsed everyone of their pocket change. His words, not mine.'

Taylor pursed her lips. 'That's not exactly what I meant.'

'I didn't tell him,' Lindsay admitted. 'I don't want him worrying. Besides, he was busy with work, and that's a conversation which would need some time.'

Taylor nodded.

'Look, I should get dressed,' Lindsay sighed.

Taylor watched her leave. She looked like she hadn't slept a wink.

-------------------------------------------

Lindsay's car was a little Fiat from the eighties, and whilst it took a while for the engine to turn over and start, it did get going. The pair of them rode the journey to the courthouse in silence. Taylor stared at the mountainous scenery go by in the seemingly inappropriate bright sunlight – the mood in the car was much more somber.

Finally, they drove into Bozeman, heading along the main street to the courthouse. They pulled up on the street parking and vacated the car. As Taylor was straightening out the skirt to her suit, the gagged ghost appeared again. Pursing her lips, Taylor stared at her, glanced at her watch and looked up at Lindsay who was staring down the street lost in thought.

Taylor sighed, glancing over Lindsay's shoulder, which was when she spotted the Sherriff's office. She frowned and glanced back at the ghost who was still trying desperately to convey some form of message with her eyes.

'Lindsay, would you mind if I met you in there?'

Lindsay nodded, distracted, and walked into the court case, wringing her hands nervously.

Taylor glanced at her watch again. She had twenty minutes tops. It was time to perform a new record in getting people in believing her. She started to run across the street, realized she couldn't in the heels she was wearing, and slowed to a hasty walk.

Taylor opened the door to the police station and walked in, surprised at the size of it – all things considered, she was expecting a bigger station.

'Can I help you?'

Taylor looked over at the owner of the voice, surprised to find someone so young waiting patiently for her response. 'I'm looking for a detective.'

The officer smiled. 'Sorry, ma'am, you won't find any detectives in this station. Just me and the other deputy.'

Taylor blinked. 'Oh,' she frowned.

'Is it something I can help you with?'

Taylor glanced at the clock which was just visible behind his blonde hair and sighed. 'Ok, I'm on a deadline here, so forgive my bluntness, but I have this ability to see dead people. There's one standing next to me at the minute, actually. Speaking of, I don't suppose you could give me the location and/or the detective in charge of a homicide where the victim was a blonde woman, quite literally sawn in half?' she asked him politely.

The officer stared at her, his eyes narrowing. 'I knew the heat drew out the crazies-'

'I'm not crazy,' Taylor quickly interjected, biting her tongue so as not to say something which would probably get her arrested.

'_Ghosts?_' the officer repeated skeptically.

Taylor shut her eyes, took a deep breath and released, taking a different approach. She sat down heavily in one of the waiting chairs looking at the floor, hoping that the fake sob she was attempting was sounding realistic enough. 'She's dead. And I think I know who did it. I just,' she faltered, trying to think on the spot. 'I just don't want him coming after me. I mean, look at what's happening in court today.'

The officer had actually sat down next to her, offered her a tissue and put a reassuring arm on her shoulder. Until the mention of the courthouse. At which point he jumped to his feet and glared down at her. 'Which paper are you with?' he demanded.

'I'm not here for a story,' Taylor exclaimed, forgetting she was supposed to be on the verge of tears. 'There is a dead girl!'

'Ma'am, I can assure you that there have been no deaths reported in this city or county today. Human or otherwise.'

Taylor threw her arms up in exasperation. 'Look, so I didn't witness it. But I really do see ghosts. I can describe-'

She was cut off by the officer grabbing her arm, pulling her to her feet, and all but pushing her out of the door. 'I suggest you leave and don't come back,' he fumed at her. 'Unless you want me to throw you in the cell. I am not going to release any information, regardless of how you dress up the questions. If you want answers you'll hear them the same as everybody else.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. She spun around, and literally had to jump out of the way as the door went flying shut at her. She glared at the ghosts as she walked through the door, joining her on the steps. 'I am so glad you've been gagged**,'** Taylor hissed at her. She turned and stalked back across to the courthouse – just who did that officer think he was? If she actually did want information about the case, she certainly wouldn't have made up some story about ghosts. And she would have dam well got the information too!

Taylor walked into the courthouse, allowed for her eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight, and spotted Lindsay, heading over. She sat down on the bench next to Lindsay, slightly flustered at the dashing around, but Lindsay didn't seem to notice. 'You alright?'

Lindsay nodded. 'I think so.'

'Do you want me to wait out here with you?'

Lindsay quickly shook her head. 'I need you to tell me what the defense said later.'

Taylor bit her lip but nodded. Still ignoring the ghost, she placed a reassuring hand on Lindsay's arm. 'You sure you're alright?'

Lindsay gave her a brief smile. 'I've got to ring Stella.'

Taylor nodded and watched the petite woman rise, walk a couple of paces and pull out her phone. Which was when the ghost decided to step into her line of sight. Taylor sighed. 'Look,' she whispered, hoping no one was watching. 'I have already made a fool of myself this morning. You have got to give me _something_ to go on.'

The ghost coughed and the red material which was being used as the gag, fell to the floor. Taylor stared intently at it before she realized the white squiggle was actually a rabbit in a top hat. 'Thanks,' Taylor muttered.

Jumping at her own phone ringing, Taylor pulled out her phone and grinned cheerfully at the sight of Flack's name. 'Morning,' she sighed into the phone.

'_What's the matter?_' Flack asked instantly.

'What makes you think there's something wrong?' Taylor asked in surprise.

'_Taylor, I think I know you well enough by now to know when something's not right with you.'_

'Casper,' she admitted.

'_They__ found you in Montana?'_ Flack asked in disbelief.

Taylor nodded, and then, realized Flack couldn't actually see her, agreed verbally. 'I think it's a safe conclusion that I'm never going to get a vacation.'

'_Sorry babe. Can I do anything?'_

Taylor smiled. 'Not really. Not unless you can tell me what words to use to get the deputy to believe him.'

'_I wish I could. How's Lindsay?'_

Taylor glanced over at her. She looked terrified, but she was still chatting with Stella. 'I don't know,' she admitted.

Flack sighed. '_Give her my love.'_

'I will. So who won the poker?'

'_I was certain you were asleep when I told you that.'_

Taylor smirked. 'Who won?'

'_It was Adam when I was left. I got a call. You should have seen it. Actually, it's probably a good thing you didn't. We've got some whacked out magician…'_

Taylor stopped listening. Lindsay was rooted to the spot like she was actually petrified. Taylor turned to see what she was staring at, the door bursting open as reporters bustled into the room, all crying out for a comment from the man in chains in the midst of them.

'I've got to go,' Taylor muttered into the phone, flicking it shut and cutting of Flack's concerned protests, unheard. 'Linds?' she asked her friend gently.

Lindsay snapped out of the trance as Taylor stepped between her line of sight of the guy, and she quickly said goodbye to Stella.

'Linds?'

Lindsay flicked her eyes to Taylor. 'That's him,' she whispered.

Taylor looked back at the man as he was escorted into the court room. 'Are you sure you don't want me to stay out here with you?'

Lindsay shook her head.

-------------------------------------

'What you will hear in the next few moments are the opening statements of the lawyers. What the lawyers say is not evidence. The purpose of the opening statement is to foreshadow or predict for you what the evidence will actually be. It will be up to you after hearing all of the evidence whether either side has proved or correctly predicted what the evidence will be. I caution you that what you hear in opening statement is not evidence. The evidence will begin when the first witness begins to testify.'

Taylor took a breath and settled back into the chair, taking notes. It was going to be a long day. The fact that Casper the not-so talkative ghost was staring at her was her first clue to that. The judge's monotone voice was the second.

She was also freezing. Almost to the point she was sure it was a supernatural chill, but the only ghost around was the blonde two-piece. She pulled her jacket tighter to her and listened to the opening statements.

* * *

_First of all, I want to say a HUGE thank you to all of you for sticking with me on this! I know my updating has become sparse, and it really is killing me. I think my beta will agree I'm never online any more - I am not only working two full time jobs (don't ask me how - I beginning to think there's a reason for sleep) and now, I am also keeping an eye on my rabbits. Jack got neuted - he's sulking. Luna gave birth! Yes, I am a grandparent! At 23! Woot! Thus far, they are all buried in the nest, furless. The should be all hoppity by about Wednesday!_


	141. The headline reads the man hangs,

_Thoren - I'm sorry I made you wait - I'm just glad the wait didn't put you off! I'm trying to get back into a pattern now_

_miss wizzard of oz - I'm glad to hear that. I do that too sometimes - I end up missing key bits and then think, huh?_

_sparkyCSI - And that's the best way! I'm still laughing over Carrie's Little Sister. I'm almost tempted to dare you to post it for real!!_

_meadow567 - It is. It was mainly to show that death doesn't take a holiday and the dead still need help. Also, I was feeling mean and wanted to confuse Taylor for a bit_

_demolished-soul - Aw, thank you for that! It's such a nice thing to hear! Well, I've worked out the plot now - I see an end. Worryingly, it's a while off. But there is an end!_

_RK9 - What kind of dog do you have? I will have to be nice and give her a holiday eventually, won't I? Maybe a honeymoon? (:P)_

_KiPpiEi - Is Holland that far behind? Well, I truely hope it doesn't spoil too much - I'm trying to be a season behind, although it is tempting to move in to season 4 soon. Where are you up to?_

_Still semi-spoilers for Sleight Out Of Hand. And thanks to sparkyCSI for betaing, as well as to Aphina for helping me with the ins and outs of this chapter!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 140: The headline reads "the man hangs", but the jury doesn't**

Taylor took a sip of water, watching Lindsay shred her napkin into numerous pieces. They had broken for lunch and Taylor had spent the time telling Lindsay what had been said (even though she knew she probably wasn't supposed to) but it didn't even seem like the petit brunette had been listening.

Finally Lindsay looked up at her. 'Thank you for coming.'

Taylor gave her a bright smile. 'You know it's not a problem.'

'No,' Lindsay sighed. 'It is. So thank you.'

Taylor shrugged. 'You're welcome.'

'Do you ride?' she asked suddenly.

'Um,' Taylor put the fork she had been playing with down. 'I can manage a walk if it's all tacked up for me.'

'You want to go for a ride?'

'What about the case?'

'After,' Lindsay sighed, resuming the shredding. 'I need to get out of here.'

'Wouldn't you rather go by yourself?' Taylor asked her curiously.

'I need to be with someone who can distract me from myself.'

Taylor pursed her lips and nodded. 'But trotting is out of the question.'

Lindsay gave her the first real smile Taylor had seen on her all day. 'We should be getting back.'

Taylor nodded and followed Lindsay back to the courthouse. Whilst Lindsay went to the bathroom, Taylor pulled out her phone, contemplating whether or not to call Flack.

'I might have known I'd have run into you here.'

Taylor looked up, slipping her phone back into her pocket, the call forgotten about as she found the disapproving glare of the officer from before bearing down on her. Taylor gave him a wry smile in return. 'Yeah. I was waiting for you to turn up so I could break into your files and get the inside scoop.'

The officer's glare intensified to the point his eyebrows became one.

Taylor glared back, her hands now on her hips. 'Joke. I'm here for moral support for my friend.'

'And would she be dead or alive?'

Resisting the urge to launch something large and heavy at his fat head, Taylor instead clenched her hands into fists, but kept them to her side. 'That's hilarious,' she informed him dryly. 'The jokes better every time I have to tell someone. I take it there hasn't been a call out to a dead body then?'

The officer shook his head. 'Probably because there isn't one.'

'Excuse me,' Taylor forced her voice to remain level as she turned to reenter the courtroom. She took a seat, unsurprised to find the ghost awaiting her. 'You wanna give me a clue as to where I can find you?' she hissed at her.

The ghost coughed, the fabric dislodged itself and fell to the floor in a transparent heap. Taylor blinked, amazed, and bent over to pick the thing up. Her fingers, of course, went straight through the fabric. With a frustrated sigh, she stared at the red fabric, her eyes tracing the white outline of a rabbit in a hat.

'What does that mean?' she asked, bringing herself upright to find that the fabric gag was back in the ghost's mouth. 'Never mind,' she muttered, doodling the image onto her notepad, aware that the officer had stepped into the room and was seated on the other side of the isle, glaring at her.

However, she didn't have much time to think about either further as the court reconvened and the prosecution continued with its witnesses.

-------------------------------------------------

'It's a store receipt for a Walther P22 handgun,' the lead criminalist from the case was saying. 'Dated September 1996, just weeks before the murders. We recovered the gun and matched the rounds recovered from the bodies to the gun.'

The Assistant District Attorney nodded, turning to the jury. 'If you look at page fourteen of your booklets, evidence MA142007A, you will see the scientific evidence. Detective Phillips, if you would care to explain.'

Taylor tuned out whilst the CSI explained about ballistic analysis and matching wear patterns – lord knows she had heard about that one enough times. Not that she could ever have the patience to stare under a microscope and match minute lines with each other.

In fact, it wasn't until he was cross-examined that she tuned back in.

'But Calendale has already admitted to the fact he hunts,' said the defense attorney.

'But for a person to hunt with this type of weapon is highly unlikely.'

Taylor didn't think the attorney could leap on a bit of information like that – the CSI might have well as told him the magic words to turn pennies into dollars.

'Unlikely, but not impossible?'

The CSI nodded, somewhat reluctantly. 'Yes, but.'

'Thank you, Detective Phillips.'

Taylor narrowed her eyes, her stare boring into the back of the attorney's head. 'Seriously?' she muttered, earning a reproachful glare from the judge. She gave him a small smile and sank into her chair. Getting thrown out of a courtroom was probably not something she wanted.

Finally, Lindsay was called into court. She swore on the bible and took a seat. Taylor gave her a reassuring nod and placed her pen down on her pad. Whilst Lindsay had shared a lot of what happened, she was sure there was more to hear.

'Well, Miss Monroe, would you care to explain what happened?'

Lindsay nodded and took a breath. 'It was late afternoon, but it was dark out already. I was in the lab trying to get some work finished so I could get home for the weekend. My two sisters, my husband and two of our friends were in there with me. They were trying to get me to hurry up – Ryan, my husband, had a surprise arranged for me back home. I didn't know that – I thought we had to get home to check on my mom. She'd been ill.' Lindsay stopped and took a deep breath.

'Are you alright, Miss Monroe?' the attorney asked.

Lindsay nodded. 'I wasn't far from finishing the experiment, but the battery I was using died. I told the others to wait there, not to touch anything, and I left them. The last thing I told them was that if they touched anything I was going to kill them.' Lindsay let out a sound which was somewhere between a dry laugh and a strangled sob. Judging from the tears welling up in her eyes, Taylor assumed it was probably the latter.

'What happened next?' the ADA asked her gently.

Lindsay sniffed. 'I left them and went to the store cupboard across the way. The store cupboard locks and as there's no handle on the inside, you have to wedge it open. I was half up the shelves, trying to reach a battery on the top shelf. I heard Phil suddenly ask "who are you?" and then I heard Emma scream.'

'Miss Monroe, could you tell the jury what you saw?'

Lindsay nodded. 'I turned around. There was a man in the doorway. He had something in his hand – a gun. Emma's scream was cut off by a bang. Before she hit… everyone was screaming. I just froze. I should have run, tried to get some help, but I just stood there clutching the battery….'

Taylor couldn't understand anything else that Lindsay was saying because she was crying to hard.

'You honor, can we take a break?' the ADA asked.

The judge glanced at his watched and nodded. 'We'll finish here for today and reconvene at ten tomorrow.'

-------------------------------

Back in New York, Danny was pacing back and forth. He hadn't slept in what was literally days, and the Luke Blade copycat killings were frustrating him beyond belief. Plus he was hallucinating. He was certain he had seen Lindsay walk past. Which was impossible, considering she was in another state.

'You look like crap.'

Danny looked up and glared at his friend over the top of his computer monitor. 'Don't hold back, will you?'

Flack grinned. 'You could call her, you know? Get her to take your mind off things.'

'Lindsay?'

Flack stared at him, a smirk across his face.

'What?' Danny demanded.

'I was referring to Nixon. I bet she could keep you occupied. But if this whole thing with Lindsay is bothering you, maybe you should go see her. Give her some support.'

Danny sat bolt upright. 'Support? What do you know that I don't? Stella said she was having a hard time of it.'

Flack bit his lip. 'Look, I promised I wouldn't say anything, Danny. But the case she's giving evidence in, well, let's just say it's hitting a little closer to home than she's gonna admit.'

Danny sighed. 'I can't. I am actually meeting Nixon.'

Flack glanced at the clock. 'Well, if you change your mind, there's a flight in a couple of hours.'

------------------------------

'What's the matter, Blue Eyes?' Nixon asked in her ever chirpy tone.

Danny snapped back to reality – the burger joint they had met in. 'Nothing.'

Nixon cocked her head. 'It's something.'

Danny pulled his glasses off a rubbed a hand over his eyes. 'It's Lindsay. I'm worried about her.'

Nixon brought her hands up, propping her head on them. 'You care about her.'

Danny met her eyes, nodding. 'Yeah.'

Nixon smiled. 'Can I say something?'

Danny stared at her, almost fearing the verbal lashing he was sure was going to come. It didn't.

'Go talk with her.'

'What?' Danny blinked, unsure as to whether he heard her correctly or not.

'Your mind is in one place right now, and that's with her,' Nixon informed him almost clairvoyantly, completely without malice in her voice. 'You should talk to her. Or better yet, go see her.'

Danny stared, slightly open mouthed.

'Look, don't get me wrong, I like you, Blue Eyes. But if your heart's not in it, at least we can say we had some fun. And if you work out you two aren't meant to be, I'm not going to hold it against you.'

Danny stared at the woman in front of him, a new sense of appreciation setting in. 'You are amazing. You know that?'

Nixon nodded. 'Just tell me straight up. That's all I ask.'

Danny nodded. It was the least he could do.

------------------------------

'This is Apple,' Lindsay murmured, stroking the tall horse.

Taylor stared at it. It was enormous.

'Have you got anything in a smaller model?' she asked.

Lindsay smiled. 'Don't worry, I'll put you on Marmite.'

The two had returned to the ranch a short while earlier and had a quick bite to eat. Lindsay seemed a little better, but when she'd asked if Taylor was ready for the ride, Taylor had been reluctant to say yes. Which was how she was standing in front of Lindsay's horse which was looking at her as if to say, _you aren't going to let her anywhere near a horse, are you?_

'You know I don't know how to put a saddle on, don't you?'

Lindsay nodded. 'Don't worry. I'm an expert. We can be out of here before you know it.'

Taylor gave her a forced smile, which Lindsay didn't seem to see and followed her to Marmite. This one was a little better – it was smaller and looked… bored.

It took Lindsay no time at all to tack the two horses up and they were out on a trail before Taylor could pluck up the courage to say otherwise.

'I miss riding,' Lindsay sighed, shutting her eyes to the breeze which was blowing through her hair.

'Have you considered moving your horse to New York?' Taylor asked. Strangely, she was beginning to enjoy the ride. Marmite just followed Apple obediently.

'I have, but I couldn't. I work too much, and I couldn't have him boarded – I'd rather have Ben look after him. He's brilliant with horses.'

Lindsay swiveled in the saddle. 'How's the house hunting going?'

Taylor shrugged. 'It's not. Well, on the rare day when neither of us is working, the apartments we see just aren't right.'

'I suppose it's a good thing you're not in any rush.'

'Are you kidding me? I'm dying to find a place.'

'I could give you the number of the guy who found me my place. I went from sleeping on a friend's couch to having my own bed in less than two weeks,' Lindsay offered.

'Thanks,' Taylor smiled. She glanced over at her friend. 'You're dying to go faster, aren't you?'

Lindsay grinned. 'Is it that obvious?'

'Go on,' Taylor smiled.

'I couldn't leave you,' Lindsay told her, shaking her head.

'Don't be silly,' Taylor shrugged. 'I've got this walking lark covered. I'll just keep following the trail. When you've had enough and turn around we can head back.'

'Thank you,' said Lindsay, her smile widening. And then she was off.

'Well, it's just you and me, Marmite,' Taylor sighed. Which was when two things happened simultaneously. Firstly, the gagged ghost appeared. Secondly, Marmite reared – Taylor only just managed to hang on – and the bolted off to the left.

Somewhere along the way, Taylor had lost the reins and was holding onto the horse's mane for dear life, screaming all the way, until eventually, she stopped.

'Whoa!' a man's voice rang out. 'Are you alright?'

Taylor peaked her eyes open to find the officer from earlier, now dressed in jeans and a checked shirt, holding onto the bridle, a collie at his feet. Taylor shook her head and slithered off the horse, shaking violently.

'You?' the officer asked in surprise.

'Hi,' Taylor muttered, trying to get her heart and breathing to something resembling a normal rhythm.

'What happened?'

'Ghost,' Taylor spat, as if using a dirty word.

'A ghost?' he asked, rolling his eyes.

'Yeah, a ghost. Spooked the damn horse.' Taylor retaliated with her eyebrows raised and a fierce edge to her voice as she gave him an icy glare. Which was when the ghost appeared again.

'What the hell?' the guy yelled as he tried to hold onto the horse.

'Go away!' Taylor shouted at the ghost. 'Come harass me later!' Her shouts were joined by the dog barking his agreement.

'Larry, shut up!' the off-duty officer hissed – the barking was not helping the horse. And then the horse had broken free and was gone.

'I get the picture!' Taylor shouted at the ghost. 'I will help you! Just not now!'

The ghost disappeared.

'Larry! Shut _up!'_ The collie finally stopped barking. 'What the hell was that?'

'Lindsay's gonna kill me,' Taylor was muttering, staring at the black dot which was just disappearing out of sight. 'I lost a horse.'

'He won't get very far,' the guy sighed.

'Have you ever lost a horse before?' Taylor shot at him.

'Yeah, I have, actually.'

Of course he had. Taylor groaned. 'Just who are you?'

'Brett Willets,' he told her, holding out a hand.

'Taylor Turner,' Taylor responded. 'And where the hell am I?'

'Where are you trying to get to?'

Taylor scratched at her head. 'You know, I don't actually know. The Monroe Ranch – but I-'

'Lindsay Monroe?'

Taylor nodded slowly.

'Does she know you've been snooping around the precinct?'

Taylor was ready to hit him. 'I wasn't snooping!' she snapped. 'I get stalked by the dead.'

'Then why were you in the courtroom?' he shot back at her.

'She's my friend! She invited me.'

'So why were you taking notes?'

'For her benefit. You know what, screw this. I have a horse to find.' She turned on her heel and stormed off in the direction Marmite had run.

'Wait!' Brett called after her. 'Hey,' he said, appearing beside her. 'Let me give you a ride back to the ranch. Ben knows his horses inside out. He'll know where to find Marmite.'

Taylor eyed him suspiciously but nodded. She followed him a while down the road until they arrived at what she assumed to be his house, and got into the police SUV which was parked up outside. They pulled up outside Lindsay's home a short while later, to which Ben, Katy and Lindsay came dashing out.

'Taylor!' Lindsay cried. 'What happened?'

'I lost Marmite,' Taylor admitted.

'He's there,' Ben told her, pointing at said horse who was munching calmly at some hay as though nothing had happened.

Taylor glared at it.

'What happened?' Lindsay repeated.

'He spooked,' Taylor growled, still sending death glares at the horse. 'Brett saved me.'

Lindsay turned, noticing Brett for the first time. 'Brett.'

'Lindsay.'

Taylor looked between the two of them. There was definitely an atmosphere between them.

'Is the horse alright?' Brett asked Ben.

Ben nodded. 'Just needs rubbing down.'

'You need a hand?' Katy asked.

Ben nodded. 'Sure.'

The two of them headed over to the horse and led him away.

'I should go,' said Brett. 'I'm glad you're okay,' he told Taylor before he too left.

'And he is?'

'Cop,' Lindsay answered shortly.

'I guessed that when I saw him in his uniform earlier,' Taylor informed her. 'What's the history between you?'

'He's Ryan's brother,' Lindsay sighed. 'I think I'm going to get a bath and an early night,' she muttered. 'I'm glad you're alright.'

-------------------------------

True to her word, Lindsay had gone to bed early, leaving Taylor alone again. Ben had also gone to bed, but Katy was keeping her company as the pair of them sat out on the porch. Katy was telling her about her horses, but Taylor was only half listening.

'Who's calling at this time?' Katy asked.

Taylor looked up, finding the lights to a car Katy had noticed. It took a while for it to make its way down the lane, but it finally reached the house. And a familiar figure got out.

'Danny?' Taylor burst out in disbelief.

'Hey Drew!' he responded cheerfully. 'At least I found the right place.'

'Who's that?' Katy asked. 'Your boyfriend?'

'Hello to you, Montana,' Danny muttered, sounding a little uncomfortable.

The proverbial light switched on in Taylor's brain. 'Danny, this is Lindsay's twin, Katy.'

Danny's jaw hit the floor. 'Damn! There's two?'

'There's three of us,' Katy told him cheerfully.

Taylor froze. How the hell was she going to fix this mess? And why hadn't Lindsay told him she was a triplet?

* * *

_Well, the rabbits seem to be doing fine - I'm hoping they'll open their eyes soon. They have fur though! Two are brown like their dad, and the rest are black like mom!_


	142. The press prays for whichever headline's

_RK9 - I think it's going to take a little longer than 'after this case', considering there's not been a proposal! I was wondering what it would take to make you like Nixon! lol. I've had this random idea with twins dancing in my head or a while!_

_Aoife - lol, I get so absorbed in writing sometimes, I do the same (:s) I always saw an actress called Taylor Cole playing her, or at least, when I see my story in my head, that's who I see. I've had a a story I've been writing, but I've been so busy I barely have time to write this. I kinda just gave up on it! Anyway, I'm really happy you're still reading and enjoying!_

_demolished-soul - I think there have been many clips missing over the last few seasons - so I'm going to try and include them here! (:D)_

_sparkyCSI - I am proud! I keep checking them and holding them! I wanna keep them all though (:c) I think I'm gonna keep Nixon around, I'm not sure how though! I have plans for Marty and Adam... maybe Louie, but then I dunno. I still laugh when reading it. I think you should post it!!_

_Thoren - Sometimes I think I'm a little hard on Danny! I'm trying to be nice - not have him too confused, even considering the fact he didn't know about Lindsay's sister!_

_meadow567 - I probably could have made the meeting a little funnier, but for some reason, the inspiration wouldn't come._

_So, we;re nearly done with the SOOH spoilers. I'm not, however, done with thanking my wonderful beta, sparkyCSI!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 141: The press prays for whichever headline's worse**

'Katy, this is Danny Messer. He's one of mine and Lindsay's friends,' Taylor told the woman as Danny joined them on the porch. 'Why don't you go get Lindsay up?'

Katy nodded and bounded inside.

'There's three of them?' Danny asked in disbelief, sitting heavily in Katy's chair.

'She hasn't told you anything, has she?' Taylor muttered, more to herself than to Danny. 'Ok, I'm going to sum this up so the wrong thing doesn't get said in front of Katy. You're going to have to get the details off Lindsay.'

'Alright,' Danny nodded, still looking a little shot.

'Lindsay is one of three – triplets. Emma, Katy and herself. But the three of them,' Taylor frowned. 'Something happened. Something Lindsay witnessed, which is why we're back here. Emma died, and Katy was injured. She doesn't remember anything, Katy, I mean. She still thinks Lindsay's at college and Emma's alive.'

Danny stared at her, trying to absorb the garbled information. 'Oh,' he sighed heavily, leaning back into the chair. 'Wow. I mean, I knew she had a sister, but, wow!'

'Yeah,' Taylor agreed. She cocked her head at him. 'Why are you here?'

'Flack and Nixon,' Danny shrugged.

Taylor narrowed her eyes. 'What do you mean, _Flack_?'

'Stella told me Lindsay was having a hard time of it, Flack encouraged me to fly out,' Danny shrugged. 'Actually, it was Nixon who told me to. Even drove me to the airport.'

Taylor just stared. _Nixon _encouraged him?

'Danny?' The two of them looked up to find Lindsay in the doorway, a robe pulled tightly around her pajamas.

'Hey Montana,' Danny grinned. 'I got the card.'

'What are you doing here?'

'I came to see a wheat field.'

Taylor looked away, trying to hide the smile on her face. Interesting answer. 'You know, I think I'm going to hit the sack,' she said, faking a yawn and quickly disappearing into the house. Things were certainly going to get interesting.

--------------------------------

'When did she tell you?' Danny asked as they took their seats.

Taylor shrugged. 'The day before we flew out here.'

'I had no idea,' Danny muttered.

'What time did you get to bed this morning?' Taylor asked him – the fact that both of them looked like they hadn't slept hadn't gone past her.

'We haven't,' Danny yawned. 'She told me everything. Man, I can't believe it.'

'I know,' Taylor muttered, about to continue, when the blonde ghost appeared. 'I was wondering when you'd appear,' she muttered.

'Who?' Danny asked, looking around. He stopped and looked back at Taylor. 'Are you kidding me?'

'You have no idea how much I wish I was,' Taylor told him dryly.

'Haven't you been to the local PD?'

Taylor shot him a look. 'Seriously?'

'And nothing?'

'Na-da!' Taylor exclaimed in frustration. 'Nothing. And now the local PD thinks I'm not only crazy, but trying to get the inside scoop on this case.'

'Tell me everything in the break and I'll see if I can give you a hand – flash my badge around,' Danny whispered as the judge took the stand.

Lindsay had been back on the stand for ten minutes when Taylor could smell something which was making her stomach turn. Judging from Danny's lack of interest, he clearly hadn't smelt it, which meant one thing. Taylor clamped her eyes shut, thinking it would go away. It didn't.

'Save her.'

Taylor reluctantly opened her eyes. At the sight of the crispy human, Taylor felt the contents of her stomach churning. Not even caring she was in the middle of court, she clamped her hand over her mouth and dashed out, only just making it to the bathroom.

She was feeling very sorry for herself as she reemerged from the bathroom. This time, when the burnt ghost appeared, she was slightly more prepared – at the very least, there was nothing left in her stomach.

'Save her,' he informed her in his raspy voice.

Taylor swallowed, taking a deep breath. 'Who?'

The ghost's response was to hold a knife up.

'A chef?' she asked.

'Save her,' the ghost repeated before disappearing.

Taylor sighed and headed outside, sitting down on the steps. She wasn't going back in until after the next break – she couldn't disturb the proceedings again.

-------------------------------

'Casper?' Danny asked her, sitting down next to her.

'Casper, the burnt-to-a-crisp ghost,' Taylor muttered in agreement. 'Where's Lindsay?'

'Talking to the prosecution.'

'I didn't disturb things too much?'

Danny shook his head. 'Might have worked in the prosecution's favor, actually. You know, story's so horrifying?'

'Great,' Taylor muttered.

'Alright, tell me about these ghosts,' Danny said, nudging her leg with his. 'We'll go harass the PD after.'

Taylor shrugged at him. 'The one I left the room for – he was burnt to a crisp. He was telling me to "save her". And the cryptic clue of choice is a blade. Which all I can come up with is a horrific cooking accident.'

'And the other one?' Danny asked, looking thoughtful.

'A she. Blonde. Wearing handcuffs. It looked like she had been sawn in half. Oh, and she was gagged with a red piece of fabric which had a rabbit-'

'In a top hat,' Danny finished off for her, giving her a strange look.

'How did you know that?' Taylor asked in amazement.

'Because that was the case I was working on before I left.'

'You have got to be kidding me,' Taylor muttered angrily.

'I'll call Stella,' Danny offered.

As Danny moved away, Taylor got to her feet and, placing her hands on her hips, hissed, 'Maddy! Aiden!'

'Hey chica,' Maddy greeted her.

'Oh, we are not in the mood for the friendlies,' Taylor snapped at her. 'Drop all this crap about jurisdictions and tell me what the hell is going on.'

'We can't,' Aiden shrugged.

Taylor threw her hands in the air. 'For crying out loud. If you want me to help a spirit, you don't leave me to assume she's been killed on the other side of the country. At least – gah!' she cried, too frustrated to continue.

'Look, Taylor-'

'Don't!' Taylor snapped. 'Just don't.' Had the pair been alive, she would have barged straight past them. Instead she barged straight through them.

'Geeze, you look pissed,' Danny muttered as she joined him.

Taylor just growled at him.

'Taylor?'

Taylor whipped around so fast, her hair slapped Danny's face. 'Sorry,' she apologized. 'What?' she demanded at Maddy.

'Look,' Maddy began tentatively, 'I think you should get back to New York.'

'Why?' she asked, suddenly very worried.

Maddy took a breath, hesitant to say, which was when Eirik and Aiden appeared. 'Austin and Vienna need your help.' Aiden informed her.

'I can barely help two dead people. How do you expect me to help two cities?'

Danny stared at her blankly. 'Two cities?'

'Vienna and Austin,' Taylor shrugged.

'They _are_ your two dead bodies,' Aiden told her, rolling her eyes.

Taylor stared incredulously at her. 'One has a handkerchief shoved in her mouth and the other is burnt to a crisp telling me to save someone. How the hell was I supposed to assume that they were their names?'

'Taylor?' Danny began.

Taylor turned. 'How would you feel to letting me take your rental car?'

'Where are you planning on going?' he asked.

'Back to New York.'

Danny's eyes almost fell out of his head. 'My rental policy doesn't cover unlimited miles!' he exclaimed.

Taylor gave him a reproachful look. 'To the airport, Messer,' she muttered, smacking him upside the head.

'You want to fly? Alone?'

Taylor bit her lip. 'I'd rather not discuss that one. But yeah, I need to get back.'

Danny nodded. 'Stella seemed worried when I called.' He frowned. 'Actually she seemed confused as well. But that's not important.'

'Keys, Messer,' Taylor muttered, holding her hand out.

'What are you going to tell Lindsay?'

'What are you going to tell Lindsay about what?' Lindsay asked, joining them on the steps.

'Linds, I have to go,' Taylor told her.

'Why?'

Taylor took a breath. 'Something's come up,' she told her ambiguously. 'But you know I wouldn't go unless it was important.'

Lindsay looked thoughtful, but nodded.

'Besides,' Taylor added. 'At least you have Danny.'

-----------------------------------------

The flight back was what Taylor could only describe as hell. If you took out the fact that she was terrified of flying, she was also kept company by a barbequed human, and two halves of another which bounced apart from each other every time they hit turbulence. Which was virtually all the way home.

If it wasn't for the fact she was clutching the arm rests so tightly her knuckles were white, and the turbulence, Taylor would have spent the journey with her head in the toilet. Instead she had to manage by staring at the back of the chair in front of her, trying to ignore the ghosts which she could see from the corner of her eyes, and focus on her breathing. Indeed, the gentleman next to her actually asked how far apart her contractions were and if he needed to inform the flight attendant. For a brief, much needed moment, Taylor's attention was spent biting off the man's head, asking him if her underweight frame actually looked nine months pregnant.

What with leaving so quickly, Taylor hadn't had an opportunity to eat sleeping tablets like they were going out of fashion. Consequently, the landing was spent cursing in four languages – and receiving some death glares from a nearby mother who was clamping her hands down over her six year old son's ears.

By the time Taylor had caught a cab and was leaving La Guardia, she was ready to hit the drinks cabinet, not the crime lab. She was certain the ghosts knew how close she was to changing her destination by the fact they chose to appear in the cab.

The stench of burnt flesh was filling Taylor's nostrils, and it was only the fact that there was nothing in her stomach that stopped her throwing up – that being said, not even the window being wound all the way down was stopping it from churning.

However, after the journey, by talking to the driver, (who couldn't stop talking about Luke Blade's amazing magic tricks) she figured she was actually one step ahead for once when she ran into the crime lab.

'Luke Blade,' she panted, informing Stella and Mac.

'What?' Mac asked.

"Luke Blade,' Taylor repeated. 'The psycho killer who's killings are carbon copies of his tricks. It's Luke Blade.'

'We know,' Mac responded.

'No, it's Luke Blade, the-' Taylor stopped. 'You _what?_'

'We know,' Mac repeated.

'I flew back across the country to tell you something you _knew_?' she asked in high-pitched disbelief.

'We know who he is,' Stella confirmed. 'We just don't know _where_ he is.'

Taylor growled. She was actually ready to stab someone. 'I can't help you with that one,' she muttered. 'Excuse me,' she added, heading for the bathroom.

Her hands were leaning on the side, supporting her weight, as she glared at her reflection in the mirror. _So much for needing to get back urgently_. They already had the killer worked out. She was muttering unnecessary obscenities under her breath when the bathroom exploded.

Not literally. Rather, the sinks went mad and water went flying. All over Taylor.

Spluttering, she turned, finding Vienna and Austin in front of her. 'What the _hell_?' she managed.

Which was when the water started doing something strange. The jets from the taps they were spouting from began to take a shape. A twenty three and an eleven.

'I get it!' Taylor roared, holding a hand up to stop the water gushing into her face.

And then the water stopped.

'I am going to kill them,' she muttered under her breath, stalking out of the lab, back to where Mac and Stella were still standing.

'Taylor?' Stella stared in amazement.

'23rd and 11th,' Taylor fumed at them. 'And I think you need a janitor to the bathroom.'

'23rd and 11th?' Mac repeated.

'I'm pretty certain it's where you're going to find Luke Blade.'

'Taylor?' Flack's voice carried sharply down the corridor.

Taylor turned. 'It's probably better you don't ask,' she winced, suddenly conscious of the fact she looked like a drowned rat.

'Um, ok?' he responded, eyebrows still arched in puzzlement. He turned to Mac and Stella. 'Blade's team has reported one of their trucks missing. It's got the equipment in it needed for his last act.'

'We got a location?' Stella asked.

Flack shook his head. 'I've contacted LoJack but they said it's going to take about twenty minutes.'

'He's somewhere at 23rd and 11th,' Taylor insisted. 'I got sent back from Montana for this one. Please, I don't think you have much time.'

The three detectives looked at each other. 'We have twenty minutes,' Stella shrugged. 'We might as well check it out.'

* * *

_So, I wasn't expecting this chapter (or the next) to turn out like it did. In my eyes, something is missing (so if anyone has any suggestions they would be greatly recieved!)_

_And because I haven't mentioned it for a while - go read Gotham's Heroes!!_


	143. And as the cold wind blows across the

_KiPpiEj - You jumped from mid season 3 to season 4? That is confusing! That being said, I jump around with episodes all the time, so I can't talk!_

_Aphina - you did what I do and worked too hard! I hope you feel better!! Woo hoo! I am going to convert all to the DL pairing... at least mine anyway. lol. Sometimes I think I'm really cruel to Taylor. But it makes me laugh, so I'll keep being mean._

_Thoren - I am trying again to be regular... why does that statement sound so wrong (:P) It kills me not to update, and it kills me even more not to be able to write - mainly because my brain won't switch off_

_RK9 - I think I would have too - I'm far too impatient. However, if it got me in the crime lab, I'd stick it out! No Nixon twins, don't worry! (:s) Christmas presents? How about some... fish? Or maybe a double chapter update for Chrstmas?_

_sparkyCSI - There are three this season I like so far, and whilst there's one I'm going to use in a few chapters time, I'm trying to refrain from using them until they're shown in a few more countries!_

_demolished-soul - Oh, you have just reminded me that I have a zillion loads of laundry that needs doing (:c). Nope, no reason - just me being exceptionally mean to Taylor!_

_meadow567 - I'm going to have it mentioned in this chapter, but I was bored writing a courtroom, so I figured people would be bored reading it. Lol, thanks for reading!_

_I think this is the final chapter with spoilers for SOOH. Again, this was a chapter which played out differently in my head - at least the 'smuttiness' was removed, never to be shown to the world. Although I have left some fluff in it... Anyhoos, big thanks to my beta, sparkyCSI!!_**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 142: And as the cold wind blows across the graveyard I think I hear the voice of my old friend whisper in my ear**

'Maddy!' Taylor bellowed, the second she slipped into the locker room. Maddy appeared as she was opening Stella's locker (she'd told Taylor there were some towels and a couple of overalls in there she could borrow as she'd left).

'Chi-'

Taylor whirled. 'No.'

Maddy cocked her head. 'No, what?'

'No – I don't want any excuses. Was it really necessary to send me across the country for that? Could I not have been drenched in Montana?'

Maddy pursed her lips and then shrugged. 'We figured Danny and Lindsay needed some alone time.'

The urge for stabbing someone had returned with a vengeance. 'What?' Taylor demanded.

'It was Aiden's idea,' Maddy whined, feeling surprisingly uncomfortable from the glare Taylor was sending her, considering she was dead.

Opposite her, Taylor was clenching her fists open and closed. 'Maddy,' she said in a strained voice through clenched teeth. She took a breath. 'Unless I am still needed this evening, I suggest that I have no more dead visitors. Otherwise I shall be buying a Dustbuster.'

'What's a Dustbuster?' Maddy asked suspiciously.

'A handheld vacuum cleaner' Taylor snapped. 'And don't think that I won't.'

Maddy cocked her head once more, and then nodded, disappearing.

Suddenly aware of how cold the room got when the dead visited (she was still wet, after all), Taylor hurriedly stripped out of the wet clothes, dried herself off, and climbed into the itchy, all in one overalls.

Feeling slightly more relaxed – the slapping noise her clothes made as they were hurled against the door had been somewhat therapeutic – she sank onto the bench and pulled out her phone. Which didn't help her mood as either the water or the fling against the wall – or both – had been enough to cause it to stop working.

Begrudgingly, she headed to Danny and Lindsay's office and sat down, picking up the phone and calling Lindsay. She answered on the second ring, very confused as to why her office was calling her.

'Hey Linds,' Taylor sighed.

'_Taylor?'_

'Yeah. It's probably better that you don't ask. I just wanted to know how today went?'

'_It's all over,' _Lindsay told her – Taylor could hear the relief in her voice.

'What happened?'

'_It took the jury thirty eight minutes to come to a decision. He's been sent to Deer Lodge.'_

'Why does that sound like a holiday camp?' Taylor asked.

Lindsay laughed. '_Hardly. It's where they send prisoners on death row. He's getting the needle.'_

Taylor sat back into Lindsay's chair with a heavy thud. 'Wow. Did you get an answer?'

'_An answer to what?'_ Lindsay asked.

Taylor sighed patiently. 'A reason,' she elaborated. 'You know – why he did it.'

'_What makes you think I needed one?'_

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Do I really need to explain that one?'

Lindsay sighed. _'There wasn't one.' _She paused. _'Well… Ryan had cut him __off__ in the parking lot – stole his parking space. The others had laughed. He snapped and followed them with a gun.'_

Taylor frowned. 'But why didn't he shoot you?' Taylor winced at the questioned she blurted out.

On the other end of the phone, Lindsay let out a hollow laugh._ 'He ran out of bullets. The reason he didn't shoot me was because he ran out of bullets.'_

Slowly the laughter turned to wracking sobs. 'Lindsay?' Taylor asked, tentatively.

'_I'm sorry, I know I should feel relieved at the fact he's finally been brought to justice, but I don't. I just feel frustrated. My friends were killed because he was a-'_

Lindsay was cut off by Danny – Taylor wasn't quite sure what he said, but Lindsay sniffed, thanked Taylor for calling and rung off.

----------------------------------

'You sure you want to do this?' Danny asked, looking over at Lindsay who was staring through the steering wheel of her car.

Lindsay looked over and nodded.

'I can come with you if you want?' Danny asked her, unsure as to whether or not he was pressing too much.

Lindsay gave him a grateful smile as she shook her head. Silently, she took a breath and stepped out of the car. A mere handful of minutes later, she was standing in front of a row of graves she hadn't visited in a long time.

'Hi guys,' she muttered, her eyes lingering over each of the names. _Emma, Phil, Megan… Ryan._ She walked over to his and knelt down in front of it.

'Sorry I haven't been to visit,' she said, talking to the tombstone. She knelt there for a while, having a silent conversation with the ghosts of her past. Finally, she pulled something out of her pocket. It was her wedding ring. 'I'm letting you go,' she whispered, pushing the gold band into the earth. 'I love you, and I always will, Ryan. Goodbye.' She kissed her fingers and pressed them against the cold black marble.

Feeling like a small weight had been lifted, she turned and walked back to the car, sliding back into the driver's seat, where Danny was staring patiently at her. 'You alright?' he asked her.

Lindsay smiled at him, started the car and turned the radio on. As the intro to Hermes House Band's _Take Me Home Country Roads_ began playing, she turned and looked at him. 'I will be.' She turned the radio up and pulled away.

Danny glanced at her. 'I have _got_ to wean you off the country music.

A short ride later, and although Danny would never admit it, he was enjoying one of the songs on the radio and was a little disappointed when they pulled up outside Lindsay's. He followed Lindsay out of the car and up onto the porch.

'Danny,' she started, stopping suddenly and turning around. 'Thank you for flying out here.'

Danny blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. 'It's nothing.'

'It wasn't,' Lindsay corrected him. 'It means a lot to me that you came.'

Danny placed his hands gently on her shoulders, squaring up to her. 'Just because we broke up doesn't mean I stopped caring.'

Lindsay swallowed. 'You mean that?'

Danny nodded.

Lindsay took a deep breath. 'I never stopped either. I just… well, you found out today what I had going on.'

'You could have told me, you know.'

'I know, and I know I should have,' she told him. 'But I… push… people,' she said, struggling to find the words. 'I thought Ryan and I would be together forever, but happily ever afters don't happen, and I-'

'They do,' Danny told her, cutting her off.

'What do?' Lindsay questioned with a frown.

'Happily ever afters.'

Lindsay gave him a smile. 'We'll see.'

Danny let out an exasperated sigh. And kissed her. When he finally broke away, he pressed his forehead against hers. 'They do,' he repeated. 'And if you tell anyone I'm a closet hopeless romantic, I will have to kill you.'

Lindsay bit her lip, knowing as she voiced the words, she probably shouldn't have if she wanted to stay in that moment. 'What about Nixon?'

Danny bit his lip and stepped back. 'You're right. I'll tell her when we get back. I'm afraid you're going to have to wait until then for your fairy tale ending.'

'You think we could start again?' Lindsay asked hesitantly. 'Keep things slow?'

Danny nodded. 'I think we can manage that.'

----------------------------------

Taylor sighed and rooted around for her keys in the bottom of her purse. She was exhausted and a melancholic mood had set over her. Finally, she located them and unlocked her door. Yawning, she stepped into her apartment, shut the door, and was about to fling her bag down when she stopped.

There were candles. Everywhere.

'What on earth?' she muttered, blinking in disbelief. In every direction she turned, candles of all shapes and sizes littered the surfaces. She made her way to the solitary rose on the hallway's telephone stand and picked it up.

She nearly dropped it when a pair of arms enveloped her from behind.

'I was expecting you back a while ago,' Flack muttered into her hair.

Taylor whirled around in his arms, suddenly feeling shy – like a schoolgirl on her first date. 'What did I do?' The panic set in, plummeting to her stomach like a stone. 'Have I forgotten something?' she asked wracking her brains for any important date. Her eyes widened. 'Six months?'

Flack smiled. 'Actually, it's closer to seven. So we both forgot that one. This wasn't for anything other than to say I missed you. Plus I still owe you.'

Taylor arched her eyebrows. 'Owe me for what?'

'For being such a jerk,' he told her in between nibbling her neck, whilst deftly shedding her of her jacket.

As she let out an involuntary gasp, Flack stopped. 'You don't have to stop,' she told him.

'You're wearing Stella's overall,' he responded.

Taylor stared at him. 'I can lose them pretty quickly,' she pointed out.

Flack just smiled. 'Follow me.' He led her to her bedroom. It too was bathed in a warm light created by candles littering everywhere – even the corners of her room.

'Don?' Taylor gasped.

'Shhhh,' he told her, leading her through the bedroom to her small bathroom. Inside, it too was full of candles, as well as Taylor's portable CD player which was playing what sounded like a Howie Day CD. Flack walked over to the tub and turned off the taps which had been gushing water.

Taylor looked longingly at the tub, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.

'Are you going to stare at it, or are you going to get in?' Flack asked her, already in the process of shedding his clothes.

Taylor didn't need to be told twice. Within seconds, she was climbing into the tub with him. 'How did you know?' she moaned, leaning back against him.

With his cheek pressed against hers, Taylor could feel him smile. 'Because.'

'That's not an answer,' Taylor muttered.

It took Flack fifteen minutes before the cramp began to set in and he began trying to discreetly wiggle his leg.

Taylor poked an eye open. 'Is that your not-so subtle way of telling me you're done relaxing?'

'No, your tub's too small,' he winced.

'Ever thought you're too big?' Taylor responded, watching the water begin to lap dangerously close to the edge of the bath.

'Ah!' Flack yelled, leaping up, disturbing Taylor, and sending a tidal wave crashing onto the floor, extinguishing half the candles in the room, plunging them into almost total darkness.

There was a crash followed simultaneously by Flack's yelp in pain. Any of the candles that had managed to survive the bathwater tsunami certainly didn't survive Flack sending them flying. It was probably only the fact that the bathroom was drenched which stopped it setting alight.

'Don?' Taylor asked in alarm, jumping out of the tub, catching her foot on his, and then falling on him with a loud 'oomph!'

'Fancy meeting you down here,' Flack laughed.

Taylor rolled her eyes before smirking. 'I can think of something we can be doing down here.'

Flack cleared his throat and slid her off him, climbing to his feet. 'Maybe later,' he told her nonchalantly. 'Why don't you get dressed?' He opened the door and strode out into the lit bedroom, where he quickly pulled on a pair of boxers and a vest.

Both pouting and frowning at the same time, Taylor padded out to the bedroom, pulling a robe around her, and headed for the drawer filled with her nightwear. She pulled the drawer open, cocking her head, as she tried to decide between very conservative – warm and fluffy with little penguins, or a skimpy nightgown which left very little to the imagination.

With an evil grin, she opted for the skimpy. That would show him.

* * *

_My muses are being evil - they want to write anything but the next chapters! Oh well! _

_That is unimportant. What I did want to say is thank you for reading - I've had a look at the stats and I really didn't know that there was so many of you out there! You've certainly made my day!!_


	144. I'm fighting things I cannot see

_Aphina - See, I wasn't trying to be funny there - it's the next few chapters where I've tried! lol. I think I may be taking them slightly out of character - but it works for me!_

_demolished-soul - I'm tempted to keep her around for a while - popping in now and again. I have a fair few things planned for Taylor... I can't give it away!_

_meadow567 - I would, but I suck at anything remotely smutty. I tried and it was absymal! I'm going to have to leave it to your imagination!!_

_The Corrupter - Um, WOW! I think you just reviewed over thirty chapters! I'm glad you're still coming back to it and I'm flattered you're taking the time to review each chapter!! I keep forgetting everything so I think you'll just have to roll with it. And yes, Hawkes is gonna get some loving! How you liking Surrey?_

_RK9 - I think I need some luck! Thank you Seymour! Ok, Double chapter update on Christmas Eve! How's that? Not sure if there's a lotof fluffiness in those chapters, but there is a little coming up!_

_Thoren - Chanukah! Or Hanukah... I dunno! Merry Christmas to you too... or whatever you celebrate! Glad you liked!_

_TBD - She's not just Taylor's guardian angel! Yeah, I caved, I got them back together... or they will be soon._

_sparkyCSI - You know I've actually had to reread the chapter because I forgot what I wrote! I posted the next chapter of GH too!_

_So, this chapter, and the following ones in the mini-story arc, are actually dedicated to Heidi. And also to Aphina who cheered me up after the flame and encouraged the idea said flamer had put in my head!! It's also a parody! (It's been in my head for a while) No spoilers, just many thanks to sparkyCSI because she has _really_ helped with the next few chapters, as y'all will soon witness!!_

_

* * *

_

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 143: I'm fighting things I cannot see (I think it's called my destiny)**

Taylor awoke feeling happy and very, very content. A small smile spread across her lips, compounded by the feel of Flack's arm draped lazily across her stomach. She could tell by the rise and fall of his chest against her back that he was still very much asleep.

Truth be told, she had no desire to move from that spot. As though reading her mind, Flack groaned and pulled her tighter to him.

Which was when his cell phone went off.

'I'm pretending I can't hear that,' she moaned, pulling the duvet over her head as Flack rolled over and grabbed his phone.

After a few muffled minutes of conversation, Flack's head appeared under the covers. 'I've got to go.'

Taylor turned and pouted. 'Couldn't you pull a sickie?' she asked, battering her eyelids.

Flack chuckled, kissing her on the forehead. 'I'll be back this evening. Just because I have to get up, doesn't mean you do.'

'Trust me, I'm not moving,' Taylor informed him, wrapping the covers around her like a cocoon, as he slipped out of the bed.

She should have known then and there, as she declared that statement,it wasn't going to happen.

'Mary Sue.'

Taylor whirled around and found herself staring at the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She was about her height, with a fantastic figure which had curves in all the right places, golden blonde hair which hung down in perfect waves, and the most striking azure eyes… through one of which, was a coat hanger hook. 'Mary Sue.'

Taylor blinked, feeling her stomach churn, 'Did you just call me Mary Sue?'

'Mary Sue,' the model-like ghost repeated.

'My god,' she muttered to herself, 'The Powers That Be actually listened when I told them to quit with the cryptic. So is that you, or your killer?'

'Mary Sue.'

Taylor sighed, 'Of course it's not going to be that simple.' She sat up and stared pointedly at Maddy. 'I'm pretty certain the conversation we had last night implied I didn't want to see a ghost for a long time.'

Maddy shrugged. 'Because I control The Powers That Be? I can send in Eirik if you'd rather not have me?'

Taylor flopped back on the bed. 'No, it's fine.'

----------------------------

With a feeling of deep-set exhaustion which didn't seem to be in any hurry to shift, Taylor ambled into the lab, finding Hawkes almost immediately.

'Taylor,' he smiled. 'You look… hot.'

Taylor smiled back. Sadly, he didn't mean hot in a good way. Outside, it was the hottest day to date that year. It felt like everything was melting into one big puddle. And the flip flops, short shorts and halter neck top wasn't helping. 'Why is it so hot in here?' she asked him, fanning herself with her hand.

'AC is on the blink,' Hawkes shrugged. 'The labs have to be temperature controlled, so it's lucky they're still working,' he frowned. 'I wouldn't say hello to Adam just yet though.'

Taylor stopped fanning herself and turned around. Adam was in one of the labs, warming his hands on a Bunsen burner as some chemical mixture bubbled away on top of it.

'He's actually serious, isn't he?' she muttered in disbelief.

'Yeah,' Hawkes laughed. 'But after boiling in the corridors, it's actually freezing in those labs. So is this a business or pleasure visit?'

Taylor grimaced. 'Trust me, if this was pleasure, I wouldn't be here, rather curled up under my duvet.'

Hawkes arched an eyebrow. 'Duvet? And you think Adam's mad.'

'Hey, I didn't realize how warm it was outside when I woke up.'

'So, what delight has your ghost shared with you?' he asked, leading her back to the elevator.

'Human is the new fur?' Taylor shrugged.

Hawkes stared at her as the elevator pinged open.

'Sheldon!' Angell exclaimed. 'Just the CSI I was looking for.'

Hawkes turned to Angell. 'What have I done?'

Angell grinned. 'Nothing. It's just that you're the CSI on my case.'

'And what case would that be?'

'The one dispatch is about to call you with. Fashion designer killed in a Tribeca loft. With a _coat hanger_!'

Taylor's head whipped around. 'A coat hanger?' she repeated. 'I don't suppose the victim's name was Mary Sue, per chance?'

Angell frowned and glanced at her notebook. 'Michelle Adams. Why?'

Taylor pulled a face. 'Crazy dream?' she offered with a shrug.

Hawkes looked between the two women, sensing things were about to get awkward. 'Come on, Jen. We'll catch you later, Taylor,' he told her, trying to send the message of _wait in the break room_ with his eyes.

Taylor nodded, very content not to have to see the victim in real life.

----------------------------------------

'Hey Taylor!' Stella greeted her warmly, pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge. 'What brings you here?'

'Same old, same old,' Taylor shrugged. 'What are you working on?'

Stella smiled. 'The joy that is paperwork.'

'Ouch,' Taylor muttered in sympathy. 'You need a hand?'

'It's not the research kind, it's the I've-been-putting-off-writing-up-the-Luke-Blade-case-and-Mac's-on-my-back-for-it kind.'

Taylor cocked her head. 'That doesn't sound like you.' She stared scrutinizingly at her friend. She looked tired – the sleep deprivation hidden beneath layers of makeup. 'Stell, you alright?'

For a moment, Taylor saw something in Stella's eyes, but it was gone before she could work out what it was.

'I'm fine,' Stella told her, her smile never faltering. 'Anyway, I should get back to the computer.'

Taylor nodded, watching her leave.

----------------------------------------

Sometimes, Taylor forgot just how long it took to actually process a scene. Ready to ditch Maddy and Michelle, who had turned up, coat hanger still hanging from her eye, she got up and stretched, heading for the water fountain.

Which was when she walked into someone. Literally. Or rather, someone hurried into her.

'I am so sorry,' the woman apologized. 'Are you alright?'

Taylor nodded. 'I'm fine. Are you?'

The woman nodded, then shook her head. 'I am hopelessly lost. And late.'

'What are you looking for?'

The blonde looked down at a piece of paper she was clutching in her hand. 'I'm looking for a Detective Mac Taylor.'

'Mac?' His office is that way,' Taylor told her, pointing down the corridor. 'Think goldfish bowl.'

The blonde thanked her and hurried on.

----------------------------------------

'She's obsessed with _Sex and the City_,' Hawkes declared, dropping on the couch next to Taylor, who was pretty thankful he had returned as Michelle and Maddy had reappeared some time ago.

Taylor glanced sideways at him. '_Sex and the City?_'

'_Obsessed_,' Hawkes repeated. 'She has pictures and posters all over her flat, and enough Manolos in her closet to rival Carrie. Or so Angell tells me,' he added quickly upon receiving the look Taylor sent him.

'And as far as I can remember, there isn't a character called Mary Sue in _Sex and the City_.' Taylor frowned. 'I'd have to check though.'

Hawkes frowned. 'I might be missing something, but isn't it usually a lot harder than this?'

'What do you mean?' Taylor asked him.

'Well, you've never been to me with the murderer's name before, let's put it that way.'

Taylor nodded. 'I'm still holding out that it will be that easy,' she told him, whilst sending a pointed glare at Maddy – which was lost on her as she only had eyes for one person in that room. And it wasn't the other dead one.

'Well, I think I might see if Adam has found anything.'

Taylor whipped her head around. 'How can Adam have found something?'

Hawkes patted her thigh sympathetically. 'I've been back, processing evidence for a while.'

'Oh,' Taylor mouthed at him. 'Did you find anything?'

Hawkes laughed. 'Hasn't the conversation we've just had indicated that I don't?'

Taylor pouted. 'Yeah.' She got to her feet and followed Hawkes out to the lab. 'Oh, Sheldon, I meant to ask, do you need a running buddy?'

Hawkes looked at her. 'A running partner?'

Taylor nodded. 'Marty used to run with me, but he isn't here. And I haven't been out in so long. He told me you ran.'

Hawkes smiled. 'You're more than welcome to join me.' The pair walked into the lab. 'Hey Adam. Have you got anything for me?'

'Have you had a page?'

'Defensive much?' a familiar voice laughed.

Taylor turned and found the tall blonde who had run into her earlier. 'You!' they both said at the same time, smiles on their faces.

'You found Mac alright?' Taylor asked.

The blonde nodded. 'Goldfish.'

Adam stared suspiciously between the two of them. 'How do you two know each other?'

'Actually,' said Taylor with a smile. 'We don't. I just gave her directions.' She turned to the blonde. 'Taylor Turner.'

The blonde's mouth dropped open. 'I _knew_ I knew you.'

Taylor could feel the heat rising into her face. 'Yeah.'

'Sorry,' the woman apologized. 'I bet you must be sick of that! I'm Kendall Novak.'

'Sheldon Hawkes,' Hawkes smiled, shaking her hand.

'Do you want to know what I have?' Adam interrupted.

Taylor blinked. Those weren't _jealous_ vibes, were they?

'I thought you said you didn't have anything,' Hawkes shrugged.

'I said I hadn't paged you,' Adam corrected him, practically bristling up in defense. 'I found something on the vic's laptop.' He led them over to the said item. 'I was looking through her emails. The work ones are all dull. But her personal email is filled with emails from something called _FanFiction_.'

'What on earth is that?' Hawkes asked.

'A website dedicated to fans of television shows, books, films, cartoons – you name it, where they can write their own stories using developed characters,' Kendall answered without skipping a beat.

Taylor pursed her lips. 'So what does Michelle have to do with it?'

Kendall took a seat, virtually pushing Adam out of the way, and clicked on a link in the email. 'It seems she writes. For _Sex and the City_.'

Hawkes laughed. 'That does not surprise me. But is it relevant?'

Kendall shrugged. 'Honestly, I couldn't say without reading what she's written and we're swamped.'

Taylor beamed. 'I have time to read.'

'It might be nothing,' Hawkes warned her.

Taylor shrugged. 'Dude! It's _Sex and the City_!'

Sheldon nodded. 'Alright. You wanna give me a call if you find something.'

Taylor returned the nod. 'And you let me know if the name Mary pops up.' She leant over, took the username and the website address and turned, heading for home._**

* * *

**_

_So, I've been looking back over my story – trying to find time to tie up loose ends and re-edit the early chapters and I realized I've lost a few reviewers. Have I done something wrong, or are you lurking in the shadows. To all those who are still reviewing – thank you! You really do make my day!!_

**_BTW, The next chapter of Gotham's Heroes is up and waiting to be read!_**


	145. The rest is still unwritten

_Aphina - I feel you on the lack of sleep thing. Uni is closed - one job... so why am I still getting the same amount of sleep as usual?! Yeah, these few chapters had a lot to do with you!_

_meadow567 - When I sat and worked these few chapters out, we came to the conclusion that Kendall would probably know a lot about FanFiction, so I brought her in early. But as I'm still messing up the order, and considering using a season 4 episode very soon...!_

_Mauradingknight - (:D) I admit - I was worried I'd lost you! Glad you're still there reading and enjoying though!_

_miss wizzard of oz - No, not at all. I was flicking back and there were a few names I realised I hadn't seen in a while - I was hoping I hadn't lost them and they were lurking... but I thought about it - if they had stopped reading, wasn't exactly going to find out why! It's alright, my life is constantly hectic. I hope you've caught up on work!_

_Thoren - not an episode - me and my _crazy_ ideas that have been brewing around in my head!_

_Maraena - Hello! So long as you're still reading! lol. Thanks for delurking to let me know - I didn't want to have lost you somewhere along the lines!_

_RK9 - Yup - original idea, for better ot worse! It makes me soo happy, and relieved, to hear that! Come join the wabbits, Seymour! The fridge is empty so I don't need to worry about that!_

_demolished-soul - I'd like to take the credit, but it was Aphina who came up with it and put the idea in my head- I just wrote it._

_sparkCSI - Hope the headache is gone! It's time for your shining moment - POST IT. Mwahahaha!!_

_**A/N**__ Whilst it's possible __she__ may actually NOT want credit in this chapter, I have to let it be known that the fic within the fic, _Carrie's Little Sister_ was written by sparkyCSI. I would like to point out, to those who haven't read her work, that this is by far the best, worst thing she has ever written – it was only because I asked! You really should read her real stuff, though! __**(Sparky here—I'll actually take credit for it, considering how hard it was to write!! Of course, I was laughing so hard that I couldn't see the screen!)

* * *

**_

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 144: The rest is still unwritten**

_I love New York. Don't get me wrong. It's my favorite city in the whole world. But it can also be somewhat problematic. Sure, a lot of cities have the same problems. But today, my problem was in New York. And strangely, the problem was the fact it was Fall._

_More specifically, when I pulled out my brand new Manolo Salonica's this morning, the weather suited them. Less than thirty minutes of having them on my feet, the rain was about to turn them to worthless __Wal-mart__ originals. And to top it off, I was late._

_My second problem was that two separate men jumped in front of me, stealing my taxis off me. My other problem, once I had manage to leap into a taxi – and I had just put the entire Russian gymnastics team to shame with that maneuver, was the traffic. I had to be at the Vogue headquarters in three minutes and traffic was against me._

_By the time I reached my destination, I had had the door slam in my face by one of the men who had stolen the taxi off me, and then, he had the __audacity__ to not hold the elevator. I couldn't help but wonder… were women now seen as equals and expected to fight for their taxis, or was chivalry dead?_

It was dark when Flack returned to Taylor's, and Taylor was absorbed in the story. She was actually beginning to really enjoy it. The author, Michelle, or _Manolos In The City_, was actually a really good writer. The story was a long one – something of an epic by Taylor's standards (although, after investigating some other boards, the length was quite tame) and read like it was a season of _Sex and the City_. Although from Carrie's perspective, it looked at all the characters, and seemed to be set after the last episode – it was almost like the missing season.

Until she got to chapter 77. Which was when a new character was introduced, or as Michelle put it, an _oc, based on someone she knew_. Although, after reading this new character, Leanne, was an evil bitch. A somewhat perfect evil bitch, with the perfect body, beautiful skin, a Harvard education, and stole Carrie's job, boyfriend, and circle of friends away from her.

This was when it started to get stranger, because suddenly, the tone of the story got humorous, with serious undertones, when Leanne was stabbed in the eye with a Manolo. And then Charlotte, Samantha, and Miranda all helped her to dispose of the body – and they got away with it.

'You look… baffled,' Flack offered, handing her a drink.

'I have no idea if this is déjà vu, or life imitating art,' Taylor frowned, cocking her head at the web page.

'How long have you been staring at that screen?' Flack asked her, slightly concerned. 'And have you eaten?'

The frown remained plastered on her face as she struggled to remember. Finally she sat back with a sigh. 'I haven't,' she admitted. 'I've been here since I got back from the lab. Which was lunch.'

Flack rolled his eyes. 'I'm ordering pizza.'

Taylor nodded.

'And you're giving your eyes a break. You're not even wearing your glasses,' he reprimanded her.

'Yes, mom,' Taylor smirked, removing herself from the table and following Flack from her bedroom to the kitchen.

'Wanna watch some TV whilst we wait?' Flack asked her.

Taylor looked up at him. 'What would you say to _Sex and the City_?'

Flack looked back down at her. 'Were you one of those that cried when it finished?'

'No!' Taylor objected.

---------------------------------------

A few hours later, Taylor was stretched out on Flack, who had fallen asleep watching _Dogma_. Taylor glanced up from her position under his arms and smiled. He looked so peaceful. Which was exactly how she too felt. Until she looked back at the television and spotted Michelle and Maddy standing to one side.

'Mary Sue,' Michelle told her, mournfully.

Taylor pursed her lips, but said nothing. Instead, she extracted herself from Flack and returned to her laptop.

It didn't take long for her to finish the story – very little happened after Carrie's murdering moment – it was clear that Michelle was bringing it back to normal before she died. As she stared at the last paragraph written, Taylor realized she was going to miss the story. If Michelle hadn't have died, she would have loved to have carried on reading – crazy side story included.

Unsure as to whether or not there was more to the story, Taylor went to go back to the beginning, when she noticed a link for the author profile. Curious, she clicked on it. Strangely, the only information on it was about her anger at a plagiarizer. And how this story was the original, not the one that was copied word for word, typo for typo.

With a frown, Taylor clicked on the FanFiction _Sex and the City_ homepage and scrolled down until she found the story Michelle had been referring to. It had exactly the same name, only it was written by _iluvmr.big_.

Taylor rolled her eyes at the name, but clicked on the user profile.

_Name: Roxanne_

_Location: NYC baby!_

_Hey! You guys found me! So, like I so live the real Sex and the City life! I'm in my earlie thirties and live in NYC just like Carrie!!!! I'm a writer for a fashion mag and I'm quickly rising up in the ranks._

_I love all stories and would love some more reviews!!! If ya wanna chat…just PM me and I'll hook up with you!_

_XoXoX_

_Love ya lots!!!_

_Roxanne_

'How the hell is a writer that bad, writing for a magazine?' Taylor exclaimed in disbelief. The author had written four stories. Allegedly. When Taylor clicked on the first story – Michelle's, it was obvious it was copied word for word – even if she hadn't read Michelle's story, iluvmr.big's story wasn't written anything like her profile was.

The next stop was the reviews for that story. All of them pointed out it had been plagiarized and all of the reviewers had informed the author she was being reported.

It was the same story for the second and third fictions - both had been copied from other authors and the reviews held a similar tone.

The fourth story. Well that was in a league of its own.

_**AN:**__ howdy y'all!!! this is my first s&c fic ever! I jst love carrie so much! please review!!! _

_**Carrie's Little Sister**_

_CARRIE BRADSHAW WAS LIKE THE COOLEST WRITER EVER! WHEN HELENA FIRST MET HER BY ACCEIDTN ON THE SUBWAY SHE IMMEDATLEY FELT LIKE THEY WERE SISTERS LOST AT BIRTH. SHE REMEMBRD THAT DAY LIKE YESTRDAY._

_HELENA HAD THE MOST PERFECT FIGURE. SHE WAS 5'7 WITH LONG DARK BROWN HAIR WITH THE BEST BLONDE HIGHLIGHTS IN THEM. HERE EYES WE BROWN BUT SHE LIKED TO CHANGE THEM WITH CONTACTS. RIGHT NOW THEY WERE AGUAMARINE. ALL MEN DROLLED OVER HER PERFECT 36-24-36 FIGURE AND HER LONG LEGS. SHE WAS A SITTING ON THE SUBWAY WHEN SHE SAW THE COOL MS. BRADSHAW STEPP ON THE TRAIN. SHE TRIED NOT TO SQUELE IN HER HAPPINESS AND WAVED TO HER IDOL TO LET HER KNOW SHE COULD SIT BY HER._

"_HI" SHE GUSHED. "YOUR CARRIE BRADSHAW! I'M LIKE YOUR BIGGEST FAN! OMG! YOUR ARE THE BESTEST WRITER EVER."_

_CARRIE LOOKED AT HELENA AND NOTICED THAT THEY LOOKED VERY SIMILAR. "THANKS!" SHE REPLIED. "WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"_

"_HELENA. I READ YOUR COLUMN EVRY SINGLE DAY AND I'M LIKE DARN, SHE'S A ABFAB WRITER! THAT'S WHY I STARTED WRITING! OHHHH!!! CAN YOU LIKE LOOK AT MY STRORY?" SHE GUSHED AS SHE OPENED UP HER D&G BAG. SHE TOOKOUT A FOLDER AND FILPPD IT OPEN. HERE YOU GO."_

_CARRIE SCANNED THE PAGE AS SHE READ HELENA'S STORY. "THIS IS SOOOO AMAZING," SHE SQUELED. "I LOVE IT. IT'S LIKE YOUR READING MY MIND! THIS IS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL WHEN I WRITE."_

_YOU SEE, HELENA'S STORY WAS ABOUT CARRIE AND HER FRIENDS. IT WAS ABOUT HOW CARRIE FELT HAVING TO WRITE A COLUMN AND WHERE SHE REALLY GOT HER IDEAS._

_HELENA WATCHED CARRIE'S SMILE GROW BIGGER THE MORE SHE READ. "THE ONLY THING I DIDN'T KNOW WAS WHAT MR. BIG LOOKED LIKE."_

_CARRIE LOOKED AT HER. "HE'S ABOUT 6-2 DARK HAIR, DROP DEAD GORGEOUS AND RICH. WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED TO KNOW?" CARRIE SIGHED WITH A DREAMY EXPRSSN IN HER EYES._

"_UR SO LUCKY, CARRIE" HELENA SAID. "I FEEL LIKE WE ARE SISTERS. YOU SEEM TO GET ME MOR THAN ANYONE ELSE."_

_CARRIE NODDED. "ME TOO! LISTEN…DO YOU WANT TO GO TO MY PLACE? YOU CAN MEET THE GIRLS WITH ME!!"_

_HELENA SQUELED IN DELITE. "I'D LUV TO! THANKS CARRIE!! YOU'RE MY BIG SISTER NOW!!"_

_CARRIE GRINNED AS THEY GOT OFF OF THE TRAIN IN MANHATTEN._

_**AN: **__okay guys!!! what y'all think! if you want more you have to review!!!!_

'My eyes are bleeding,' Taylor muttered, rubbing her eyes, wondering what had possessed her to actually finish the first chapter of that monstrosity.

'Tay?' Flack questioned sleepily from the door. 'What have you done to yourself?'

Taylor spun around. 'Subjected myself to the worst piece of writing known to man,' she blinked.

'Any chance I can persuade you to turn that off and get some sleep?' he yawned.

Hesitantly, Taylor glanced around the room, but when Michelle and Maddy didn't appear, nodded, closing the laptop.

* * *

_Well, reviews would be much appreciated! And if you would like to review _Carrie's Little Sister_, please do! You never know – I might use it (so feel free to make up a user name too) and I'm sure Sparky will be delighted to hear your thoughts!_

_P.S. This isn't a dig at a specific person and any commonalities remain purely coincidental! _


	146. You're always there like a ghost in my

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 145: You're always there like a ghost in my dreams**

Taylor awoke the following morning with a groan. She hadn't slept well at all.

'Nightmares?' Flack asked as if reading her mind.

Taylor rolled over and found him with his head propped up, watching her. 'How did you know?'

'When you can't sleep, I can't sleep,' he shrugged.

Taylor frowned, wondering when he had started knowing her so well. And how long had he been watching her sleep

'Relax,' he told her, again, as if knowing what she was thinking. 'You tossed and turned so much, you kept me awake all night.'

'Oh,' Taylor mouthed, suddenly feeling silly.

'So what were you dreaming about?' he asked her.

Taylor sighed. 'I was being chased by a ghost who was calling me Mary Sue. I don't even know who Mary Sue is, but I can tell you, I don't like her,' she admitted. The rest of the dreams she kept to herself. For some reason she couldn't share that she spent the rest of the night having the same, reoccurring dream she'd been having for weeks – of being chased down a black, endless corridor. 'It seems silly now.'

Flack leant over and kissed her forehead. 'Well, if it makes you feel any better, should you ever meet this Mary Sue character, I'll lock her up for you.'

Taylor smiled up at him, stretching her arms around his torso, and then, feeling the chill set in, shut her eyes, snuggling her head under Flack's chin.

'Not that I'm complaining, but where's the affection suddenly coming from?'

'Can't a girl snuggle with her boyfriend in a morning?'

'Nothing to do with the fact there's a couple of ghosts in the room?'

Taylor peeked an eye open and glanced up. 'I forget you can see them,' she grumbled. 'It makes it harder to ignore them,' she added, raising her head and glaring at Maddy and Michelle. 'How did you know there were two of them?'

Flack rolled his eyes and sat up, 'Morning, Maddy.' He looked back at Taylor after Maddy had smiled brightly at him. 'I can see Maddy. And you're being asked for help by someone who keeps calling you Mary Sue. I put two and two together.' He shrugged, 'there _is_ a reason I'm a detective, you know.'

---------------------------

'Morning, Kendall,' Taylor greeted the lab tech automatically, lost in thought.

'You alright, Taylor?' Kendall asked her.

'I was looking for Sheldon,' Taylor muttered. She stopped and looked thoughtfully at Kendall. 'How did you know what FanFiction was?'

Kendall shrugged. 'I'm a member. I write stories for Xena: Warrior Princess. I _love_ that show.'

Taylor cocked her head. 'Really?'

Kendall nodded. 'I got introduced to FanFiction back in,' she frowned, ''04.'

'What does OC stand for?'

Kendall grinned. 'Original character. The author will create a character and interject them into the cast.'

'Why would you do that?' Taylor asked, taking mental notes.

Kendall shrugged. 'Lots of reasons. You've just got to be careful he or she doesn't become a Mary Sue. Or…' Kendal frowned, 'there's a male version of it – a Stu, rather than a Sue, but I can't… Why are you looking at me like that?'

Taylor took a step back as she caught her expression in the glass wall opposite – she looked like she was about to pounce on Kendall. 'No reason. Sorry. But I could hug you! So, where did you say Sheldon was?'

Still looking slightly worried, Kendall pointed down the corridor. 'The morgue, the last time I checked. The autopsy results had come in.'

Taylor smiled and headed downstairs. She poked her head around the door and spotted Hawkes deep in conversation with Sid… over Michelle's open chest… and figured it was something she didn't need a close up of. Instead she headed outside to the loading bay – the heat hitting her as soon as she left the cool refuge of the morgue – and found Louie, smoking.

'You're never actually going to quit that, are you?' she smiled at him, dropping down beside him.

Louie exhaled slowly, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. 'Nope.'

'How's your class going?' she asked, leaning back against the wall.

'Fine. How's Sonny?' Louie shot back at her, looking straight ahead.

Taylor pursed her lips. 'You know, I only saw him the once and I've not heard from since.'

Louie took a final drag of his cigarette and flicked it away. 'Yet.'

Taylor frowned. 'I don't see why he'd contact me again. It's not like I can do anything for him.'

Louie finally turned his head and looked at her. 'He asked you to see him. He wouldn't have done that if he didn't think he could get something from you.'

'You're wrong, Louie,' Taylor told him, still frowning. 'There's no reason for either of us to have any contact again.'

Louie sighed and got to his feet. 'I really hope I'm wrong Taylor, but leopards don't change their spots, and Sonny won't change his contacts.'

Taylor watched him go with a frown.

---------------------------------------

'What are you doing out here?'

Hawkes' voice broke Taylor from her thoughts and she looked up to see the CSI staring down at her, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips.

Taylor smiled up at him. 'I came down to see you, but I didn't want to witness the autopsy.'

'The ghost give you something new?' Hawkes asked, sitting down beside her.

Taylor shook her head. 'Nope, but Kendall did.'

Hawkes stared at her waiting patiently for her to develop the statement further.

'An original character is someone that the author makes up. And a Mary Sue is a character who is portrayed in overly idealized ways, lacked noteworthy or realistic flaws, and primarily functioned as wish-fulfillment fantasies for their authors.'

Hawkes blinked. 'Did you learn that to heart?'

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Michelle combined the two in her story. And killed her. Only instead of a coat hanger, it was a Manolo… a shoe. A boot, actually.'

'So how does that help?'

Taylor took a deep breath and then shrugged. 'Not a clue. I was hoping you could develop the theory.'

Hawkes grinned, ready to respond but was cut short by his pager. 'That's Adam,' he told her, reading the screen. 'I guess he has something.'

He got to his feet, holding out a hand to help Taylor up, which she accepted, and the pair headed up to the lab.

'What do you have?' Hawkes asked as the two walked into the lab and found Adam and Kendall pouring over a computer.

'So, I hacked into Michelle's FanFiction-'

'Ahem,' said Kendall loudly, pretending to clear her throat.

Adam flushed. 'So, Kendall hacked into Michelle's FanFiction account.'

'And?' Taylor asked.

Adam shrugged. 'Nothing.'

Kendall pushed Adam out of the way so that the chair rolled to the other side of the room. 'I also read a lot more of her emails.' She brought up the web page. 'I skipped over the review alerts. It's the PM's that are interesting. Especially the ones from _iluvmr.big_.'

Taylor frowned. 'Hang on. The same _iluvmr.big_ who wrote _Carrie's Little Sister_.'

Kendall and Adam both stared at Taylor with raised eyebrows. 'Huh?' Adam asked.

Taylor shook her head. 'Never mind. I don't want to make your eyes bleed.'

Adam and Hawkes shared a look of confusion while Kendall grinned. 'That bad?' she asked Taylor.

Taylor nodded solemnly. 'Sadly, yes.'

'I take it by _PM_, you mean private messages – it's not some FanFiction code for something else?' Hawkes asked, thoughtfully.

Kendall nodded.

'So what's in these private messages?' Hawkes asked.

Kendall clicked on one of the highlighted ones and brought it up. 'Thankfully, it has the message conversation in it.'

Hawkes and Taylor leant in to read the message.

'She says that this _iluvmr.big_ was plagiarizing her work,' Hawkes said as he read her work.

'May I?' Taylor asked Kendall. Kendall nodded and moved aside. 'So, I spent the majority of the night on this FanFiction website, and let me tell you, it's addictive,' Taylor explained as she pulled up said website and finding Michelle's bio page. 'Michelle has been writing a _Sex and the City_ fiction under the pen name _Manolos In The City_. It's actually really good,' she added as she pulled up the page.

'You read it all?' Hawkes asked, surprised.

'Like I said, I was on this virtually all night,' Taylor nodded. 'Anyway, the story is really good up until chapter 77. Not that it goes bad, but that's where she starts talking about someone stealing her work. At which point she brings in a new character, and this character, "Helen", who eventually Carrie kills because she tries to steal both Big and her job away from her. Oh, and Carrie gets away with it.'

'That makes sense, because at first, the PM's from _iluvmr.big_ are about how wonderful Helen is,' said Adam, bringing up one of the emails.

'Yeah, but this is what I don't get. This Helen is, well,' Taylor frowned. 'Perfect. She's graduated from a top college, top of her class, she's gorgeous, all of Carrie's friends love her, her editor loves her, _Big_ loves her!' Taylor sat back, scrolling up and down the chapter page without reading it. 'I mean, judging from the emails, Helen is actually a dig at Helena in _iluvmr.big_'s story. So why would she make her perfect?'

Kendal grinned. 'I can answer that. She made her a Mary Sue.'

'But a Mary Sue is perfect?' Taylor shrugged, still not understanding.

'Exactly,' Kendall agreed. 'Well, perfect apart from her tragic past. But calling a character a Mary Sue is not a good thing. It's insulting.'

'So this Mary Sue called Helen is actually a dig at her?' Hawkes asked.

'Yup,' Kendall clarified.

'But even so,' Hawkes frowned, 'surely the there would be more motive for Michelle to kill her plagiarizer?'

Taylor shrugged. 'I'd be pissed if someone stole my work, but I wouldn't go so far as to stab her in the eye with a coat hanger.' She cocked her head and stared at the ceiling in thought. 'Actually, I wouldn't stab someone with a coat hanger if they based a character on me and turned her into a Mary Sue… I'd be a little upset. But I wouldn't kill someone.'

'Well that's reassuring to know,' Angell laughed as she joined them in the lab. 'What's a Mary Sue?'

Hawkes quickly filled Angell in on what Kendall, Adam and Taylor had put together. Angell pulled out her notebook. 'What did you say _iluvmr.big_ was called?'

'Roxanne,' Taylor responded.

Angell frowned. 'No surname?'

Kendall shrugged at her. 'The internet is full of wierdos. I don't put my full information on there.'

Jen glanced at her. 'It's not that. There's a Roxanne Helena **Anderson** who works at Nu Style Magazine where Michelle used to work.'

Taylor quickly flicked back to _iluvmr.big's_ bio page. 'It says here that she's working at a fashion magazine.'

Angell nodded. 'I'll bring her in.' She quickly turned an left.

Taylor was about to leave herself when the two ghosts reappeared.

'Mary Sue.'

Taylor forced a smile at the newly dead (adding a scowl at Maddy, who was all but drooling over Sheldon) and pulled said CSI out of the room.

'What's the matter?' Sheldon asked her.

'It's this Roxanne girl – Michelle's killer,' Taylor told the doctor. 'But it's not going to seem like it.' She sighed. 'I know that I haven't explained it well, but I know it's Roxanne.'

Sheldon nodded. 'Okay.'

-----------------------

Taylor sat staring in disbelief at the woman in the interview room. If _Sex and the City _was ever going to use _iluvmr.big_… Roxanne's… story in the show (assuming they were ever going to bring it back to the screen), it was clear who Roxanne saw as playing herself.

Five feet, probably seven inches, brown hair with blonde highlights, and what could possibly be considered "aguamarine" eyes – Roxanne, was, without a doubt, Helena.

And Taylor was pretty certain Helena was also Helen.

The more she thought about it, the mores she didn't like Mary Sues.

* * *

_My Christmas present to you...? Two chapters!_

_Your Christmas present to me...? Reviews! (:D)_

_Anyhoos, Merry Christmas... Happy Chanukah... Have a great Tuesday...? Whatever you do or don't celebrate, I hope you have a good time this week!!_


	147. Manolo, She Wrote

_Aoife - it does make sense - I do worry sometimes that the 'real' characters become a little OOC. I'm glad you're still reading, and I know what it's like to be without internet! Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year to you too!_

_CharmedMummy - I would have thought plagiaizing someone's... multiple someone's... work would be warrant enough to delete the account. Obviously not. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about! Merry Christmas - and happy new year!_

_Thoren - you're welcome, and happy new year!_

_RK9 - I started watching that show, and then stopped - because JLH bugged me. Thank goodness Tay isn't doing! (And yes, Flack is much, much hotter!) I want a puppy! I'm not allowed - too many rabbits... oh, and a no pet clause on the flat contract (oops). I do see an end. It's just not too near - so you're stuck with it until you get bored! Missing Seymour?_

_demolished-soul - I have this chapter left, but Taylor is definately hooked on FF - and I can totally see why! Revival? I'll take any suggestions! Happy new year!_

_sparkyCSI - I didn't know what I was doing with that bit, I tell you! I felt like I'd lost the plot somewhere! Yeah, you can, like, totally review! lol_

_meadow567 - that's a very good point. I keep changing my mind - on the proposal, I mean. I'm not sure! Probably sooner, because I'm itching to plan/write a wedding! Typos? What typos? That was a quality piece of FF work of art! (:P)_

_Mauradingknight - tahts'a very good point, that I hadn't actually considered (:s) Hmmm, I figure Roxanne is naive - like me (!) and would probably put her own name up... simply because I can't think of another (good) reason!_

_miss wizard of oz - That's both wierd, and cool! I would prefer that - the sooner Christmas is over, the better (I'm a total scrooge!) Thank you, and happy new year!_

**

* * *

**

What The Eyes Can't See 

**Chapter 146: _Manolo_, She Wrote**

'Who are you after today?' Peyton asked, looking up to find Taylor lurking in her doorway.

Taylor shrugged. 'No one. I was talking to Sheldon but he's interviewing a suspect at the moment. So I thought I would come down and say hello – see how things were going?'

Peyton smile and offered her a seat. 'I'm just grateful that the only place the air conditioning is working in this building is down here.'

'You're telling me,' Taylor agreed, sitting down. 'I tried to sit in the break room, but it's too cold – you can actually see your breath. It's the opposite in the corridors where it's that warm you want to be wearing as little as possible.'

'So you're only really down here for the air conditioning?' Peyton asked her with a smile.

'Rats – you caught on,' Taylor joked. 'Actually, I really did want to say hi. I think the last time I saw you, you were upset with Mac.'

Peyton sat back in her chair and put her pen down. 'He apologized,' Peyton shrugged. 'He told Stella about us over coffee the other morning.'

'That's a big step for Mac,' Taylor told her, somewhat impressed with Mac's… boldness.

'I know,' Peyton agreed. 'I think Stella wants to go for coffee one morning with me and Keanu.'

'But?'

'But what?'

Taylor shrugged. 'It just seemed like there was more to that statement, that's all.'

Peyton shook her head. 'Far from it. I'm looking forward to it, actually. I tell you what, though.'

'What?'

'I wouldn't say no to another girly day at some point.'

Taylor beamed. 'That sounds like a brilliant idea. When Lindsay's back from Montana, and Stella's out of her cast. Maybe we should take advantage of the weather and go to the beach. Catch some rays.'

'Sounds like a plan,' Peyton agreed. 'Apparently the sun isn't going to let up for at least six weeks.'

Taylor did the math in her head. 'Well, Stella should definitely be out of a cast by then.'

A knock at the door caused them both to stop and see who had interrupted them. It was Kendall.

'Can I help you?' Peyton asked politely.

'Kendall Novak, new lab rat,' Kendall smiled.

'Peyton Driscoll, coroner,' Peyton smiled back. 'What can I do for you?'

'Actually, I was after Taylor.'

Taylor's eyes widened in surprise. 'Me?'

Kendall nodded. 'We're a little swamped. Mac just brought in a lot of trace evidence from a gang shooting in Spanish Harlem.' (Taylor's eyes darted nervously around the room, expecting a dead gang member to come leaping from the walls). 'I was wondering if you would mind helping with the Michelle Adams case? I checked with Hawkes and he said you could read.'

'I can manage reading to a sixth-grade level,' Taylor agreed, deadpan.

Kendall smirked. 'It's Roxanne's work, so that's probably all you'll need.'

Taylor pulled a face and turned back to Peyton. 'I'm going to go. But I may be back sooner than you think. If I'm dead on the table because my brain imploded – it's all Sheldon's fault – and you just bore witness to that!'

Peyton laughed, shaking her head. 'Come see me soon.'

--------------------------

Sadly, when Taylor had made that statement to Peyton, she had been joking. After reading some of the files on Roxanne's seized laptop, she wasn't so sure if she was actually becoming psychic or not.

'Mary Sue.'

Taylor refused to look up from the computer. Whilst she knew Roxanne was Michelle's murder – even though she had never met her – Michelle turning up periodically to say "Mary Sue" was highly frustrating.

'Mary Sue.'

After hearing those two words being mentioned as many times in as many minutes, Taylor exploded. 'Look,' she snapped at both Maddy and Michelle. 'I am trying, alright. But you aren't giving me anything else to go on, so unless you want to sit there and give me a decent statement, and some evidence, than you can damn well shut up and wait for me to work this out!'

'Taylor,' Maddy began in horror.

'You know what, Maddy – I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear any of it. And unless you want me to plug in my mp3 player, turn up the volume, and shut my eyes, I suggest the both of you just-'

'Fine,' Maddy snapped back. 'We're going. But don't blame me if The Powers That Be are pissed.' And with that, they both disappeared.

Taylor groaned, sinking her head into her hands. She hadn't meant to snap like that. She was just tired. And hot – the computer room she was in was sweltering – and the two weren't combining well together.

It was the feel of something icy on her back that made her sit up with a scream. 'What the hell?' she demanded at Flack who was offering her something.

'It's a frozen mocha,' he explained, placing the item in front of her.

Taylor eyed him suspiciously. 'Are you following me?'

Flack shrugged. 'Technically, you're in my building. Doesn't that mean you're following me?'

Taylor glared at him as she took a large gulp. 'There is no way you just _knew_ I needed this.'

Flack nodded. 'Nope. I walked past earlier. You looked like you were about to melt. And I know you didn't get any sleep last night. Although I did tell you to go to bed – it's your own fault.'

'Damn FanFiction'**s** fault,' she muttered.

'Are you alright?' Flack asked her.

Taylor shrugged. 'Kendall and Adam are busy in the lab, Sheldon is going back over the evidence pulled from the victim's apartment, and Jen is… Jen is doing whatever detectives do when working a homicide case.'

Flack swiped at her. 'Funny. But seriously, what's the problem?'

Taylor sighed. 'I have no idea what I'm looking for.'

'Well, what are you trying to find?'

Taylor quickly filled him in. 'Which is where the problem arises,' she finished.

Flack cocked his head, looking at Taylor's notes. 'If she's plagiarized the story on FanFiction, is it possible she plagiarized her work at the magazine?'

Taylor sighed. 'It looks like it. But surely that's a motive for Michelle to kill her, not the other way around?'

Flack rose to his feet. 'Not if Michelle was about to expose her.'

Taylor's eyes widened. 'I guess I've just worked out what it is detectives do when working a homicide case.'

'I'll see you later,' Flack smiled.

Taylor sat back drinking her mocha, suddenly feeling a lot calmer.

---------------------------

By the end of the day, Hawkes was reading Roxanne her Miranda rights. Flack had been right, and as soon as Sheldon and Jen had pointed out to Roxanne that they were aware she was stealing someone else's work, she had caved instantly.

Apparently she had been annoyed that Michelle had insulted her in her FanFiction and had confronted her about it. As soon as Michelle had told her she knew what she was doing, both with her work, and with her story, the pair had started fighting. Which was when the coat hanger had been grabbed.

Taylor closed down all the windows and slipped all the notes and print outs she had made into a manila folder. The ironic thing was, as she'd been going through the notes Sheldon had made at the crime scene and Roxanne's apartment, as well as what she'd discovered on the two laptops, Michelle and Roxanne actually had a lot in common, and if it wasn't for the stealing of work, they probably could have been good friends.

Taylor sighed, feeling guiltier and guiltier. Maddy still hadn't appeared, and neither had Michelle.

The other thing was that she had realized at some point, the only friends she seemed to have anymore – (not including those she only seemed to speak to via email) worked at the Crime Lab. No wonder all she thought about was death. The other friend was dead – and she only seemed to see her if it involved death.

Maybe it was time to put a little more effort into the people she worked with. Sasha, Al, Alex…

Somehow, through the setting sun, she found herself at somewhere she hadn't been since the anniversary of Maddy's death. Wearily, she sat down.

'It's been a long time since you've been here.'

Taylor looked up over the top of Maddy's tombstone and stared at her semi-transparent friend. 'I know,' she muttered, dropping her eyes back to the black marble.

'I didn't expect to find you here. I thought you were still pissed.'

Taylor shrugged, the sad expression still on her face. 'I'm tired, Maddy.'

'Of me?'

Taylor sighed, dropping from her knees so she was sat on the dying grass the sun had spent months bleaching. 'Of this.' She indicated to the tombstones around her.

Maddy sat down next to her and stared at her grave. 'You want out?'

Taylor looked over and gently shook her head. 'I don't understand why people do it, how someone can kill… never mind with a coat hanger.' She took a deep breath and exhaled it heavily. 'It's not that. I'm honored that I can help – that these people come to me.'

'And that's why you're tired?' Maddy asked hesitantly.

Taylor shook her head again. 'I'm tired of this. Of us. You're my best friend. And all I do is tell you get lost and leave me alone, whilst you give me cryptic clues. Or rather, stand by why some char-grilled ghost tap dances in Morse Code.' Taylor scowled and glanced over at Maddy, 'and I swear to God, I draw the line at Morse Code.'

'You know, I can get Eirik to do my job,' Maddy suggested quietly.

Taylor quickly shook her head again. 'I don't want you to go. Damn it, Maddy, loads of people would kill to see their dead friends.' She stopped and laughed dryly. 'Okay, not how I wanted to say that,' she took another deep breath. 'It's just… I admit that I complain. I just don't like… I do need some alone time sometimes. Relationships are hard enough as it is. Never mind the fact that I actually have a paid job. And when you died, you said we'd still be able to talk, to hang out. I just miss that. And I'm tired of bitching at you. I just want you to be my friend now and again.'

Maddy looked over at her friend, and for the first time, _really_ wished she could touch, and give her friend a hug. 'I'm sorry, Tay,' she told her friend earnestly.

Taylor leant back onto the grass so that she was staring up at the stars. 'I'm happy to do what I do, Maddy, but I can't do it 24/7. I need some alone time. I need to be able to actually eat a meal without it coming back up before it's digested.'

'Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but since you brought it up – you look far too skinny, girl.'

Taylor shot Maddy a withering look. 'Trust me, I am well aware of the fact that none of the clothes in my closet fit me properly. I am also aware that I'm not getting any time to go shopping to buy replacement clothes so I don't look as anorexic as I think I do.'

Maddy sighed. 'I don't know if it's gonna do any good, but I'll try and get them to back off a bit.'

Taylor managed a smile. 'Any chance we can throw my friend back into that request?'

Maddy nodded. 'Yeah.'

* * *

_Well, I guess the only thing to say is - Happy New Year! And if it isn't new year for you, hey - have a good sunday/monday!_


	148. She's a fallen angel with a devilish

**WARNING: The next 3 chapters all contain spoilers from 4x03; You Only Die Once. If you don't want any spoilers, don't read until chapter 150 is posted. I will put a "Season 4 Spoiler Warning" at the very top off all the chapters with any reference!! (P.S. Not going down the "333" storyline yet – so that won't be making any appearance!)**

**

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**

_Aphina - I probably had a little too much fun with that story arc, but you know how irritating the plaguariser has been, and the mary sues!_

_RK9 - very well, I think he's amused with baby bunnies! Woot - virtual puppies! And, thank you!_

_Wolfsong98 - don't worry - I know how busy things can get! I'm just glad you're still there!_

_demolished-soul - Kendall is staying! I like her quirkiness! I'm about to write the girl's day out now, and she is certainly coming!_

_meadow567 - glad you like! And it will be, in part._

_miss wizard of oz - I don't know where the ending came from, but i figured it was about time Maddy knew how she was feeling._

_sparkyCSI - I think that ending has been a long time coming. At least the powers aren't going to be behind what's coming up!_

_Rightos, as previously mentioned, there are spoilers for 4x03; You Only Die Once - I've told you twice now - so I don't want any complaints! I will completely understand if I lose readers for a while!_

_And of course, there are many thanks to my marvelous beta, sparkyCSI!_

**

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 147: She's a fallen angel with a devilish streak**

Taylor wasn't sure exactly what Maddy had said, but something had worked. By Labor Day – two weeks later – there had been a grand total of three ghosts. She had managed to get some shopping done, now owning clothes which fit her skinny frame better and didn't make her look like a skeleton wearing something from the Teletubby's wardrobe.

After spending the morning in her office, working on a piece about internet fraud (it had actually worried, so she had invested in some help from the paper's tech support and installed an encryption program on her laptop, as well as password protecting all her documents), she headed home.

Taylor unlocked her door and slunk into her apartment, collapsing back against the door as soon as she shut it, sighing as she looked at the state of her apartment. She had spent as much time as possible at her office, trying to get as much research as she could whilst the ghosts were taking their much appreciated break.

Flack, on the other hand, had been called in repeatedly, because, as he liked to point out, crime didn't sleep. As Taylor would retort, _the heat brings out the loonies_. And, it turned out, the loonies were banding together to create a nudist colony, in the centre of Central Park.

Consequently, the pair had hardly seen each other, and the other consequence was that the apartment was looking… slightly on the messy side.

Taylor sighed again. There was only so long she could put off the inevitable. Dumping her laptop and bag on her bed, she quickly got changed into a pair of flannel running shorts, a baggy NYPD t-shirt she had 'acquired' off Flack, and pulled her hair back.

By mid-afternoon, the dishes were done, the kitchen floor had been swept and mopped, and the living room was tidy and dusted. All that needed doing was the vacuuming. She pulled the vacuum cleaner out of the closest, switched it on, and turned it back off almost instantly. Muttering curses under her breath, she undid it and pulled the bag out, dropping it in the trash can.

Taylor was under the sink, trying to locate new vacuum cleaner bags – it really was time to buy a Dyson – when the door opened, startling her. 'Marty!' she exclaimed, rubbing her head where she had smacked it. 'What are you…?' she trailed off when she saw the strawberry blonde surveying the room.

'Taylor, this is Devon,' Marty introduced the blonde, helping Taylor to her feet.

'Hi,' Taylor smiled warmly, assessing the woman who looked strangely out of place in her kitchen.

'Hello,' Devon responded. She turned to Marty. 'You didn't tell me Taylor was a _girl_.'

Marty shrugged. 'Taylor Turner? New York Daily writer? I thought you knew who she was?'

Devon turned to Taylor, this time being the one who was doing the assessing. 'Do you write for the gossip section?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Crime.'

'Oh,' Devon sighed. 'I give that section to Daddy.'

As soon as Devon's back as turned, reading both Marty and Taylor's qualification certificates, Taylor turned to Marty – her arched eyebrows clearly asking _who the hell is this woman and how the hell has she worked away into our home? _Instead, she asked, 'So, what brings you back to New York?'

'Devon's invited me to a party at the Butterfly Conservatory at the Museum of Natural History.'

Devon turned at the mention of her name and looked at Taylor. 'What are these awards for?' she asked, pointing at the items displayed on the wall.

Taylor took a deep breath – the reasons were clearly printed in bold, black ink on them. 'Some of my columns,' she responded, instead.

Devon's stare intensified making Taylor feel slightly uncomfortable. 'You know, you look familiar.'

'That's probably because my face is plastered on half the buses in the city,' Taylor retorted before she could help herself.

'You should come,' Devon told her.

Taylor glanced at Marty, noting his confused expression, before turning her own confused expression back to Devon. 'Huh?'

'To the party.'

Taylor blinked. 'What party?'

'The one at the Conservatory, silly,' Devon told her with a girly giggle. 'You do own an evening gown, don't you?'

Taylor's mind flashed instinctively to the numerous, still unworn dresses in the back of her closet. 'Yes, but-'

'Then it's settled. I'll have the car pick you up at nine. Marty, darling, are we done here? Can we go buy you a suit?'

'Of course, cupcake,' Marty complied, allowing himself to be led from the apartment.

'Remember, Tanya, nine o'clock.'

'It's Taylor,' Taylor muttered, but the door was already closed. 'What the _hell_ just happened there?' she muttered out loud.

--------------------------------

'You sure you can't pull a sickie?' Taylor asked, cradling the phone under her chin as she pulled a couple of dresses out of her closet.

'_I'm sure you can manage a party without me,´ _Flack chuckled down the phone.

'Doesn't mean I want to,' Taylor pouted, choosing the shorter of the two dresses.

'_You don't want to party, or you don't want to get to know this Devon character?'_

Taylor frowned. 'Remind me why I'm dating the damn perceptive detective?'

'_Because of my money,'_ he deadpanned.

'Damn. Was it that obvious?' Taylor grinned, draping the dress onto her bed and sitting down at her dresser. She sighed. 'Right, I need to dry my hair. But remember – if you get called out to a death of a gorgeous woman at the Conservatory-'

'_I won't worry it's you?'_ Flack finished.

'Heh, heh, heh. I'll remember that, Blue Eyes.'

Flack laughed. '_You know I love you really. Death of a gorgeous woman?' _he prompted.

'She either died of boredom, or it was suicide.'

'_Well, if you're going to kill yourself – do it in style.'_

Taylor frowned. 'I think you've been spending too much time with the loonies.'

Flack sighed. '_Tell me about it._'

'I would, but I really do have to dry my hair. I don't think Devon would appreciate me being late.' The two said their goodbyes and hung up, leaving Taylor to dry her hair. With a sideways glance at the turquoise dress, she decided to go for straight and sleek.

By nine o'clock, she was waiting impatiently in the lobby, surveying her reflection in the mirror the building super had conveniently hung there. Strappy shoes with three inch heels (which were going to kill her feet unless she got some champagne in her soon), tanned legs (yay for summer), and a short cocktail dress with a boned bustier and a draped, knee-length skirt.

At ten past nine, a large, black Lincoln Town Car Limousine pulled up. Realizing it was too late to get out of it, Taylor stepped outside into the warm night air and walked down the few steps to the sidewalk and the awaiting limo, where the driver had already come around to open the door for her. Thanking him, Taylor slid in, finding herself sitting opposite Marty and Devon.

'Sorry we're late,' Marty began, but was cut off by Devon.

'Never apologize for being late,' she told him, surprised that he could even contemplate such a thing. 'Tara, that dress is divine.'

'It's Taylor,' Taylor corrected her, forcing herself to smile.

'You know, I have a necklace that would look absolutely fabulous with that dress!' Devon leant over to the small cabinet which had a TV set into it (which was playing a Beyonce music video) and slid open the front. Inside was a small safe, which she quickly unlocked and pulled out one of the blue boxes that Taylor would recognize anywhere.

Devon handed the box over like it was book. 'This should go nicely.'

Taylor carefully prized the lid off and peeked in awe at the piece of jewelry. It was a multi-strand diamond, and what Taylor suspected to be, sapphire affair, with a diamond buckle to the right. Taylor's jaw dropped open. 'I can't wear this!' she gasped. 'It's probably worth more than my apartment.'

Devon wrinkled her nose. 'Yeah.' She shrugged. 'Daddy bought it for me, but blue doesn't suit me. You can borrow it.'

'I can't,' Taylor muttered, although she really did want to. 'Nonsense.' Devon cocked her head and looked at the stunned journalist. 'Those earrings will have to go,' she declared, diving back into the safe and pulling out another box. This one, Taylor discovered, contained chandelier-style diamond earrings.

'I'm dreaming, aren't I?' Taylor muttered, looking at Marty who just shrugged at her. It was one very surreal dream. A car with a safe, which contained more diamonds than Taylor could ever imagine owning… which had been bought for by Devon's daddy. Just how did Marty meet this woman?'

'So,' Taylor started, trying to alleviate the slight nervousness she was experiencing putting the jewelry on. 'How _did_ you two meet?'

'Devon's father is one of the main benefactors to the University,' Marty explained. 'There was an evening supper.'

_Supper?_

'I was forced to attend by the head of my department,' Marty continued, seeing Taylor's amused expression. 'I got talking to Mr. Maxford and let it slip how much I like football.'

'Daddy owns the Rams.'

Suddenly things were beginning to make sense Taylor fought herself from commenting – _remember the diamonds!_

------------------------

It was a charity benefit. And Taylor wanted to slink out of the door. Not that she didn't want to give – but rather, she knew that the kind of people that generally attended these things had far too much money than they knew what to do with it, and wanted to look like they cared.

Refusing to allow that belief to become set in stone until she had mingled with the guests at the benefit, she pushed the thought from her mind and accepted a glass of (what tasted like very expensive) champagne, and left Marty and Devon, refusing to be a spare wheel.

She found herself at a fountain, staring a butterfly that had landed on her hand holding the champagne glass.

'They finally picked a nice place to hold one of these things.'

Taylor looked up finding a pretty redhead staring at the butterfly.

'It's a peacock,' the redhead told her, nodding at the red winged butterfly on her glass. 'The markings on it are supposed to resemble eyes to scare of predators. They're native to Europe and Asia, though.'

'You like butterflies?' Taylor asked as the butterfly flew off.

The redhead nodded. 'I'm an entomologist here at the Museum.'

Taylor frowned. 'You're not here to give money?'

The redhead laughed. 'Far from it. I'm here to get it. We're actually trying to raise money for an expedition to the Amazon. There a hundreds of insects there that we have yet to identify.'

'Taylor Turner,' Taylor smiled, introducing herself.

'Dallas Galsworthy.' Dallas smiled painfully. 'I'm sorry, but I can see the director waving me over. I think I only have to be here for a few more hours and then I can escape.'

'It was nice meeting you,' Taylor nodded.

She finished her champagne and replaced it with a fresh glass from one of the waitresses who seemed slightly more preoccupied with two men fighting than doing her job. Taylor shook her head in disgust as the two men were thrown out of the building and wandered back to Marty who was looking slightly uncomfortable.

'You look beautiful, by the way,' Marty muttered.

'Thanks.' Taylor turned her head and looked up at him. 'Okay, so I'm only going to ask this once, but _Devon_?'

Marty grinned. 'She's hot. And she did let you wear her diamonds.'

'Which she pulled out of a safe in a _car_,' Taylor told him. 'Marty, I only say this because I care, but _Devon?'_

'I thought you were only going to ask it once?' Marty asked, somewhat amused.

Taylor scowled. 'Seriously though. There are smarter goldfish out there.'

Marty smirked. 'I'm not looking to sleep with a goldfish.'

'Right,' said Taylor, blinking. 'I wish I never bought it up.'

Marty glanced down at his watch. 'And speaking of that, it's time to take this one home to bed.' He smirked again. 'Excuse the pun.'

Taylor stood watching him, mouth hanging open. 'Playboy,' she muttered under her breath.

--------------------------

Flack yawned. He'd spent the whole day going over paperwork, and he was tired. Calling it a night, he grabbed Taylor's keys (she'd allowed him to borrow her car that morning) and headed home.

He smiled to himself as he drove. One thing was for certain, Taylor had a nice car. If only he could persuade her to let him get a bike. He shook his head. Now he was thinking like they were a married couple.

As he turned a corner, his eyes strayed to the sidewalk. Waiting for a cab behind all the limos, was, well, the most beautiful woman he had seen all day. With a sly grin, he pulled over, leant over and wound the window down. 'Need a ride?' he asked, smiling up at the woman.

She arched an eyebrow but leant over. 'That's the best you can do?' she laughed. 'Do you think that line's going to work?'

His grin turned into a smirk. 'You tell me?'

The dark haired woman laughed but got in. 'What will your girlfriend say about you giving lifts to strangers?'

Flack laughed. 'I prefer the term, rescuing damsels in distress.'

'I'm sure you do.'

'And what makes you think I've got a girlfriend?' he asked her, pulling away.

The woman turned, arching an eyebrow. 'The fact that pick-up line was so lame.'

'Lame it may be, but it worked,' Flack chuckled. 'So where to?'

The woman looked him up and down. 'I guess we'd best go back to mine. We don't want your girlfriend walking in.'

Flack smirked. 'No, we certainly do not.'

A short while later and the pair could barely keep their hands off each other – Flack was already devoid of his shirt - as they rode up the elevator up to the apartment. They burst into the apartment and barely two steps were taken before Flack was pushing the woman up against the wall and trying to remove her dress from her. He managed to pry his lips away from hers. 'You don't have a boyfriend do you?'

'No one important,' she responded heavily. 'No one who's going to be turning up here at any rate.'

'Good,' Flack muttered before he returned his attention to the woman's neck.

And then a bang caused the woman to freeze.

Flack stopped and looked up. 'Roommate?'

'Marty's gone back to Devon's,' Taylor told him, shaking her head.

The pair listened but hearing nothing else, resumed their antics. 'Nice necklace,' Flack managed in between sucking at Taylor's collar bone, and successfully shedding her of her dress.

Another bang interrupted them again.

'You sure Marty isn't bringing his girlfriend back here?'

Taylor frowned. 'I'd hardly call Devon his girlfriend. More like-'

'_Taylor_!' Flack hissed.

Taylor shook her head. 'I don't think so.'

Flack took a deep breath. 'Wait here.'

Taylor watched his retreating back, and then dropped to the floor to pull her dress on. Still struggling with the zipper, she hurriedly followed after Flack.

'I told you to stay where you were,' he whispered at her.

Taylor glanced down at the gun at his hand and took a step back.

At the sound of movement in Taylor's bedroom, Flack kicked the door open. Standing in the middle of the room was a man in a black jump suit.

'NYPD – don't move!' Flack barked.

Of course, he moved. He dove out the window.

Flack and Taylor ran over to the window, staring down at him parasailing to the ground. 'You've got to be kidding me,' Flack shouted in disbelief, grabbing his phone off the side. 'This is Detective Flack. I've got a 10-13, in pursuit. Suspect was last seen propelling down the outside of 213, Pine Street.'

Taylor chased after him. 'Don! Where are you going?' she asked as she followed him to the stairs.

'Call 911 – tell them you had a break in,' he shouted over his shoulder.

Taylor continued to charge down the stairs after him, thankful that somewhere between the elevator and the kitchen, she had lost her shoes. The pair burst out of the stairs, into the lobby, then out into the street in time to see the burglar hop into a _very nice_ Aston Martin and peel down the street.

Behind them, a taxi squealed to a halt. The next thing Taylor knew, Flack was holding up his badge and gun and pointing them at the cab driver. 'Hey, hey! I need to borrow your car!'

'You pay for it,' the taxi driver shouted back at Flack as he was pulled from the vehicle.

'Don!' Taylor shouted after the taxi as it sped away after the DBS. 'DON!' she frowned at the taxi as it squealed around a corner. 'How the hell do you expect to catch a _DBS _in a _taxi_?' she muttered to herself as she fingered the diamonds still adorning her neck.


	149. Oh look, a bad guy!

**- SEASON 4 SPOILER WARNING -**

**WARNING: The next 2 chapters all contain spoilers from 4x03; You Only Die Once. If you don't want any spoilers, don't read until chapter 150 is posted. I will put a "Season 4 Spoiler Warning" at the very top off all the chapters with any reference!!**

**

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**

_RK9 - I can't have gone 350,000 words without mentioning her hair color?! Hang on - it's mentioned in the very first sentence! (At least I'm not going mad! lol) I guess I don't mention it much, though. Seymour is pining - I think it might be time for him to go back home._

_demolished-soul - (:D) I'm glad that was your reaction - I thought everyone would think it was him instantly! Glad you liked. That's the worst thing about holidays - the homework! I hope you get it all done!_

_meadow567 - I saw that in my head as I was watching it and I wrote that bit within ten minutes of watching the episode. Devon's been an interesting one, as I can't work out what do to with her which doesn't involve throwing her in front of a bus!_

_Camilla - Firstly, thank you for reading it, sticking with it, and saying that about Taylor. I constantly consult with my... consultants... to make sure Taylor doesn't become a Mary Sue (although I still think she has her moments!) I haven't seen the clip, but my roommate has an Eddie Izzard boxset thing so I shall consult her - the thing just wouldn't die! lol_

_sparkyCSI - I had a worse reaction to Taylor when watching Casino Royale, in that I started getting very high pitch in my horror... in the cinema. I love that car, and one day when I'm rich - clearly, not too far in the distant future(!) I shall have one. I would love the diamonds - actually, $200,000 of rocks is a little excessive!_

_CharmedMummy - It is indeed the model of the Aston Martin - I'm the opposite. My dad is a mechanic by trade and my sundays were spent in the garage. Not that there was ever an Aston Martin in there too, but his love of cars rubbed off. I did make a point of Taylor explaining it, but it ended up in this chapter instead. Flack in a tux... Flack partly in a tux... that's all I need say (:P)_

_Aphina - I try hard! lol. I don't see either of them as the cheating kind. I loved writing these three chapters - it was fun! And I still can't work out what to do with Devon._

_Well, we still have the spoilers from 4x03 - just in case you missed it at the top of this chapter... and the last one! lol. And I of course, love my beta, sparkyCSI!_

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 148: Oh look, a bad guy!**

'Are these yours?' Stella asked with a small smile, holding the pair of strappy sandals and Flack's shirt and undershirt they had managed to lose somewhere between Taylor's car and Taylor's apartment.

Taylor glared at the items. 'I was hoping to lose more than that,' she muttered under her breath.

Taylor leant back against her dresser, pouting. Less than an hour ago, she had been perched against the same counter prepared to… well, it certain wasn't watch Stella hobble around her apartment, still in crutches, as she processed it.

'How's the leg?' she asked.

Stella stopped attacking Taylor's windows with fingerprint dust and looked over. 'You have no idea how much I want this plaster off.'

Taylor shrugged. 'You're talking to she who breaks her wrist all the time.'

Stella chuckled. She looked over at Taylor one more time and put her duster down. 'Alright, I wasn't going to ask – I was going to be polite… but that necklace… those diamonds are real.'

Taylor's hand flew to her throat. 'Over $200,000 worth of real.'

Stella's eyes almost popped out of her head. 'Did Flack sell a kidney?'

Taylor shook her head. 'They belong to Devon Maxford-'

'Marty's girlfriend?' Stella asked, surprised.

Taylor nodded slowly. 'How do you know Devon?'

'Marty called. I've just been out to Devon's place over on 72nd. Same MO. She's a strange one. When I got there, she was on the phone talking to lord knows who, all excited. And then she informed Marty they had just been invited to some exclusive party.'

Taylor nodded, unsurprised. 'She seems alright. There's just not much going on upstairs. Besides, she let me wear her diamonds – and I'm terrified of losing an earring.'

Stella smiled, picking her fingerprint duster back up. 'She seemed harmless. I'm just not sure what Marty sees in her.

Taylor gave her a bright smile. 'Himself?' she offered.

Stella smirked and continued to process Taylor's bedroom, allowing Taylor to return to her thoughts of how at that moment, she would rather have been wearing _just_ the necklace, rather than wondering where Flack had disappeared to in that taxi.

It was a while later before Flack reappeared… still without a shirt.

Stella, who had just about finished, walked over, eyebrows arched. 'You get carried away with ripping the shirt off that you ripped the big "S" off your chest too?'

Flack scowled. 'I was busy before the James Bond wannabe interrupted. Can't say I had the time to grab a shirt.'

'Seriously though,' Taylor all but whined, 'my apartment is ten stories up. You would think a break-in would be pretty tough.'

Stella sighed. 'There aren't any prints. Did you get a description of the car?'

Flack nodded. 'Yep. It was your average super smart spy car. With whatever model comes with the blue fire getaway package.'

'Ok,' Stella muttered.

'It was a DBS,' Taylor shrugged.

'A what?' Stella asked, blinking.

Taylor's mouth dropped open in mock horror. 'Only one of the most beautiful cars ever. An Aston Martin.'

Stella shrugged, whilst Flack stared at her, trying hard to hide the amazement.

'Hello, _Casino Royale._ It was that car that-'

'They destroyed and you all but cried over?' Flack asked.

Taylor punched his arm. 'I did not cry!'

Stella cleared her throat. 'So, did either one of you get a look at the thief?'

'Oh yeah,' Flack nodded. 'He was medium build, light brown hair, scar on his left cheek.'

Stella cocked her head. 'That's very specific.'

Flack shrugged. 'Guy turned the lights on when he came in.'

'He did?' Stella asked, surprised. 'What kind of thief sneaks into an apartment in the middle of the night and turns on all the lights?'

'The kind that likes to kill the mood,' Taylor muttered under her breath, sulking again, as Flack stepped away to answer his phone. She suddenly froze, spotting something behind Stella. 'You have got to be _kidding_ me!' she exclaimed angrily.

'What?' Stella asked, turning and seeing nothing.

'No, no, no, no, no!' she bellowed, storming over to Maddy and her latest ward. 'There is not a chance in hell!' she cried, readying herself to punch the new ghost.

Which was when Flack reappeared, placing his hands on her shoulders and holding her back. 'Much as I would love to see you take a swing at thin air, I know you probably shouldn't.'

'Do you have any idea who's standing there with Maddy?' Taylor hissed, glaring at the newly dead.

Flack took a breath, hands still clutching tightly to Taylor's tense shoulders. 'I want to say that it's the ghost of the body I've been called out to. But judging from the way you're reacting, I'd have to say it's more of the fact you don't like the color of the walls.'

'Well,' said Taylor, shrugging Flack off her and turning, 'we don't have to worry about finding the person who interrupted us, because he's right there!' she snapped, thrusting her arm in his direction.

Stella looked from Taylor to the "empty" space. 'And what's he telling you?'

'I don't care!' Taylor snapped. 'I'm not helping him. He can go to hell for all I care,' she looked pointedly at the two ghosts. 'Literally.'

'Now, that's not very nice,' Maddy told her, frowning.

'Nice?' Taylor seethed. 'Nice is how I should be-'

'Taylor,' Flack jumped in. 'Let's not go down that route.'

Taylor took a breath, glanced at the four people in front of her and forced a smile. 'Okay, too much information. But still. I'm not helping him. He's a bad guy.'

'You can't decide who the bad guys are in the world,' Stella and Maddy both told her, at the same time.

Taylor blinked – that was a little eerie. She scowled at the dead burglar and then threw her arms in the air with an exclamation sounding something like 'gah!'

'They killed me,' the dead wannabe James Bond told her mournfully.

Taylor turned back to Flack, grabbed his arm and pretty much began dragging him from the room. 'Come on.'

'Where are we going?' he asked her.

'To your crime scene.'

'You don't want to get changed?' Flack asked her, now slightly amused.

'I would, but my bedroom is a crime scene,' she snapped as she stormed out of the door, taking care to remember to pick up her handbag – not caring that it no longer matched the dress she was still wearing. Seconds later, she stormed back in to her apartment and grabbed the sandals Stella had placed on her side. 'I'll see you in a bit,' she told Stella.

-----------------------------------------

Taylor was still sulking when she ducked under the crime tape, following Flack. 'You supposed to be here?' Flack asked her, somewhat rhetorically.

'I could shout at you from over there if you want?' Taylor snarked at him.

Flack frowned. 'You know, you only _look_ cute when you sulk.'

Taylor ignored him and peered over Hawkes' shoulder at the dead body on the floor. 'That's my ghost,' she declared.

'Excuse me?' Hawkes asked, looking up.

Flack smiled. 'Yep. That's the guy I chased last night.'

Mac, who had been busy examining something on the ground, strode over. 'Did you see anyone else with him?'

Flack shrugged at him. 'There was one more guy, but I couldn't get close enough to get an ID. The car window had some weird tinting.'

Taylor, on the other hand, was suddenly feeling very queasy. She had been watching Hawkes, rather than Flack and Mac, and she visibly paled when he picked up a… her stomach churned.

'Mac,' Hawkes called, interrupting their conversation.

Mac walked over to Hawkes, followed by Flack. 'What have you got?'

Hawkes held the item up – Taylor was still staring it, despite her stomach's objections. 'Scalp,' he declared. 'Check this out. Looks like it could belong to our vic.'

'Oh, it does,' Taylor muttered, drying desperately to keep the bile in her stomach from appearing, like Maddy and the dead burglar (who had started nodding at Hawkes' suggestion of what the foul looking thing in his tweezers could be.) '

Mac crouched down next to the victim and pushed his closed eyes open. 'Redness in the eyes. Could be some sort of chemical irritation.'

'He's got something around his neck,' said Hawkes. He leant over and opened up the cat suit the dead body was wearing to reveal a tuxedo.

'At least he dressed for the occasion,' Flack offered.

Taylor snapped to face him, hands straight on her hips. 'Yes. Because him wearing a tuxedo makes me feel so much better about him breaking in and trying to rob us.'

'Chief Sinclair,' Mac suddenly interrupted them as he spotted the imposing black man making his way to them.

'Gentlemen,' the Chief greeted them, not before giving Taylor a _what are _you_ doing here_ look.

'Sir-' Flack began, but was quickly cut off.

'You're all over the news, Detective Flack. NYPD detective in high speed pursuit.' He turned and glared at Taylor.

'Oh, please,' Taylor muttered. 'If I was going to write an article on it, I think I would do a damn sight better than _NYPD in High Speed Pursuit._'

Sinclair glared at her, but continued without commenting. 'I'm getting calls from City Hall-'

This time it was Flack who cut him off. 'Listen, Chief,' her began.

Sinclair silenced him, pointing an accusatory finger at him. 'The NYPD has strict policies against high speed chases-'

'He was driving a _taxi_,' Taylor pointed out, making no effort to remove the sarcastic tone from her voice. 'There was hardly anything _high speed_ about it.'

Sinclair took a deep breath and turned, facing Taylor. 'You have three seconds to get behind that crime scene tape, or I am having this detective arrest you for wasting police time, tampering with evidence, and I'll even throw in accessory to whatever crime I can get these guys on,' Sinclair told her calmly as he indicated to the dead body on the floor.

'You-'

'-are so right,' Flack finished Taylor's statement before she dug the hole deeper, placed his hands on her shoulders, and steered her back to the crime scene tape. 'Go wait in the lab,' he told her, ignoring the glare she was sending to him.

-----------------------------------------

Taylor walked into the lab, still unable to remove the scowl that was now feeling plastered on her face. 'Stella, Sheldon,' she greeted the two CSI's. 'Please tell me that you've got something on him?' she asked, jamming her thumb over her shoulder at the ghost she knew was following her.

'I've got nothing. The prints didn't hit anyone in AFIS or missing persons,' Stella told her apologetically. 'Is your ghost not giving you anything useful?'

Taylor raised her eyebrows. 'Useful? It's never useful. And this afternoon's clue of choice is a set of car keys. Probably to that Aston Martin,' she added. 'Which is not useful,' she added, staring pointedly at the dead burglar.

Hawkes held up some slides. 'Maybe these can tell us who he is.'

'What are they?' Taylor asked, peering at them.

'Scales from a butterfly?' asked Stella, who was also peering at them.

Hawkes nodded, placing the slide under the microscope and projecting the image up onto a screen. 'There are at least twenty different species of butterfly on the vic's tux. And what's weird is that these species of butterfly don't group together in nature.'

Taylor nodded. 'What's weirder is that that is from the wing of a peacock butterfly,' she indicated to the screen. 'And they're only found in Europe and Asia.'

'Since when do you know your butterflies?' Stella asked, a little surprised.

Taylor smiled. 'I know that one. I also know that the only place you're going to find them in New York is at the Museum of Natural History, in its conservatory. But I also know that I could have transferred them there myself.'

Stella bit back a grin. 'You know you're starting to think like a criminalist?'

Taylor shrugged. 'I spent my life here,' she told her dryly. 'Something was going to sink in eventually.'

'However,' Hawkes added. 'With the concentration and location of the scales, our vic would have to have been there.'

Stella grinned. 'Let's go to that conservatory.'

'Taylor, are you alright?' Hawkes asked, stopping Taylor as she tried to follow Stella.

Taylor nodded slowly. 'I think it's one of those days where nothing is going to go right.'

Hawkes cocked his head and looked at her. 'Look, you wanna go for a run later, after I get of work? We keep talking about doing it, and we never do.'

Taylor nodded her head, vigorously. 'You know, I think I do. What time will you be done?'

Hawkes shrugged, looking at his watch. 'Let's call it nine.'

'I'll meet you here,' Taylor smiled. 'At least I have my running outfit in my locker still. Anyway, I think it's time I returned these jewels, because I'm not sure how much longer I can keep wearing them before I decided I don't want to part with them.'

---------------------------------------------

It hit Taylor, as she drove to the upper West Side to return Devon's diamonds, that maybe, the best option would be to help the burglar. And the quicker she did it, the sooner he would go. And then she could have another little chat with Maddy. About ethics. And how helping someone who had broken into one's apartment was not very ethical.

Devon took the jewelry off her and dumped them on her dining table. 'They looked good on you. I like them. But I prefer them in pink.' She smiled brightly. 'Daddy has promised me another set – to take my mind off the awful event that occurred here last night. I'm so glad I had Martin with me. He was so brave.'

Taylor looked over at Marty who was watching the TV, pretending not to listen. 'Really?'

Devon nodded. 'He threatened them with a baseball bat and they flew. Quite literally. Out of the window.'

'Well isn't Martin the brave one,' Taylor asked, smirking at Marty.

'Are you heading back to the lab?' Marty asked loudly, jumping to his feet. 'Devon, I'll see you later.' He grabbed Taylor and ushered her out of Devon's apartment.

'You're not staying to talk?' Taylor asked him, amused for the first time that day.

Marty glared at her. 'No.'

'Conversation not doing it for you?'

'Who said I was dating her for the conversation?'

Taylor rolled her eyes.

'And why are you still in that frock?'

'Because, _Martin_, our apartment also got broken into last night, and my bedroom, along with my closet, is a crime scene,' she sniped.

Marty looked at her over the roof of her car as she unlocked the door. 'Someone got up on the wrong side of bed.'

Taylor narrowed her eyes. 'Someone didn't go to bed last night,' she informed him, dropping into the car.

---------------------------------------

The pair of them walked through the crime lab together in silence until they spotted Mac, Flack and Danny talking. Danny turned, carrying some form of metal in an evidence bag, and headed down the corridor towards them.

'Doctor Pino!' he exclaimed with a wide grin. 'How's that new girlfriend?'

Marty arched an eyebrow at him. 'Keep walking, Messer.'

Danny stopped. 'Seriously, how'd you meet her?'

'Her dad owns the Rams,' Marty responded, ignoring the question.

'So she's got teeth?'

Marty grinned back. 'Wanna see the teeth marks?'

'EW!' Taylor exclaimed, stepping between the two and pushing them away from each other. 'Put the testosterone back in the pants and keep moving,' she told them both. 'That is far more information than I wanted to hear!'

Danny laughed, walking off.

Marty just shrugged at her.

'Don't you have something to be doing?' Taylor asked him.

'What?' he asked. 'Like interfering in a case?'

'No,' Taylor told him with a glare. 'Like buying your _girlfriend_ some flowers.'

'She's not my girlfriend,' Marty started to point out.

Taylor ushered him away. 'Move.'


	150. It's all over the front page

**SEASON 4 SPOILER WARNING -**

**WARNING: This chapter contains spoilers from 4x03; You Only Die Once. If you don't want any spoilers, don't read until chapter 150 is posted. That's the next one!****

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**

_bad2wolf2mcgee - I can understand the boycotting of OC stories, so don't worry! I am glad you decided to give this a read, though, and even happier that you like it! Your review put a smile on my face - much needed after the day I've had, so thank you!_

_CharmedMummy - I had far too much fun writing these chapters. Yuppers on the Shane Casey arc - you're not off base. I just have to throw... something else... into the mix! (:P)_

_Aphina - I really think I should give Taylor a break... Shame I'm not going to though. She is a little stressed though. That being said, she's taking it better than me. Although, if I had a Flack to come home to..._

_RK9 - He's already on the train - let me know you get him safely! lol. I guess I thought I'd mentioned it enough. But I know my character, so when I see her in my head - as I see the story, she's like a character already there. Wow, I have no idea if that made sense. Lets try again - in my head, she's as real as say, Stella, or Danny, and I do the bad thing of assuming that everyone else sees her to. Bad author!_

_demolished-soul - there is a happy ending to this chapter! (:P) I have her for another couple of chapters, but she shall be leaving. I just have to refrain from allowing my muse from pushing her in front of a bus. I hope the homework got done!_

_sparkyCSI - the muse has too much going on. I have plans for Sinclair, so he will be around, but I'm not going down the mac storyline yet! I had a lot of fun writing that - and much was written when it aired!_

_miss wizard of oz - that's true. He can see Aiden too, when she makes an appearence. I'm a sucker for irony._

_meadow567 - glad you liked! Yeah, i decided to go down the football route. Flack is more of the hockey fan, and Marty is more football... at least in my head, anyway!_

_SO, yeah, spoilers for 4x03 - although I'm sure you've worked this out by now! And there are still many thanks to sparkyCSI for finding all my mistakes!_**

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**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 149: It's all over the front page**

'Seriously. The Mach Five does not come close to the Batmobile. End of story,' Danny declared, placing the piece of metal Taylor had seen him hurry down the corridor with earlier, away.

Taylor sat down opposite him and Lindsay.

Lindsay looked shocked. 'Are you kidding me? The Mach five had submersible capabilities, _and_ a robotic homing pigeon.'

Danny nodded. 'Yeah. So did the Batmobile. Along with rocket boosters, and armor plating.'

'Excuse me,' said Taylor loudly. The two looked up. '_Hello_! KITT. He was, and is, the coolest car, ever. He could talk!'

Lindsay looked at her, slightly surprised, then shrugged. 'Mach Five, rotary saw.'

'KITT. Flame thrower.'

'The Mach Five could jump over holes.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'So could KITT. And KITT could sniff out bombs.'

'Alright then, Montana. Did the Mach Five have a field forensics kit?' Danny asked.

'The Batmobile did not have a field forensics kit,' both Taylor and Lindsay declared.

Danny nodded. 'In the Batmobile's trunk it did.'

'That explains so much,' Lindsay muttered, shaking her head.

'KITT could also-'

'Taylor,' Lindsay began, looking at her as though seeing her for the first time. 'Are you going somewhere? Only, that's a really nice dress to be wearing in the lab.'

Taylor looked down at the slightly ruffled evening dress she was still wearing. 'Room is a crime scene. I'm wearing this until nine.'

Danny laughed. 'What happens then? Does it turn back into a pumpkin?'

Taylor shot him a scathing look. 'No. It's when I'm going running with Sheldon.'

'Well you want to start now,' Danny told her, grinning as he held up his watch for her to see.

Taylor swore, leaping off the stool she had been perched on. She took two steps and then stopped, leant over, undid her shoes, and pulled them off.

'What are you doing?' Danny asked her.

'I run faster without them,' she managed to yell at him before she ran out of the lab, barefoot.

---------------------------------------

Taylor was exhausted. She and Hawkes had just run, what felt like, the perimeter of the island. It was more like a couple dozen blocks of mercifully empty streets, but Taylor knew for certain she was going to sleep well.

'You heading back to yours?' Sheldon asked her.

Taylor shook her head. 'Don's.'

Hawkes nodded. 'Come on, let's get you there.'

'And what about you?' Taylor frowned. 'You live in the opposite direction.'

'I'll be fine,' he told her.

'So will I,' Taylor objected. 'I'm perfectly capable of…' she trailed off. 'Fine.'

Hawkes smiled. 'It's only going to be for a while, anyway.'

Taylor glanced sideways at him before dodging around a couple who were enjoying an evening stroll. 'Why?'

'I'm moving next weekend.'

'You need a hand?' Taylor offered.

Hawkes smiled. 'I may take you up on that one,' he accepted as they slowed to a walk, a couple of blocks from Flack's apartment.

'Let me know. I even decorate.'

Hawkes forced a smile, thinking of Taylor's cooking skills and thinking they were probably in the same league. 'I'll bear that in mind.'

The pair said goodbye and Taylor trudged into the lift, knowing as she did, she probably should have taken the stairs, but she was too exhausted to care. She dove into the shower, dried her hair, and then crept into bed where Flack was already asleep.

--------------------------------------------

Taylor rolled over, feeling a large cold spot, rather than a warm and inviting body, and peeked her eyes open.

'Did I wake you?' Flack asked, staring at her via his reflection from where he was standing, tying his tie in the mirror.

'No,' Taylor yawned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. 'What time is it?'

'Early,' Flack told her.

'And you're up this early, because?'

'We got a lead on James Stanton.'

'And he would be?'

Flack walked over and sat down next to her on the bed. 'Our cat burglar.'

'Please tell me it involves a car?' Taylor muttered, slumping back onto the pillows.

Flack glanced up, spotting Maddy. 'Danny found a number – yes, it involves a car.'

'Good.'

Flack leant over and kissed her forehead before standing and making to leave.

'Hey, Don?'

He stopped and turned. 'What?'

'How long is my room going to be a crime scene?'

Flack smiled. 'I'm sure that if you want to go grab some clothes, that would be fine. I'll see you later. Bye, Maddy,' he added, before disappearing from the room.

Taylor sighed and sat up, catching the disapproving glare from Maddy and James. 'What?' she demanded. 'I am not turning up to the lab wearing the same dress I had to wear yesterday!'

-------------------------------------

It was a little after eight when Taylor stepped into her own apartment, already thankful for the air conditioning – it was proving to be another scorcher already. She quickly secured her hair into messy plaits, and found a plain white tank top, denim mini, and her flip flops. Pouring herself a glass of orange juice, she settled down at the table and began leafing through her mail. The majority looked like bills. Except one.

She opened it, her forehead creased into a firm scowl. 'Sassone? What do you want now?' She took a deep breath and shut her eyes, clutching tightly to the paper in her hands. _He's in jail.__ What exactly can he do? And what exactly does he want with me?_ She brought her fist to her mouth and exhaled slowly.

And then the door flinging open with a bang, caused her to leap to her feet as Marty and Devon appeared, entangled in each other. Marty pushed Devon away as he spotted Taylor staring at them like she was midst a heart attack. 'Sorry, Taylor,' he quickly apologized. 'I wasn't expecting you to be up so early.'

Taylor took a couple of breaths. The pair looked like they had just gotten in from another party, judging from Marty's new suit, and Devon's pink gown. 'Hi,' she greeted them, lamely.

'Devon's apartment is still off limits.'

'It's alright,' Taylor told them. 'I was just leaving anyway.' She thrust Sassone's letter into her pocket and made for the door.

'Taylor!' Devon called after her.

Taylor turned, hesitantly.

'It's the Mayor's benefit tonight. You're coming.'

Taylor froze. 'I can't. I, uh… work,' she finished unconvincingly. Before either could comment, she left.

-----------------------------------------

'That's pretty,' Taylor told Lindsay as she walked into the lab, spotting the various containers on the top. One had bright red flames, the other had green. 'What are you doing?'

Lindsay sighed, placing lids over the flames to extinguish them. 'Trying to work out what burns with Ethanol to create a blue flame?

'Keep working on it,' Mac told her, joining them in the lab.

And that was when all hell broke loose. The computers started beeping and flickering, the lights began flashing on and off, and Taylor's cell phone began vibrating uncontrollably. She pulled it out of her pocket – no one was ringing or texting. 'What the hell?' she gasped, flinging it on the top.

Hawkes came running in. 'IT have just called. They've alerted security to a firewall breech. Someone is illegally accessing our computer network and it's coming from in here.' He ran over to one of the computers and tried to turn it off. 'It won't shut off.'

Taylor attempted to turn her cell phone off. 'My phone won't either.' She turned it over, took the back of and pulled the battery out. It finally lay limp in her hands.

'Shut off all computers and electronics!' Mac barked. 'Shut them down now!'

Hawkes ran to the emergency power shut off box and the room fell into darkness. Except the evidence table in the middle of the room.

'Why is the table flickering?' Taylor asked.

Mac looked over at her. 'Taylor, I think maybe you should leave.'

'But…' she trailed off under Mac's glare. 'Fine.'

-------------------------------------------

If Mac hadn't had thrown her out, Taylor reasoned, she wouldn't be signing into Rikers at that moment, and allowing a guard to lead her to Sassone.

'Miss Turner,' he greeted her with a smile.

Taylor glared at him. 'Sonny,' she returned.

'I'm glad you came.'

'I'm not sure why I did,' Taylor admitted.

'I would presume that you've thought about our arrangement.'

Taylor frowned. 'What arrangement?'

'You getting me out of here.'

Taylor burst out laughing. 'There was no _arrangement_. There wasn't even anything to consider. You're where you belong and I'm not doing anything to change that.'

Sassone smiled at her. 'I am going to give you one last chance to consider your options.'

Taylor snorted. 'Consider it considered.' She put the phone down and stood. At the door, Sassone was still sitting, smiling at her. With a small shuddered, Taylor hurried out, suddenly wanting to be in the sun to shift the chill that had set in.

------------------------------------------

It was the fact Maddy and James joined her in the car on her way back into town that she headed back to the lab. She was tired of him dangling keys in her face.

She found Flack with Stella about to head into one of the observation rooms and she quickly ducked in after them.

'Afternoon, Taylor,' Stella smiled, placing her crutches on the floor as she sat on the table and stared at the person in the interview room.

'Who's that?' Taylor asked, pointing to the man. 'He looks… familiar.'

'He was running that party you attended the other night,' Flack explained. 'Rodriquez,' he added emphasizing the "quez" as "gay".

Taylor arched an eyebrow but didn't comment. 'So, is he one of our guys?'

Stella shook her head. 'He's clean. No trace of Smart Water.'

'And that means?'

'Which means he's not our guy,' said Flack.

'Does that help?'

Stella shrugged. 'We know that James Stanton was a guest at the butterfly party. Maude spotted him arriving around 9pm. We also know Devon's apartment was robbed by James around eleven.'

'He was at mine for midnight,' Taylor added.

Flack nodded. 'James and Gano got into a fight around one thirty. Which means he robbed Devon's spot, tried to get us and then went back to the shindig.'

Taylor frowned slightly. 'It was slightly more formal than a _shindig_.'

Stella chuckled. 'So we know that the gang uses the party to establish their alibi. And when we first interviewed Rodriguez, he said that he was planning the mayor's benefit. That's tonight.'

'Stanton's partner might be there,' Flack smiled.

Stella nodded. 'You got a tux?'

Taylor couldn't hold back a laugh. 'To what? Cover up your cast?'

Stella looked down and scowled at the incriminating piece of plaster. 'I hate this thing. It can come off now.' She looked up at Taylor and cocked her head, smiling.

'What?' Taylor asked her suspiciously.

------------------------------------------

'Flack. Don, Flack,' Flack nodded to the man at the door who was ticking off names.

Taylor held up the press badge around her neck. 'Taylor Turner with the New York Daily.' The pair walked into the room and Taylor glanced at Flack. 'Flack, Don' Flack? You had to, didn't you?'

Flack just grinned. 'You go look that way.'

Taylor pouted. 'Don't I even get a dance?'

'We're working,' Flack told her as he disappeared into the crowds of well dressed people.

Taylor scowled at the camera in her hands. 'At least you're getting paid for it.'

'_You know these ear pieces are on, don't you_?' Flack's voice boomed into her ear causing her to jump.

'Yes,' she replied haughtily. 'So I just point and click?'

This time it was Stella's voice in her ear. '_It's all set up, so, yeah. Just point and click._'

Stella's genius idea had involved Taylor putting on another fancy dress and pretending to take press photos. Well, she did have a spare dress – long, black and backless, and she did have the press pass – all members of the _NY Daily _were issued with them. They were trying to find Stanton's partner. And he would supposedly light up like a Broadway show.

Taylor frowned. 'Are the lights supposed to be flickering?' Taylor murmured as she took another photo.

'_It means Stanton's partner is here_,' Stella told her.

Taylor nodded, then remembering Stella couldn't see her, said, 'okay.' She turned and continued clicking away.

'Taylor?'

Taylor froze. 'Devon?'

'I thought you were working tonight?' Devon asked in an accusatory manor.

'_Press pass_,' came Flack's voice.

Taylor blinked. 'I am,' she said, holding up the press pass.

'Sack it off,' Devon demanded.

'Huh?' Taylor asked.

'Finish for the evening and come have fun.'

'I can't,' Taylor told her.

'_Tell her you'll make it up to her,'_ cam Stella's voice.

'Let's… do… something…' Taylor offered.

'_Wow, that was convincing,'_ Flack laughed.

Taylor fought to keep the glare off her face.

Devon, however, nodded. 'Later this week. You can come shopping with me.'

Taylor forced the smile again. 'Sure. It's a date.'

'Oh, I'm not gay,' Devon pointed out.

'I wasn't-'

'I'm going to find Martin.' And then she disappeared.

'_Martin?'_

'Marty,' Taylor sighed. She turned, put the smile back on her face, and continued taking pictures. And then something came up. 'Stella, I think I've got her.'

'_Her?'_

Taylor nodded. 'A waitress.'

'_Maude.'_

'_Where is she?'_ Flack

'She's walking towards the roulette.'

Flack, on the other side of the room, stared. 'It's Maude.'

Taylor darted towards her. 'Maude?'

The waitress turned. 'Can I help you?'

Taylor nodded. 'I was just admiring your jacket,' she said, buying time so Flack could get over. 'Who's the designer?'

Maude turned, saw Flack. And ran.

Flack took off after Maude whilst Taylor dashed out of the door to the streets where Stella had been waiting in her GTO. Stella who had been waiting in the passenger seat, leant over and switched the lights and sirens on as Taylor leapt into the driver's seat and allowed the car to squeal off.

'Those lights had better not leave a mark,' Taylor muttered through gritted teeth. Earlier, she had insisted that her car be used – there was no way they were going to catch up with a DBS in a departmental issued Yukon.

She squealed to a halt by Flack who had almost been run over by Maude driving the Aston Martin. They tore down the streets, Taylor managing to keep up with the DBS. "I told you a GTO would keep up," she growled under her breath as she chased after Maude.

Flack, meanwhile, was on the phone to dispatch, telling them to raise the barriers. Taylor hit the brakes, watching in horror as the brake lights on Maude's car refused to come on and she smashed into the pop up barrier. Taylor stared, mouth hanging open. Flack, on the other hand, leapt out of the car and grabbed Maude who had vacated her car and was trying to get away.

---------------------------------

Taylor was back in the crime lab, still in her dress. It was time to put some clothes in that locker. She yawned and sunk into the couch she was sitting on in the break room. Everyone was busy analyzing or questioning someone.

She picked up the paper on the table and stared at the headline. Apparently, Sinclair had a sexual harassment suit filed against him. She frowned and turned to the continuing page inside. It seemed that the information had come from an email.

Taylor put the paper down feeling slightly lightheaded. The tuxedo, when making the lights flicker, was actually downloading information. Taylor had originally thought it was going for bank details – Flack had warned her to cancel her bank cards and change her pin numbers, and she had. She didn't think it could access emails.

Not that the emails were a problem. It was other information she had stored on that laptop. She used it for work – there were names and numbers, witness, and other information she wouldn't want anyone to know how or why she had it.

Surely one of the team would have come to her if they had found anything of hers?

'They killed me.'

Taylor looked up. 'Are you still here?' she asked the dead James Bond wannabe.

'They killed me.'

'And Maude is being questioned now.'

'_They_ killed me,' James repeated. And then he jangled his keys.

'Nice dress,' said Maddy.

Taylor smiled at her. 'Thank you. Personally I preferred the one from the night before.'

'You don't have to snipe,' Maddy moaned.

'You didn't have to appear with the guy who broke into my apartment,' Taylor snapped back.

'They killed me,' James said again, jangling his keys.

'You have no idea what I want to do with those keys right now,' she glowered at him before she stalked out of the room.

Thankfully, she didn't have to go far before she walked into Flack. 'There's someone else.'

'Hello to you too.'

Taylor sighed. 'There's someone else – it's not just Maude.'

Flack nodded. 'I know. It's the guy who modified the car.'

'What?' Taylor looked up at him, blinking.

'You don't actually want me to repeat that, do you,' Flack said slowly, looking like he wanted to back away slowly before Taylor exploded.

Taylor forced a smile. 'I'm going to walk home now.'

'Taylor,' Flack began.

Taylor held a hand up, cutting him off. 'Oh, no,' she said, her smile still on her face. 'The way I'm feeling right now, if anything tried anything, their head would be rolling in seconds.'

'Taylor,' he said again, this time more forcibly.

The smile fell from her face. 'Fine. I'll wait in the break room like a good little girlfriend.'

'Taylor,' he sighed.

But Taylor had already turned and started walking back down the corridor, her heels clicking on the floor.

------------------------------------

'Yo ho ho, homey,' said Maddy, bouncing beside her on the couch. 'Why so glum?'

Taylor sighed and turned to look at her dead best friend. 'Is he done now?' she asked instead of replying, pointing a finger at the now white-clad James.

'Yeah,' he told her, awkwardly. 'I'm sorry about breaking in.'

'No you're not,' Taylor scoffed. 'If you were you wouldn't have done it in the first place.'

'Taylor,' Maddy started.

'What is it with people calling me that?' she asked rolling her eyes.

'It's your name?' Maddy offered.

Taylor just stared at the faux blonde.

'I don't have a choice in who comes to you, you know,' Maddy said, throwing her arms in the air in her defense.

'I know,' Taylor admitted. 'And I know you've still been murdered and that you're still a victim, regardless of what you did before you died,' she added, addressing James. 'But it doesn't mean I'm going to like helping, and it certainly doesn't mean I'm going to do it with a smile. And for that matter,' she continued, 'why, exactly, was I continuing to help when they _again_ knew whodunit?'

James just shrugged at her.

Taylor shut her eyes. 'I'm glad I could help,' she said, finally.

'Thank you,' he told her sincerely.

-----------------------------------------------------

It was beginning to get light by the time Flack and Taylor walked into her apartment. Flack gave her a sideways glance. 'Did I tell you how beautiful you look in that dress?'

Taylor looked back, smiling. 'I could say the same thing about the suit.'

In the end, it didn't matter what either was wearing – it was all over the bedroom floor anyway.

* * *

_End of Season 4 Spoliers... for now._


	151. And I can die when I'm done

**If you're waiting for the all clear, there are no more Season 4 spoliers!**

_meadow567 - I had sooo much fun writing those chapters, so I'm glad you liked!_

_RK9 - Hey! I hope your grandfather is alright?! Look after that penguin - I've grown rather fond of him._

_demolished-soul - It seemed such a waste of a car - my mouth was hanging open in shock too! The problem with homework, is no sooner have you finished one lot, then they've set you more (:c)_

_Aphina - lol. I still don't think of myself as funny - I just think I try too hard! I thought I would be nice to Taylor for once, let her help a little more than usual, as you're right - the sinister is lurking!_

_sparkyCSI - I want a KITT! Or a transformer. I'd settle for either for my car! lol. Realistically, I see at least another 100 chapters. Which worries me somewhat. But so long as people will continue to read, I won't be killing Taylor off!_

_Um no spoilers anymore, just lots of harmless fun, and lots of thanks so my wonderful beta!_

**

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 150: And I can die when I'm done**

Taylor glanced up from her laptop at the sound of her phone beeping. She looked around, trying to work out exactly where the beep was radiating from and finally found it on her bed.

She opened up the text message and read, laughing.

_Tay – the cast is off and my leg is SO white. Everyone's off on Saturday. Let's go to the beach so I get some color on my calves and take advantage of the weather whilst it lasts! Let me know!_

She quickly typed her affirmative response and headed straight for her drawers looking for a bikini.

By Saturday, she was jumping around excitedly and it was all Flack could do to watch her in amusement. 'You normally get _this_ excited about the beach?'

Taylor shrugged, turning on the radio to an upbeat Mika number and turned her attention back to her drawers. 'Yup.' She frowned. 'I found my bikini the other day and now I have no idea where it is!'

Flack leant down the side of the bed and pulled out the black halter neck bikini and held it up with his fingers. 'This one?'

Taylor snatched it off him. 'How did that end up down there?'

'I think you swept it off the bed last night – said it was in the way,' he chuckled.

Taylor rolled her eyes as she began to put the bikini on.

Flack leant back onto the bed, forgetting about the tie he was about to tie, and smirked. 'Maybe I should call in sick and head to the beach too.'

'Fat chance,' Taylor snorted, tying the back. 'This is a girl's day out, and you lack the anatomy to be able to come.' She pulled her shorts on and walked over to the bed, kneeling next to him and began to tie the tie for him. 'You're going to work.'

'Fine,' Flack pouted.

Taylor pouted back as she grabbed his chin so his cheeks became squished, wiggling his head side to side. 'Don't pout,' she told him, before kissing him. 'I will see you later this evening!'

By the time she had pulled up outside Peyton's –the last stop, she was itching to get on the sand.

'Remind me why it was necessary to go to the beach this early?' Peyton yawned as she slid into the front of the car.

'Because Taylor seems to think the beach will be full after nine,' Jennifer yawned from the back seat where she was sitting with her girlfriend, Brie.

Taylor glared at the detective in her rear view mirror. 'You will be thanking me in twenty minutes, believe me.'

There was a beep from behind, and Taylor's eye flicked from Jennifer to out of the back window at Kendall who was busy hammering the horn to her lime green Beetle, Stella wildly waving her arms next to her, indicating to get a move on. Taylor laughed and pulled out.

It took a little longer than twenty minutes to get to the beach, but it was already showing signs of being insanely busy. According to the weather girl on Channel 6, it was going to break the following weekend, although, Taylor had been chatting with Mel – the weather expert for the _Daily_ and she was convinced that it was just going to get heavy and humid and stay like that before the weather broke the following week.

Either way, Taylor, like half of New York City, it seemed, had the intention of making the most of the September heat wave.

'Geeze, you took your sweet time,' Stella moaned, joining her as she helped unload the bags from the trunk.

Taylor looked up, her hand hovering over the ice chest and frowned. 'I can only go as fast as the person in front of me.'

'There's no one in front of you now,' Stella told her, all but snatching the chest away from her and heading down onto the sand.

Taylor just laughed, grabbed her bag, and slammed the trunk shut, before yanking off her flip flops and tearing after the others, laughing her head off.

There was actually really only one spot big enough for the seven of them without having to trek further away from their cars – right next to a brilliant white sun parasol. Taylor jumped down, bagging a spot and was unrolling her towel when an eerily familiar voice rang out.

'Taylor Turner?'

Taylor couldn't stop her shoulders from tensing up. 'Devon?' she turned, smiling.

'I thought it was you!' the strawberry blonde exclaimed happily. 'I see great minds think alike.'

'They sure do,' Taylor responded. She glanced over at the others – they were all staring questioningly at her, except Stella, who had already met Devon. 'Um, this is Devon Maxford, Marty's…'

'Girlfriend,' Devon finished.

'Um, Devon, this is Lindsay Monroe, CSI at the crime lab; Peyton Driscoll, ME; Kendall Novak, DNA and Trace analyst; Jennifer Angell, Detective; Brianna Clark, Jennifer's girlfriend… and I think you've met Stella.' Taylor introduced the group, wondering if Devon really was turning her nose up, or if that was just her imagination. She decided to go for the latter and settled down on the towel, pulling her t-shirt and shorts off.

With the sun cream firmly applied, she settled back, allowing her body to drink up the sun like a deprived flower.

'I think I prefer my beach at the Hamptons.'

Thankfully, Taylor's eyes were closed, and hidden behind her large, pilot sunglasses for Devon to have noticed the rolling of her eyes.

'And why is that?' Brie asked.

'It's quieter,' Devon explained. 'So, Taylor, do you work at the crime lab or something?'

Taylor licked her lips and propped herself up on her elbows. 'I work for the _New York Daily_, Devon.'

'Yes,' Devon agreed as though Taylor was stupid. 'But all your friends here seem to work, well, with death. Which is icky. I'm trying to convince Martin to take up Daddy's offer of head of oncology at the Manhattan Private.'

Whilst Taylor was desperately trying to remember at what point Marty had ever hinted that he wanted to switch to cancer patients, much less, go private, it was Lindsay who spoke up.

'Marty likes the morgue. He likes the hours better.'

Devon peered at her over the top of her sunglasses. 'That's because he doesn't know any better, Lucy.'

'It's Lindsay.'

'Quite,' Devon humphed, leaning to pull out a magazine from her bag. She glanced back at Taylor. 'But you haven't explained how you know these people.'

'Marty's my flat mate,' she said, shrugging. 'And my boyfriend is a detective.'

'Do you have any other friends outside of the world of death?'

'Do you want me to get Aiden and Eirik to dump her in the Atlantic?' Maddy asked, appearing on the edge of Devon's lounger.

'No,' Taylor sighed.

'Well it's a good job you have me then,' Devon declared, clearly thinking Taylor was talking to her.

'You sure you-' Maddy started to press.

Taylor leapt up, sending sand showering over Peyton who was lying next to her. 'I'll be back,' she declared, making her way down to the sea.

'You alright?' Stella asked, jogging to catch her up.

'Check you out with the fastness,' Taylor laughed.

Stella did a little jiggle. 'I got my leg back. I get to leave the lab and see the outside world. I'm happy. But you, you seem lost in thought.'

Taylor, who had been gazing out across the ocean turned her head and smiled. 'I'm fine,' she reassured her. 'I just don't know what I make of Marty's new girlfriend, and I don't want to upset her.'

'I have no idea how Marty ended up with her,' Stella admitted.

Taylor sighed, stepping her toes into the surf, allowing the cold water to run over them.

'Look, I know it's a few weeks off, but Lindsay's birthday is at the end of October. She's going to be thirty. Any ideas?'

Taylor looked back at the woman in question who was rolling onto her stomach. A grin began to creep over her face. 'I do. Let me talk to Sasha and see where does it.'

'Where what does what?' Stella asked, puzzled at Taylor's cryptic response.

'Let me work on it,' Taylor told her, happy to have a mission.

----------------------------------------

'You have a Xena outfit?' Jennifer exclaimed loudly.

Taylor lifted her head long enough to see Jen, Brie, Kendall and Devon sitting under Devon's parasol, laughing. She yawned and stretched out a kink in her neck – at some point, she had fallen asleep.

'Yeah,' Kendall admitted. 'I don't wear it as much as I used to, but I love Xena – it's my passion.'

Which was when a little puppy went charging over to them, grabbing Lindsay's sunhat. 'Hey!' she shouted, startled and blinded by the sunlight.

Taylor burst out laughing, leaping to her feet, as she chased after the dog. She was joined by Stella, Kendall and Jen as they tried to corner it. Clearly, it thought it was a game as it darted around them.

'Come back here!' Taylor shouted. She, Kendall and Jen, went to corner it in, when its owner shouted it.

'Pip!'

The dog froze, and Taylor, Jen, and Kendall ended up swallowing a large mouthful of seawater as they went flying into the water.

Taylor sat up, shivering as Stella stood on the sidelines laughing so hard she was doubled over.

'Stella?'

Taylor pulled her glasses off as she tried to work out who was talking to Stella. 'Adam?'

Adam looked over at the three women as they pulled themselves to their feet, his face turning a crimson color in embarrassment as he realized what had happened. 'I am so sorry,' he stammered, growing even redder.

'Ross, you owe me a drink!' Kendall exclaimed, her hands on her hips.

Adam gulped, looking like a rabbit caught in headlights.

Kendall winked at Taylor. 'Now,' she demanded, grabbing Adam's hand and pulling him in the direction of one of the beach side cafés.

Taylor turned to Stella, who shrugged. And then burst out laughing at the sight of Jen and Taylor looking so wet and pathetic.

'I don't know why you're laughing,' Taylor told her. 'That was your ride.'

Stella stopped laughing and turned to face Adam and Kendall's retreating back. 'Hey, Kendall! How long are you going to be?'

Adam started to turn, Kendall jerked him forward. She raised her other hand as Adam stumbled slightly, waving to Stella, rather than shouting a reply.

'Guess you're walking,' Taylor smirked.

Stella glowered at her.

----------------------------------

'I don't think she's coming back,' Stella sighed a while later.

Taylor frowned. 'I don't think I can fit six people in my car,' she muttered.

'It's alright,' Peyton told them. 'Mac's going to meet me at the restaurant on the pier at seven, so it's only five.'

'Really?' Stella asked in surprise.

Peyton nodded. 'Yes. Why?'

Stella held her hands up in defense. 'I don't mean anything by it. It just sounds very un-Mac-like.'

Devon looked over. 'My car is here. Would anyone like a ride?'

Brie pulled her watch out from her bag and sighed. 'I have to be at work in a couple of hours.'

Jennifer stretched, arching her back. 'I suppose we should get going. We'll take you up on that offer,' she told Devon.

Devon nodded and waved her driver over, watching as he collected her things and loaded them into the car. 'Taylor, I'll call you,' she said, waving.

Taylor's smile remained frozen on her face until the car had driven off.

Lindsay sat up. 'Alright, what is Marty doing with her, and how did he meet her?'

And Taylor cracked up laughing. 'She's not that bad,' she admitted, finally. 'I think she's been spoilt by _daddy_, she just…'

'Doesn't seem like the woman Marty's going to settle down with?' Peyton offered.

'I think we're forgetting something,' said Stella.

'What?' Taylor asked.

'This Marty. He's probably only thinking about one thing.'

Taylor nodded. 'He did tell me that, actually,' she sighed. 'Although he flies back tomorrow, so I'd like to see how the long distance thing works.'

-----------------------------------------

They waited until Mac arrived before the three remaining women headed back home. Taylor dropped them off at their respective apartments and headed home.

She wandered into the living room and flopped down in front of the television, falling asleep almost instantly.

Taylor peeked her eyes open a while later, after the feeling of someone watching her had set in. 'How long have you been there?' she asked Flack, shuffling over to make room.

'A while,' he admitted. 'How was the beach?'

Taylor just smiled, nestling herself into the nook under his arm. 'Shhhh. Need energy for house hunting tomorrow,' she muttered, falling back asleep.

* * *

_So, out of curiosity, does anyone know how to rewire a boiler...? The rabbits may have eaten through the power cable... Well, at least the cooker is gas - I shall not be kept from my rabbit pie!!_


	152. You Try to Scream, but Terror takes the

_RK9 - I'm really sorry to hear that! I hope you're alright - pm me if you ever need a chat!! I'm about to do away with Devon... it'll be a few chapters off, but she's going!_

_Madison Bellows - and you call me crazy! I tried so hard not to hate Devon. I failed. I'm trying even harder not to be completely evil to her in this story. I succeeded for a while... and failed._

_demolished-soul - I see freedom to be very important to Stella, so I figured she might be a little over excited! Devon is making an exit in five chapters time!_

_sparkyCSI - they did. They also ate through my boot - whilst I was wearing them! But you know I'm going to cry my eyes out when they go. Aw hell, am I rubbing off on you - because that's dangerous!_

_TBD - I really like Peyton and Kendall, although I am slightly perplexed as to how a British character was called Peyton! Lindsay's birthday is a little way off, but I have a lot planned between then and there! It's going to involve some fluff though!_

_meadow567 - They've been house hunting in between this chapter and the last, lol! I had fun with the cheery. I've gotten a little carried away in the writing, so I'm thinking I'm posting what I've written - I'm escaping death again in a few chapters. But it's not quite as fluffy!_

_miss wizzard of oz - I'm about to 'dispose' of Devon in what I'm writing now, which is 156 - any suggestions? I feel I should reward you for review 1500!!! (:D)_

_Spoilers for 3x02 - Not What It Looks Like. And a million thanks to my wonderful beta, sparkyCSI!_

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 151: You Try to Scream but Terror Takes the Sound Before You Make It**

House hunting was proving to be very difficult. They still hadn't found anything, despite spending the entirety of Sunday looking. The only thing that was coming close was a flat in Jersey. But it was in Jersey.

Monday rolled around too quickly and Taylor awoke to the shrill ringing of a phone. 'Aren't you going to get that?' she asked Flack from under her pillow.

'It's your phone,' he pointed out.

Groaning, Taylor reached out and bought the incriminating object under the pillow to her ear. 'Y'ellow,' she croaked out.

'_Taylor, he's gone.'_

'Who's gone?' she asked as her brain started to get the cobwebs out so she could put a name to the voice.

'_Martin._'

'Devon?'

'_I need some retail therapy. The car will pick you up in an hour.'_

And the line went dead as Devon hung up. Taylor groaned, pulling the pillow tightly over her head.

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Retail therapy, to Devon, was buying jewelry. Or in Devon's case, it was staring at every necklace in each store before moving on to the next to try again.

By the eighth jewelry store, Taylor had sadly come to the conclusion that the two of them had nothing in common. Leaving Devon to discuss the clarity of the diamond in a pendant she had been examining, she found herself over at the engagement rings, looking wistfully at them

She shook her head from those thoughts, finding them settling on the ring Danny had bought Lindsay. The last time she had seen it, he'd pulled it out of his wallet when drunk. But now? Or was it meant to be for Nixon. Somehow, Taylor assumed the ring was completely wrong for the woman.

It was a scream accompanied by a yell which brought Taylor abruptly from her daydream.

'Take it easy and you get to see your wife tonight!'

Taylor turned in time to see… _Holly Golightly_? Had there not been a gun pressed up a man's chest, she would have figured her daydream had taken her to a scene from _Breakfast at Tiffany's_. Instead, she found herself rooted to the spot.

'Alright this is a robbery. Do exactly as we say and no one will get hurt!'

Taylor's eyes flicked over to the second Holly Golightly. And then to the third, who was now pointing a gun at Devon.

'Everybody, get on the ground, now! Face down, hands by your side!' The second shouted as she headed to the video cameras.

Taylor dropped to the floor watching the three women.

'Everybody stay down, do it!'

She was pretty certain that she should be keeping her eyes on the floor, but she was compelled to watch. Later, when her brain would start processing things again, she would realize she was going to murder the CSIs – she was spending too much time with them.

Taylor's attention switched to the Holly closest to her, whose hand had dropped into the I Love NY bag she had been carrying. Almost instantly, a dog one of the customer's had, whined and barked. And then every piece of glass in the room exploded.

Taylor's hands automatically flew to her head to protect herself from the glass of the engagement ring display cabinet which shattered all over her. From under her hands, she watched the Holly's pull the jewelry from the displays and thrust them in their bags.

Which was when all hell broke loose. The man who had had the gun pointed at him earlier, leapt to his feet, trying to knock the nearest Holly. Her gun went flying, but the third Holly, smacked him with hers, sending him back to the floor.

The alarm burst into life as protective gates fell down, blocking them in. As the Holly's disappeared into a back room, the alarm was momentarily blocked out by the sound of a gun firing.

Taylor flinched violently at the sound, juddering back into the case behind her. It took a moment for her to work out that the gun that went flying was the reason for the man who had stood up to the Holly's to now be spluttering blood.

Taylor scooted over, forgetting about the possibility of the Holly's returning, and placed her hands over the wound. The man stared at her, and then fell still, his eyes still fixed.

Taylor's eyes widened in horror as the strangest feeling overcame her. She couldn't see it, but she felt it: the man's spirit leaving his body. She remained frozen in place, shivering at the feeling, until the alarm was switched off.

The gate was raised a few feet and Taylor moved back from the body as a couple of officers came in, guns drawn.

'They went that way,' Devon blurted out.

'Taylor?'

Taylor looked up as Doc and Kim, the two paramedics, made their way over.

Taylor softly shook her head. 'He's dead,' she told them.

Doc frowned and led her over to one side, draping a blanket over her. 'Are you alright?' he asked her as Kim made her way to another customer.

Taylor shook her head, holding out her arms. They were covered in cuts from where the glass had cut her.

-----------------------------------------

Flack ducked under the gate. As soon as he stood upright, his eyes fell on Taylor who was having her arms bandaged. He was over in seconds. 'Taylor?'

Taylor looked up. 'I'm fine. It's just cuts from the glass.'

'You're shaking,' he muttered, as Doc gathered up his things and moved onto the next person.

Taylor pulled the blanket around her. 'Really. I'm fine.'

'What happened?'

'I was over there,' she said, pointing. Quickly she recounted everything she could remember.

Flack sighed. 'Stay here.' He headed over to the other witnesses, taking notes, like he had with Taylor, all the will shooting furtive glances in her direction.

'I'm beginning to think you're jinxed,' Devon muttered as she sat down heavily next to her. 'How exciting is this? And who is that hottie?' she asked, pointing at Flack.

Taylor continued to watch Flack. If she didn't know him as well as she did, he would assume he was going about his job like a good cop. But there a few tell tale signs that he was trying hard to keep it that way.

The muscles in his jaw were twitching ever so slightly. And he was clutching so tightly to his pen as he wrote, that any more force was going to cause it to snap. But his eyes, although dark and stormy, every time he glanced at her, only showed her two things. Concern. And love.

It hit her like a ton of bricks. She was in love.

Yes, she had, only a short time ago, been staring at rings, but it wasn't until then that she knew. She was completely besotted with the man. And suddenly, she knew it was going to be alright.

She was bought out of her trance by Devon's fingers waving in front of her face. 'You alright?' Devon asked.

Taylor turned to the concerned redhead and nodded. 'Yeah,' she told her, honestly. 'I am.'

---------------------------------------

Flack had finally finished interviewing the witness and was allowing them to filter out, as the CSIs arrived to process the scene.

Devon was trying to persuade Taylor to leave too, but she was hoping to have a moment with Flack. She realized, as Lindsay walked over to her, that that wasn't going to happen, but she sent Devon on her way anyway, promising to call her later.

'Tay?' Lindsay asked as she spotted her lingering figure.

'Hey, Lindsay,' Taylor smiled softly.

Lindsay cocked her head, staring. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing's wrong,' Taylor told her, shaking her head.

'No, a good wrong,' she said slowly. 'Something's changed in you.'

Taylor started and looked down at her reflection in a piece of broken glass. She didn't look different. Maybe a few scratches on her face.

'Vic's name is Michael Willis,' Flack's voice carried over the room. He was the assistant manager. His wife just gave birth two weeks ago. It was his second day back on the job.'

'Hey, Flack, was this gate open or closed when you arrived?' Stella asked as she ducked under it.

'It closed when the alarms went off,' said Taylor, walking over.

Flack nodded. 'First on scene had it opened once he determined the suspects were gone. Why?'

'You know,' Stella mused. 'I'm thinking, from the position of the murder weapon and the GSR on the floor, I'd say it was an accident.'

Taylor glanced down at the victim. 'It was. There was an altercation, the gun went flying, and the gate came crashing down on it.'

'The vic was killed during the commission of a robbery. That makes this felony murder.'

Stella nodded her agreement. 'Who do we like for it?'

'You tell me,' frowned Flack, handing over a still from the security camera. 'This was the last shot before they did a number on the surveillance cams.'

'Three Holly Golightly's,' said Taylor. 'But I think one was called Beth.'

Lindsay looked over Stella's shoulder at the photograph. '_Breakfast at Tiffany's?_ But I don't get it. I don't remember Holly Golightly ever robbing a jewelry store.'

'Right,' Stella agreed. 'It was a love story.'

Flack glanced down at his phone. 'I'm running the name Beth along with the description and MO, I'm waiting to see what comes back on that,' he told them.

Stella frowned and surveyed the area. 'Check out with the FBI as well. This might be something they have come across before.'

'Yes,' Flack agreed as Lindsay met Danny and the pair began to process one of the display cabinets. 'I've also put the word out on the street for a diamond trade theft alert. If the thieves try to fence the merchandise, we'll know soon enough.'

Stella sighed and headed over to Lindsay and Danny, leaving Taylor with Flack. 'Do me a favor?' he asked her gently.

'What?' she asked him, staring up into his eyes. The concern was there again.

'Go home. Get some sleep.'

'You're assuming I'm not being haunted by Michael?'

Flack gave her a wry smile. 'You'd have mentioned it by now. Leave playing detective to me.'

'I don't know what you mean?' she muttered.

'_There was an altercation_?' he repeated her words.

Taylor shrugged. 'You were bound to rub off on me, eventually.'

Flack sighed. 'Please. Just go home.'

Taylor slowly nodded.

---------------------------------------

She was sat on the windowsill of her living, one foot in the room, the other hanging out over the fire escape, watching the cars drive by like beetles, Garth Brooks playing softly in the background.

It had taken three hours of sitting there, staring at the traffic, for her to realize what the problem was, what the unknown feeling that had been gnawing away at her for the past few weeks. It was fear.

There had been weeks of nights plagued with nightmares. Whilst they were less frequent when she shared her bed with Flack, they could still appear. True, he'd told her he couldn't sleep when she couldn't, but recently, he'd been so tired that he'd fall asleep straight away. And it was only if she tossed and turned that she had the nightmares, so she'd disappear into Marty's room and sleep the nightmares out in there.

There was something coming. Something looming overhead. She wasn't sure what. But it was there, settling deep into her spirit.

She sighed and brought one of her knees up, leaning her head onto it.

She was convinced she was being paranoid. She spent half her days helping ghosts chase after bad guys. The other half was spent researching and writing about the other evils of the city.

And the feeling that she experienced at the moment Michael Willis had died? Well, if it wasn't for the warm feelings Flack conjured up, she would have a chill set deep into her bones.

She inhaled deeply before exhaling though her nose. It was time to put her mind to more constructive thoughts. Ready to nip out and purchase a paper to investigate recent apartment rentals, she slipped of the windowsill and froze.

In the center of her room was a pretty blonde with a gunshot wound to her chest, accompanied by Maddy.

'You have to help them,' the blonde pleaded, tears in her eyes. 'They don't know how much trouble they're in.'

Taylor glanced at the ghost then at Maddy, before returning her gaze to the blonde. She nodded firmly, switching the stereo off.


	153. Is it any wonder I'm tired?

_Volonta forte - Girl, where you been? I've been close to sending out the search parites! I hadn't forgotten - some things have evolved since then. And you're right! It is endless! (:s)_

_meadow567 - I keep switching it up to keep you on your toes! Plus, I have to make it fit with what I write! lol_

_sparkyCSI - I'm off work tomorrow night, well, so far, so hopfully, I will get some chapters to you. There's one where I do everything I ever wanted to do to Devon! I really am sorry if _I'm_ rubbing off!_

_demolished-soul - she is! It was about time, too! Although she just hadn't realised it! I hope you're day wasn't that bad! But I'm glad I made it better! lol_

_Aphina - good - I like the element of surprise. I want to push her out of a window! lol. _

_miss wizard of oz - ok, I think I can manage that - give me a few chapters!!_

_Mauraudingknight - I'm glad you enjoyed! I had to go back and read it over. I have lots planned (:s)_

_Madison Bellows - Oh, I have more planned for Devon. It amuses me how much everyone dislikes the girl! lol_

_Spoilers... still on whichever it was in the last chapter - I forget... 3x03/4, maybe. I dunno. But there are still big thanks to sparkyCSI for betaing!_

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 152: Is it any wonder I'm tired? Is it any wonder I don't know what's right?**

Somehow, it was all fitting into place. She wasn't sure if it was her conviction, her determination to push all else from her mind. It may have been that she had been spending so long with the CSIs that they actually were beginning to rub off. Or that the ghost was being exceptionally helpful. Or even a combination of all three.

But she was standing in the middle of the ghost's apartment, who according to the unopened mail which was scattered over the ransacked apartment's floor, was called Natalie Letterman, in her bedroom, staring down at her lifeless body.

She let out a squeal as Flack came bounding in, complete with vest and gun drawn, accompanied by Stella and Sheldon.

'Taylor? What the hell are you doing in here?' he questioned.

Taylor pointed at the body. 'Her ghost showed up.'

Flack surveyed the mess. 'And you didn't think to call this in?'

Taylor held up her hand which was clutching tightly to her cell phone. 'I was going to.'

'BEFORE YOU ENTERED THE ROOM!' he bellowed.

Taylor jumped, wincing. There was no venom in his voice. But he was angry all the same. Nevertheless, she brought herself to her full height and straightened her shoulders. 'Natalie asked me for help. I did. Her clues led me here. Now, I may not have sworn an oath to serve and protect, but it's what I do, only without the badge.'

Flack sighed, shaking his head and headed over to the victim's upturned dresser.

Stella and Hawkes, who had been watching the conversation much akin to one who was watching a tennis match, glanced at each other, eyebrows arched.

'She's just a kid,' said Stella, clearing her throat.

Hawkes crouched down by Natalie's body. 'She's got a muzzle stamp on the wound. It suggests close contact.' Carefully, he lifted her body to look at her back. 'She was executed.' Stella leant and snapped a few photos. 'It's a through and through. Bullet's lodged in the mattress.' Slowly, he extracted the bullet and examined it. '41 millimeter. Armor plated jacket. Not a weapon you see every day.'

'And not the weapon our crew used for the take down,' Flack added from the window.

'Maybe they're carrying spares?' Hawkes suggested.

Stella, who had since moved on to take photographs of the mess pointed to a spot on the floor under a chair she was holding up. 'I found blood under the debris. Indicates that the place was ransacked after Natalie was murdered.'

'Which means our shooter was looking for something?' Taylor asked, more to the ghost who had appeared, staring mournfully at her body, than to the CSIs.

'Yeah, the stolen merchandise,' Hawkes offered.

Flack looked at the body, walking back over. 'Double cross?'

'But if her partners whacked her for the jewels, why toss the place?' Stella asked.

Flack shrugged. 'Maybe they had a falling out and Natalie hid it from them.'

Taylor shook her head, mimicking the ghost of Natalie. 'No,' she said softly.

'Care to elaborate?' Hawkes asked.

Taylor looked pointedly at Natalie. Who held out a diamond. Taylor frowned, raking a hand through her hair. 'It's about the diamonds?'

'We get that,' sighed Stella, as she moved towards the bathroom.

'No,' said Taylor, slowly. 'It's about the actual diamond.'

Natalie nodded. 'You have to help them. They don't know how much trouble they're in.'

Taylor nodded. 'I'm going to try.'

'She's in the room, isn't she?' Hawkes suddenly realized.

'Yeah,' said Taylor softly.

-----------------------------------------

Taylor had left the CSIs to head back the lab whilst she took a walk to clear her head. Her mind was still buzzing and the ghost had merely left her with the clue of a diamond.

Somehow, she had made her way down to the docks, staring out across the barely moving water – it was so hot that even the water didn't want to move. She sighed. She was being silly, and she knew it, but she just couldn't shake the feeling.

It didn't help that she felt like she was being watched all the time, either. The ghosts had started to make her paranoid.

'You have to help them. They're in trouble.'

Speaking of.

Taylor frowned. 'Hang on. That's not what you said earlier.'

'You have to help them!' Natalie cried, desperately.

'How can I help you?' Taylor asked, suddenly going red as she realized a passing business man was giving her a very strange look. 'Diamonds mean nothing,' she added, turning to face the water.

'They're in trouble,' Natalie added.

Taylor glanced at her from the corner of her eyes, and then slowly turned her head. The ghost was pointing at something… or someone… she realized as she recognized a girl from a photograph she had seen in Natalie's apartment.

'Is that Beth?' Taylor asked, wracking her brain for her name.

Natalie nodded.

Taylor took a breath and ran over. 'Excuse me!'

Beth barely glanced in her direction.

'Beth?'

Beth stopped, whirling, puzzled as to who the woman was.

'My name's Taylor. I'm a friend of Natalie's.'

Beth's eyes filled with tears. 'I can't stop,' she gasped as she turned to walk.

Taylor took a breath and continued after her. 'Look, what you're about to do is dangerous.'

Beth whirled around so suddenly, that Taylor went flying into her. 'What do you know?' Beth asked, her eyes now sparkling dangerously.

'I know you and Natalie held up the jewelry store I was in yesterday,' she told her, pointing at the diamonds she could see glinting up at her in Beth's bag.

Beth's eye's narrowed. 'Are you with them?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Natalie sent me.'

'Natalie's dead,' Beth snapped, trying to suppress the sob.

'I know,' Taylor said softly. 'And she doesn't want you to end up the same way.'

Beth stared at her, and then it was as if something snapped. 'Leave me alone!' she shouted before walking hurriedly off.

Taylor grunted in frustration and hurried after her. 'Look, I'm not going to pretend to know exactly what is going on, but I do know that you're in danger and Natalie is worried about you.'

'Natalie is dead!' Beth shouted at her. 'Just leave me alone!'

Taylor grabbed her arm. 'No. Look, you need to come with me. My friends, they can help.'

'What? Who are you?'

'I told you, I know Natalie.'

Beth wrenched her hand free. 'And I keep telling you, Natalie is dead.'

'I _know_,' Taylor repeated. 'And she doesn't want you to end up the same way.'

'Which hospital have you escaped from?' Beth muttered to herself.

'That's right!' Taylor exclaimed. 'I'm trying to help you – I must be psychotic.'

'What the hell is going on?' Stella demanded as she, Danny, Flack and Lindsay seemingly appeared from nowhere.

'I am so glad to see you guys,' Taylor muttered.

'What are you doing?' Flack asked.

'Natalie,' Taylor shrugged as though the one word would explain it all.

'I'm so happy you saved me from this lunatic,' Beth gasped. 'But if you'll excuse me I'm – Hey!' she cried as Danny grabbed the bag she was holding.

He opened it up and grinned, whistling. 'Christmas has come early,' he said, holding it open for Flack to see inside.

'Nice. Looks like it's all there.'

Stella grabbed Beth's arm. 'What's your name?'

'Beth. Beth Larson. Please,' Beth begged, trying to wriggle free.

'Are you working with Mosi Gedhi?' Stella demanded.

'Who?' Beth asked as the tears began to fall. She shook her head. 'No! Please, they already killed Natalie.'

'Who pulled the trigger?' Stella demanded.

'Whose ever diamonds we stole,' Beth sobbed. 'I don't know his name. But he knows us. He followed us after the robbery. We all split. But someone called me.'

Flack frowned. 'How did he know how to find you?'

'He said he had a partner waiting outside the store for him,' Beth gasped. 'He must have followed us. He thought Natalie had taken everything home with her. She didn't. I did.'

'And when he found out Natalie didn't have his diamonds, he killed her. But not before he got her to turn over her partners,' Danny finished.

Beth was full out crying now. 'This wasn't supposed to happen. This was a onetime deal. We figured that between us, what we knew, engineering, physics, film, we could pull it off.'

'That's putting your college education to practical use,' Flack muttered dryly.

Beth stared pleadingly at him. 'None of us came from wealthy backgrounds. It was a way of putting us though college, keeping out apartments. No one was supposed to get hurt. God, please, you have to let me go,' she finished, beginning to struggle again.

'You're not going anywhere,' Flack informed her. 'You're under arrest.'

'If I don't deliver they're going to kill Dana,' Beth cried, turning hysterical. 'The man on the phone said not to involve the cops, okay. I have to deliver them at five. That's ten minutes away!'

'You have to help them. They're in trouble,' Natalie begged, appearing with Maddy who was looking concerned.

Taylor stared at Stella who was arguing with Flack.

'He has a hostage. We can't just move in,' Flack was saying.

'If we don't let her do the drop, she's dead,' Stella told him.

'I know, Stell, but I can't get an undercover here in under half an hour,' Flack said.

'Please,' Natalie asked, grabbing Taylor's arm.

Taylor stared at it, shivering at the strange feeling it was causing, and swallowed. 'I'll do it.'

'Like _hell_ you will!' Flack snapped.

'We have to do something,' Taylor snapped back. 'And it's not like you haven't had me undercover before.'

'Wandering around a party in a posh frock is hardly the same as walking into a hostage situation,' Flack bellowed back at her.

'I'll do it!' Lindsay cried. 'I'm the same size, they were wearing wigs. They'll never know.'

'Montana!' Danny exclaimed.

'Look if it's between me and Taylor, aren't we best going for the one who's insured to do it?'

----------------------------------

Secretly, Taylor was insanely thankful that she didn't have to go in. She'd said it at the spur of the moment, and the only reason she was objecting so much was because Flack was being so stubborn.

She was pacing up and down, alongside a police van the others were sat in listening to Lindsay who was wearing a wire.

The next thing she knew, the three of them came flying out of the van and into the building.

'What the-?' Taylor was cut off by a loud bang. 'What's going on?' she demanded to the various uniforms, but no one was paying any attention to her.

It was a full twenty minutes later before Taylor was able to breathe properly, when two men were escorted out in handcuffs by Flack and a uniform. Seconds later, a medic was carrying out the third girl from the picture, followed closely by Stella. Taking up the rear were Lindsay and Danny, the former of which was shaking violently.

She was about to run over and check on her friend when Flack appeared. 'What the hell happened?' she demanded.

'She was made,' Flack explained. 'It was a flash bomb.'

Taylor exhaled slowly, and then she turned and punched Flack. 'You jerk!'

'Hey!' Flack objected. 'I was not about to let you go into that building, Damnit.'

'No,' Taylor told him. 'You're a jerk for scaring me. You dash into that building and the next thing I know there's a bang and all I can get from these guys,' she pointed at the various uniforms, 'is that the bomb went off. Damnit, Flack! I swear my heart stopped beating.'

Flack sighed and wrapped his arms around her. 'You shouldn't worry.'

'I love you,' she snapped. 'I can't help it.'

Flack stepped back and looked down at her. 'What?'

'I can't help it,' Taylor snapped at him.

'No, before that?'

Taylor frowned and then looked sheepishly at the floor. 'I love you,' she muttered.

Flack grinned and gently grabbed her face, bringing it upwards. 'I love you, too.'

---------------------------------------------------------

Danny rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if, for the umpteenth time since he had set out to her place, if he was making the wrong decision.

She wanted slow. He respected that. She wanted to keep it between themselves. He could do that. Hell, it had taken everything not to declare his love for her in the middle of Beth's smoke filled flat.

But all he had done, since he'd dropped her off, was walk around thinking about how much he just wanted to hold her. His feet had taken a mind of their own and somehow, he had found himself outside her apartment door.

And then his hand seemed to follow suit of his feet, and before he realized what he was doing, he was knocking – hammering – on her door.

The door opened a crack, catching on the chain. 'Danny?' The door shut and he heard the chain being removed before it was opened again, this time to be greeted by Lindsay in pale blue flannel pajamas covered in cows.

'Christ, Montana. Don't you know we're in the middle of a heat wave?' _Brilliant. Just insult her._ His eyes went up to meet her eyes, only to find they were red rimmed, tear streaks marking her face.

'I can't get warm,' she whispered softly, trembling on the spot.

'Linds,' he whispered softly, enveloping her in his arms. She whimpered and then she was crying. 'Hey,' he muttered, gently stroking her hair. 'I'm not going anywhere.'


	154. It's the fear of knowing what this world

_Aoife - He had, she hadn't. I wouldn't have - she's not a cop, not matter what she thinks, sometimes! There is a plan for a marriage, but, honestly, in the grand scheme of things, even though it's written, it's chapters off! But there will be a happy ending - I just seem to have a slow moving timeline._

_Madison Bellows - I just love Flack in general! lol. It makes me blush to hear that - although I can asure you, it's often painful to integrate the two!_

_RK9 - I am really sorry to hear that! You take as much time as you need - this is only a story! It's not much, but I am thinking of you!_

_meadow567 - I was about time, eh? But I still like to hear it - and when you don't! And I am also very happy to hear you still like!_

_Aphina - Ah, but is she being watched, or is it when the ghosts turm up (:P) I am going to play catch up again - I'm jealous of the time you have to write/post!_

_miss wizard of oz - I am writing the chapters now (156 ) and having too much fun! Do I need to tell you, or Danny, to behave?_

_TVjunkie323 - Aw, thank you! The story has just grown from a crazy idea, to a never-ending crazy idea! But I'm glad you like, and I hope I continue to satisfy!_

_sparkyCSI - I think there may be fighting for him! lol. Let's see, you know about the interview - and I really need to learn not to sit on the kitchen floor with the rabbits!_

_demolished-soul - Well, I hope you enjoyed your dinner! I think this story has become a little too real for me, which worries me, because I'm starting to get confused when I watch TV! _

_Let's see... spoilers... actually, there aren't any! Just a new OC, and a pig! Confused?_

_But there are still thanks to my wonderful beta!_

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 153: It's the fear of knowing what this world is about**

Taylor yawned. She had just said goodbye to the latest ghost she had helped – any part of a pig was now wiped off her menu. The previous day had been spent helping Hawkes move into his new apartment with Danny, and then a lot of time had been spent in the lab. All night, then all morning, and half the afternoon too.

Needless to say, she was exhausted. So when she heard her name paged over the PA system and asked to go to reception, she thought she was hallucinating.

'Since when do you get pages here?' Stella asked as she left the trace lab.

Taylor frowned. 'You mean you heard that?'

'Yeah,' Stella laughed at her.

'That's the first time,' Taylor said, still frowning. She made her way to the reception, accompanied by Stella, and addressed the receptionist, 'you paged?'

'There's something here which belongs to you,' Trudy told her, pointing over to the waiting area.

Taylor turned and only spotting a small child and a pig, started to turn back to Trudy. Only she did a double take when she realized that the girl was a spitting image of herself when she had been seven, only the child had blue eyes.

The sleep deprivation set in, and for a moment she had to convince herself that she hadn't actually given birth to neither a seven year old, nor seven years ago.

Instead she looked at Stella who was staring in surprise at the child, clearly thinking what Taylor had been. 'You see her, don't you?'

Stella turned her attention to the bewildered journalist. 'Yeah.'

Taylor turned back to Trudy. 'Where did she come from?'

Trudy just shrugged.

Taylor inhaled deeply and walked over to the child, sitting down next to her. 'Hello'

The child, whose feet only just touched the floor from the chair she was sitting on, hugged her piglet tighter.

Taylor frowned. 'So, I'm Taylor.'

The child continued to stare at the floor miserably in front of her. Taylor looked up, sending a look of hopelessness to Stella.

Stella headed over instantly, crouching down in front of the child, a bright smile on her face. The child looked up and stared at her. 'She's lovely,' she told the girl. 'Can I stroke her?'

'He's a boy,' the girl said quietly. 'He's called Wilbur.'

'Wilbur?' Stella repeated softly as her hand slowly went to pet the piglet's head. 'You know, my favorite story when I was a little girl was about a pig called Wilbur. It was about a pig and his friend who was a spider.'

The girl nodded solemnly at Stella. '_Charlotte's Web_ is my favorite book. I've read it lots of times.'

As the pig gave a contented grunt at Stella's petting, Stella continued to smile at the child. 'My name is Stella. What's your name?'

'Cordelia.'

'And where's your mommy?' Stella asked as Taylor inhaled sharply.

Cordelia shrugged.

'She's gone to Columbia with her drug dealing boyfriend,' a nasally voice carried loudly across the room. 'She decided a child was conducive to her new lifestyle.'

Taylor, horrified, jumped to her feet, ignoring the fact she had startled the pig which began wriggling, and dragged the woman to one side.

'Take your hands off me!' the elderly woman cried.

'Are you telling me that Megan has just abandoned her daughter?' Taylor hissed incredulously, sneaking a glance at the child in question. Thankfully, she was being occupied by Stella who kept sending furtive looks her way.

'Yes. And I am not looking after that child any longer. I've retired and she's interfering with my bridge tournaments.'

Taylor gaped at her. 'You can't just dump her on me!'

Gladys sniffed. 'I've spoken to my lawyer and it turns out your brother listed you as her next of kin.'

Taylor raked a hand through her hair. 'You can't just dump her on me!' she repeated. 'What the hell do I know about looking after a child?'

'Learn,' Gladys snapped. 'Or dump her in a home. Either way she's not coming back with me. She's your problem.'

'You can't-'

'She's allergic to cats. Her school, medical and insurance information is in here, along with her birth certificate, passport, and savings account. Everything else, you'll have to damn well figure it out yourself.' She sniffed again, handed her a folder and looked at her watch. 'If you'll excuse me, I have a plane to catch.' Gladys turned sharply on her heel, leaving Taylor staring after her.

Taylor shut her eyes and rubbed her temples, before running her hands through her hair. She walked over to Stella who stood as she approached.

'What on earth is going on?' Stella asked her in hushed tones

Taylor slumped down into one of the chairs opposite Cordelia feeling very lightheaded. 'I have no idea,' she responded in a dazed manner.

'Who is she?' Stella asked, looking over at the child who was resuming her stance of staring forlornly at the floor.

'She's my niece,' Taylor frowned. 'Her father, my brother, is doing time. I visited him back in March and he told me he was letting me have the car so he could pay child support. It was the first I'd heard he had one.'

'And her mother?'

'Well, if Cordelia's grandmother can be believed, she's in Columbia.' Taylor ran her hands down her face. 'I can't look after a child, Stell. Look at me; I can't even look after myself.'

Stella placed a hand gently on her leg. 'I don't think you give yourself enough credit.'

Taylor shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. 'I need to talk to my brother. Would you?'

Stella nodded, kindly. 'We'll be in my office, away from everything.'

Taylor nodded, still feeling stunned. Then she took a deep breath and walked to the lift, and headed up to the roof, feeling the need to be away from the prying eyes of the lab's inhabitants.

On the roof, she pulled out her phone and dialed 411 asking to be put through to the warden and then demanding and pleading to speak to her brother.

She was on hold for a while before he appeared.

'_Taylor? What's wrong?' _he demanded.

'Cordelia's here.'

'_What happened?_' he asked as the panic in his voice increased.

'She's here. In New York,' Taylor hurriedly told him.

'_Why?'_

'Because your screwed-up ex, Megan, has a new boyfriend who she's moved to _Columbia_ to be with, but she left Cordelia with her mother. And Gladys took a plane to tell me I'm officially her next of kin, and bye.' She took a breath. 'Chris, I can't look after her. I don't know the first thing about changing diapers!'

'_She's seven,' _Chris snapped. '_She's past __diapers__.'_

'Point proven!' Taylor retorted, her voice growing increasingly high pitched.

'_Taylor, I am not going to allow my daughter to go in a children's home! Not when she has a perfectly good aunt. Just let me talk to my lawyers. Please?'_ he was all but begging at this point.

Taylor rubbed her hand over her mouth and sighed. 'Fine,' she accepted. She rung off and slunk to floor, leaning back against the wall.

'Tay?' Flack's voice carried softly over the roof.

'Hi'ya.'

Flack came and sat down on the roof next to her. 'Stella called me.'

Taylor nodded. 'I figured.' She sighed. 'Cordelia, my niece, is going to be staying with us for a while.'

'How come?' Flack asked her gently.

'Sounds like her mother chose her boyfriend over her, and her grandmother chose retirement and bridge. And obviously, Chris is still in prison. Which leaves me.'

'And me,' Flack added softly.

Taylor looked up at him. 'You mean that?'

Flack nodded.

Taylor smiled, finding a small niche of relief and rested her head on his shoulder. 'God, I love you.'

'Pardon?' Flack asked, slightly surprised.

'I said I-' she sat up suddenly. 'Oh hell, I'm going to have to child proof the apartment.'

'How old is she?' Flack asked, now amused.

'Seven!' Taylor exclaimed. 'I'll need to buy cupboard locks, and socket covers, and-'

'I take it she's seven _years_, not seven months?'

Taylor nodded. 'I don't even know if my cleaning products are safe.'

Flack laughed. 'I think we can trust her not to go on a bleach drinking bender. _Seven_, Taylor. Didn't you ever babysit?'

'No,' Taylor declared. 'I'm useless with children.'

Flack laughed again. 'You were fine with Ellie and Jesse,' he pointed out.

'That's because I knew I could give them back.'

'Look,' said Flack, checking the time. 'I have an hour left. Let me see the loo and talk him into letting me finish early. We'll head back to yours, I'll rustle up something for us to eat, and then I bet that more than anything, Cordelia is just going to want to get some sleep.'

Taylor nodded. 'I guess I really should introduce myself,' she muttered ass Flack helped her to her feet.

-----------------------------------------

Taylor chewed on her lip, staring at Cordelia, Wilbur and Stella. Wilbur was on Cordelia's knee, and Cordelia was on Stella's as the stared at something on the computer screen.

'Hey,' said Taylor softly, as Stella looked up.

'We were looking at pigs,' Stella explained. 'They're Cordelia's favorite animal.'

'Hi Cordelia,' Taylor smiled. 'I'm your Auntie Taylor.'

'Hello,' said Cordelia, politely.

'If it's alright, I think you're going to spend a few days with me?'

Cordelia nodded and jumped down off Stella, where she settled Wilbur on the floor, clutching tightly to his bright blue leash. She hoisted her backpack onto her back and walked over to Taylor.

'Thank you,' Taylor said to Stella.

'Everything sorted?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Not yet.

'Give me a call if you need anything,' Stella told her. 'Bye, Cordelia,' she added.

'Bye, Stella.'

------------------------------------------------

'So you're Cordelia?' Flack beamed as he crouched down in front of the child. 'My name is Don.'

'Hello,' Cordelia responded.

'I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Are you hungry?'

Cordelia nodded.

'Is there anything in particular you want to eat?'

'Chicken nuggets,' she suggested hopefully.

Flack smiled. 'I think we can manage that. What about Wilbur?'

'He likes chicken.'

Taylor frowned. She knew next to nothing about pigs, but she was certain they were supposed to have some special food. 'Don, will you watch Cordelia whilst I find her somewhere to sleep?'

'Of course. Cordy, do you want to help?' Cordelia nodded, smiling.

Taylor sighed and headed into Marty's room. Five minutes later, she had hung up her phone after receiving permission for Cordelia to use his bed, and was pulling his sheets off and putting fresh ones on.


	155. It's all part of a grander plan

_Volonta forte - I think it was my turn to have the search party sent out! Sorry for not replying to your email yet - I'm going to do that shortly - the rabbits ate my laptop! I hope I can get you smiling again!_

_Arienda Lockhart - Did you sit there and read the whole thing at once? I bet it's taken you ages! Yes, there were similarities (that was me going though John Cusack phase) Either way, I hope you're still enjoying!_

_Aphina - I honestly don't know how I'd react - but I have a feeling the child would need therapy... and more so, so would I! But I wouldn't mind a Wilbur! lol_

_demolished-soul - And the CSI fix wil soon be able to continue because the writer's strike is over! Yay! I hadn't thought of that - how soon the gap is. You're right! lol_

_RK9 - Hey, I'm sorry, I've just read your review - I hope everything is feeling a little better for you now! If you're feeling the need for a chat or anything, just drop me a pm! Taylor is a panicker - she will work it out eventually!_

_sparkyCSI - Maybe it's my own little fantasy world, but I do see Flack as a good dad. I'm sure he will be when he actually has his own child too. So how are things going for you at workthese days? Last I heard it was O/T!_

_meadow567 - lol, I've had this storyline with Cordelia in my head for ages, so to me its been a long time coming. _

_Madison Bellow - I think I would be in a very similar state - or out for someone's blood! Lol, I'm just trying to keep the plot bunnies at bay - they just won't leave me alone! I'll send some your way!!!_

_Righto, no spoilers, just a million thanks to sparkyCSI for being my beta!_

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 154: It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true**

Taylor sighed, leaning her head against the cool glass as she pulled her feet up beside her on the windowsill. She'd had to escape her bed again before she woke Flack up – she could feel the nightmare returning. Now, she was willing the sun to rise, rather than sleep the rest of the night on the couch.

She glanced up hearing movement in her bedroom, followed by the sound of feet padding softly across the floor.

'You're up early?' Flack asked, walking over to her.

Taylor frowned. She was certain she had been able to conceal the fact she was rarely in her bed anymore. 'I couldn't sleep,' she shrugged.

'Again?' he pressed.

Taylor sighed and allowed her head to rest back against the glass. 'I didn't mean to wake you.'

'What's the matter?' he asked, perching opposite her.

'A nightmare,' she shrugged. 'And I'm waiting for a call from Chris' lawyers.'

'You know they're three hours behind, don't you?' Flack muttered softly, placing a hand on Taylor's feet.

Taylor nodded. 'She's going to have to stay here. There's no one else, and my mother's not going to have her. I can't let her go in an orphanage,' she added, staring imploringly at Flack.

Flack gave her a reassuring smile. 'You don't have to look to me for permission.'

Taylor rubbed her forehead. 'I think we're going to have to find somewhere sooner, rather than later. Marty said it was fine, but I can't have her staying in his room for four months. It's not fair to either of them. And what happens if he wants to come home? As it stands, he's back at the beginning of January, and Chris, hopefully, will be out at the end of that month.'

'Taylor, you have really got to remember to breathe every now and then,' Flack told her, smiling. 'I think that her sleeping arrangements should be lower down the list of priorities. She needs to be enrolled in school, she needs a doctor, hell, the kid needs clothes. There's nothing in that bag of hers.'

Taylor felt the blood draining from her face. 'I never even thought,' she muttered. 'I don't even know where to begin.'

'Why don't you start by getting a shower? I'll get us breakfast and then we can work out what we're going to do.'

Taylor nodded and slipped off the sill, heading to the bathroom. She turned the water on and stripped, and stepped into the shower.

------------------------------------

Taylor hung up her cell phone. The lawyers had confirmed exactly what she had suspected – that Cordelia was either staying with her, or she was going to have to go into some form of temporary housing.

Taylor had told the lawyer, Bernstein, that she was keeping Cordelia until her brother was released.

She flung her cell onto the bed and hurried into the kitchen where Flack was making breakfast, Cordelia now up, seated at the table.

'What's your favorite color?' she asked Cordelia.

'Blue,' she responded, accepting the eggs off Flack. 'What about Wilbur?'

Flack and Taylor looked at each other.

'What does Wilbur eat?' Flack asked her.

'Special stuff. It comes in a yellow bag.'

'You eat that. Wilbur can have some eggs too,' Flack said, scraping some eggs into a bowl and setting it onto the floor for Wilbur, which he stuck his nose into straight away.

'Cordelia,' Taylor started softly. 'You're going to stay here for a while. Is that alright?'

'Where's my mommy?' she asked, her blue eyes, staring beseechingly at her.

Taylor froze, staring over at Flack. _How the _hell_ did one answer that kind of question?_

'Your mom has had to go away for a while,' Flack answered for her.

Cordelia put her fork down. 'Why couldn't I go with her?'

'Your mom's not feeling very well. She didn't want you to get sick too,' Taylor lied, ignoring the disapproving stare Flack was sending her way.

Cordelia nodded. 'Can I call her?'

'I don't know her number,' Taylor told her sadly. 'But I'm sure she's going to call soon.'

Flack sat down next to her. 'If it's alright with you, I'm going to get you enrolled at the local school?'

Earlier, Flack and Taylor had agreed he would get Cordelia enrolled, as, being a local, was aware which schools were the best, whilst Taylor would go shopping for necessities and items to make her feel more at home – although pig food was now on that list.

Cordelia nodded.

-----------------------------------

Taylor hitched the pig food up under her arm – it had taken hours to find it. It was also expensive and heavy. She had also managed to purchase some new child-friendly bed sheets for Cordelia, as well as matching curtains, and a few other necessities. Sliding her handbag down her arm, she rooted around in it as best she could, to check on the money situation.

The food was too heavy to carry home, and as she had walked, it was a taxi which was going to get her home and into the merciful air-conditioning. It was still sweltering and she was feeling very hot and uncomfortable. She had just noticed a few stray bills when someone was wrenching it from her arms.

'Hey!' Taylor yelped as the leather straps which were wound around her wrists were yanked hard. 'Help!' she shouted. Instead of anyone helping, everyone stood and watched. And then it was over as the strap broke, the momentum sending her backwards and onto the sidewalk, the bags flying everywhere. She knew as she landed that the crack was her arm breaking. Again.

------------------------------------

Taylor was sulking in the examination room at the hospital she had been taken to (once she had ensured someone had scooped the pig food up – it was expensive, after all). The nurse had been in and set the wrist – it was broken, like she had suspected. Now, she was waiting for the doctor to come back. He stepped into the room and pulled a stool opposite the bed.

'Ms. Turner, I'm concerned about your weight.'

Taylor blinked. She was certain he was going to say something about how she had broken her wrist too many times and it was going to have to have the plaster on for even longer this time. But her weight? 'Excuse me?'

Dr. Creed looked down at the chart in his hands. 'At 5'10", a healthy weight would be between 132lbs and 174lbs. Ms. Turner, the nurse took your weight earlier and you're weighing in at 120lbs.'

'Hang on, the rest of the world is concerned about obesity and I happen to get called on because I'm _under_weight?'

The doctor sighed. 'Being underweight has implications just like being overweight does. It might be why you've had your wrist in a cast so often,' he suggested.

Taylor frowned and looked down at her bare legs which were peaking out under the skirt she was wearing.

'Do you have issues with your weight?' Dr. Creed asked her gently.

Taylor shook her head. 'No.'

'I know that celebrities often find the public eye very criticizing,' he leant forward. 'Do you need me to refer you to a specialist?'

Taylor blinked again. 'A shrink?'

Dr Creed shook his head. 'I was talking about a nutritionist. She can give you healthy options for maintaining a slim figure.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open as she stared at the haggard face of the doctor. 'Are you implying I have an _eating disorder_?' she asked incredulously.

Dr. Creed sighed as his pager went off. 'I apologize, but I have to get this. I urge you to consider the nutritionist. And there's a detective outside to see you.'

Taylor just stared, mouth open, as he disappeared. Seconds later, the door opened and Angell walked in. She frowned at Taylor's expression. 'You alright?'

Taylor shook herself out of her thoughts and nodded at the detective. 'I'm fine. Aside from the fact my bag's been stolen and my arm broken,' she sighed.

'You get a good look at the person who did it?' Angell asked, pulling out her notebook.

Taylor shook her head sadly. 'It was a blur. All I know is that he was wearing a dark jacket and had dark hair. Which probably narrows it down to thirty percent of the population,' she muttered dryly.

'What was in the bag?'

Taylor quickly listed the items she could think of and then Angell stood. 'I'll be honest,' said the detective. 'I doubt we'll find anything.'

Taylor nodded, rubbing her forehead. 'Figured as much.'

'You need a ride home, or is Flack coming to get you?'

Taylor nodded. 'That would be great. Don has an appointment, otherwise I would have called.'

--------------------------------------

'Taylor?' Flack called as he unlocked the door and walked in to her apartment.

'How'd it go?' Taylor asked, stepping out of Marty's room. She'd just been putting the new sheets on, and the curtains up, as well as clearing some space in Marty's closet.

'She's at St. Martins. After spending an hour in a conference call with her old school in San Diego, and after she took half a dozen tests – _what the hell happened to your arm?_' he demanded, spotting the bright white cast.

Taylor glanced down at Cordelia who was petting Wilbur and frowned. 'Cordy, do you wanna go watch TV?'

Cordy nodded and went into the living room, Wilbur at her heels.

'I got mugged,' Taylor admitted, sitting down at the table.

'Why the hell didn't you call me?' Flack asked, sliding down next to her.

Taylor shrugged. 'You were sorting Cordelia out. That was slightly more important. Besides,' she added at his slightly outraged expression. 'You couldn't have done anything.'

'It would have been nice to know,' he pointed out.

Taylor sighed, leaning back in the chair. 'Sorry,' she muttered.

'Are you alright?' he asked.

Taylor nodded. 'Can't say I'm a stranger to this one.'

Flack pursed his lips but said nothing.

--------------------------------------

After checking on Cordelia – who was fast asleep, Wilbur sleeping next to her (she wasn't sure if she approved of the pig sleeping in the bed with her, but she was trying to make things as easy as possible), Taylor headed to the bedroom. Flack was still in the shower- she could hear the shower running and his singing.

With a frown firmly etched on her face, she stripped down to her underwear and stared at herself in the mirror.

'I don't know about you, but _I_ like what I see,' Flack informed her from the doorway.

Taylor turned. The sight of him wearing only a towel and still glistening from the water should have been enough to remove the frown, but it remained planted firmly in place.

'What's the matter?' he asked, concerned, walking over.

Taylor stared at her ribs in the mirror. 'Do you think I'm too thin?'

Flack exhaled slowly and sat on the end of the bed, staring up at her in the mirror. 'I'm so glad you didn't ask if I thought you were too fat,' he smiled.

Taylor turned – still frowning. 'Seriously, Don. Am I too thin?'

Flack stared at her, chewing at his lip.

'You do, don't you!' she exclaimed.

'Taylor, I love you the way you are-'

'But?' Taylor demanded, hands on hips.

'But I don't want you getting any thinner.'

Taylor sighed, sinking onto the bed next to him. 'Sorry I snapped,' she muttered.

Flack half turned to her. 'Where has this come from?'

'The doctor implied I had an eating disorder. Thinks that because I'm a celebrity it was obvious I was going to get one.' She flopped back onto the bed. 'I don't have an eating disorder. And I would hardly call myself a celebrity.'

Flack smiled, sinking back next to her on his side, propping his head up with his elbow. 'I think an eighty foot picture of yourself constitutes celebrity status.'

Taylor glared at him.

'Hey,' I'm not complaining,' he shrugged at her.

* * *

_Righto all, I must apologise for the lateness of this post. My rabbit ate my laptop cable, but all is well because I ate him! Ha ha, only joking. About me eating him - he still ate the cable and I have been left laptopless and internetless for nearly three weeks! (Which has killed me!) As such, I may post again tomorrow!_


	156. You can't hide from your demons,

_RK9 - Trust me, the bunnies shall never be in the same room as the laptop! I think pigs will eat anything, but I do know they need a special diet otherwise they become fat! lol No worries on that!_

_sparkyCSI - It feels so weird to have had a week off work, but I think that will change again next week! I will be online Sat, but I think it'll be daytime. Tay will work it out eventually, but Flack is much better!_

_demolished-soul - lol, Cordelia has really grown on me too, and definately a good father. But that's a way of yet! Apparently, we're looking at the beginning of April!_

_meadow567 - It felt like it! Darn rabbits! It's been bugging me for a while, and I was chatting with my housemate about it as she waswondering how i hadn't bought it up sooner!_

_Aoife - She doesn't have one - I'm not talented enough to go down that route. It's more about how she keeps throwing up after the ghosts and being put off her food. It's definately rare for Flack's soft side to be shown in the show, but on the rare moments he does, it's sweet. I have my laptop back so all is well!! I hope it is with you too?_

_Aphina - She's been doing it for a year and half, so it's probably about time someone noticed! I know I have Cordy asking some questions in the chapter - I was quite worried if I had handled it right! And, yum again on near naked Flack!_

_Madison Bellows - lol, it's not one - it's five! It's taken some work with the weaving - I have as many plot bunnies as I do real ones! She does need to eat, and at some point, she will be sent to talk to someone, but in terms of what I have planned, that's a ways off too!_

_Righto, spoilers. There is a mention/reference to someone in season 4, but as for the storyline that goes along with it, I will not be addressing that one for a VERY long time! There are however, more direct references to the first Shane Casey episode, which may, or may not (I forget) be called Hung Out To Dry._

_I, of course, have much thanks to sparkyCSI, as always, but a little extra in this chapter (and for her parents too) for the help with Cordy's questions._

**

* * *

**

What The Eyes Can't See 

**Chapter 155: You can't hide from your demons, Feel them all lurking around**

Taylor rushed around the kitchen, desperately throwing sandwiches together and into a bag. She had awoken early, as Flack had a 3am call out, and yet, she was still rushing around. It was Cordelia's first day at her new school, and so far, Taylor was the only one worrying… and the only one who was rushing around like a headless chicken. 'Come on,' she muttered, ushering Cordelia out of the door.

They hurried the last block and Taylor was glad to see that the bell hadn't rung by the time they got there. She was about to walk into the small playground when she was stopped by someone calling her name. She turned and looked in surprise at the person who had shouted. 'Danny?'

'What are you doing here?' Danny asked.

'I could ask you the same thing,' Taylor frowned.

'Please tell me there isn't a gh-'

'No,' Taylor said quickly, cutting him off. There was no need for Cordelia to know about that. 'I, uh…' she frowned. 'This is my niece, Cordelia. She's living with us now.'

Danny dropped to his knee and flashed a grin at the shy girl. 'Hello there. I'm Danny. How old are you?'

'Seven,' she said quietly.

'She's in the third grade, though,' Taylor grinned.

Danny whistled. 'This your first day?'

Cordelia nodded.

Danny turned. 'Ruben!' he bellowed. 'Get over here!'

A little way up the street, a boy was busy throwing a baseball up in the air, catching it in his mitt. He stopped when he heard Danny shout and ran over. 'What's up, Danny?'

'Ruben, this is Cordelia. She's going to be in your class. I want you to look after her, alright?'

Ruben looked Cordelia up and down, until his brown eyes settled on her blue. 'You like baseball?'

Cordelia shook her head.

Ruben sighed and shot a pleading look at Danny.

'I like basketball,' Cordelia said quietly.

Ruben cocked his head, staring at her. 'Who?'

'Lakers.'

Ruben twitched his mouth, as if tasting the answer, and then shrugged. 'We'll get you liking the Knicks. Come on. Kenny said he was bringing his Bumblebee Transformer in.' He grabbed Cordelia's hand and dragged her into the building.

'Um, thanks,' Taylor muttered as Danny stood upright.

'No problem,' he shrugged.

'Who's Ruben?' she blurted out.

Danny laughed. 'Kid in my building. I help his mom out sometimes. Cordelia?'

Taylor sighed. 'She's my niece. Her mom and grandmother didn't want her, Chris is still in jail, and, well, here she is.'

'That's crap,' he stated. 'I mean, about her mother. Some people shouldn't have kids.'

'Tell me about it,' Taylor muttered. 'Aren't you at work?'

Danny nodded. 'On my way. We had a call out to the Greeks this morning.'

Taylor held her hand up. 'If it involves dead things, I don't want to know.'

Danny laughed. 'I'll be going then.'

Taylor shuddered and hurried off.

-----------------------------------------

By late afternoon, she was back at the school, Wilbur in tow, ready to meet Cordelia. 'How was your first day?' she asked her as she appeared in the throng of children.

Cordelia just nodded.

'And what about Ruben?' Taylor pressed as the pair walked away.

Cordy smiled. 'I like him.'

Taylor grinned happily to herself. 'How about we head to the park?' she asked her.

Cordelia nodded.

Taylor sighed inwardly. She wasn't exactly expecting the child to be laughing and joking with her every five minutes, but she was hoping she'd open up a little more than she had.

They soon reached the park and Taylor settled down under a tree, passing Cordelia the soccer ball she had bought on the way.

A while later, Cordelia flopped down next to her, pulling a book out of her bag.

'You want to go home?' Taylor asked her.

Cordelia just shook her head.

Taylor sighed again and leant back onto her elbows, watching Wilbur forage around at her feet. And then it was like he picked up on a scent. Taylor smiled to herself. He was actually kinda cute.

He started to wander off, and Cordelia was up, chasing after him. 'Cordy!' Taylor shouted, getting to her feet and running after her herself.

She found her pulling Wilbur away from a stone he was desperately scratching it.

'He's found something,' Cordelia told her as she tried to hold onto his collar.

Taylor frowned and sank to her knees, pulling the rock out of the way. The moment she saw the blood, she dropped the rock and turned to Cordelia. 'Cordelia, go stand over there for me,' she ordered.

Cordelia looked down at the think Wilbur had found. 'What is it?'

'Cordelia!' she repeated sharpishly.

Cordelia nodded and moved away, keeping in Taylor's line of sight. Taylor sighed and dug her hands into her pocket, pulling out a pen. Carefully, without touching the fabric, she lifted a corner away. Her stomach lurched as she worked out what it was and allowed the fabric to drop. She moved away, back to the child and pig, pulling out her phone.

----------------------------------

'Taylor?' Flack cried, somewhat alarmed at the sight of his girlfriend, her niece, and a pig at the crime scene he had been sent to. 'Please tell me you've not chased an osts-ghay to a ead-day ody-bay.'

Taylor blinked. 'Did you just talk to me in Pig Latin?'

Flack flashed Cordelia a bright grin, before leading Taylor away by the elbow. 'Did you follow a ghost here with Cordelia?'

Taylor's mouth dropped open as she slapped Flack's arm with the back of her hand. 'What do you take me for?' she asked, outraged.

'Sorry,' Flack muttered, rubbing his arm. 'I just,' he shrugged. 'You know?'

Taylor sighed. 'Expect me to screw up as much as I do?' she offered softly.

Flack pulled out his notebook. 'What happened?'

Taylor shrugged looking at the piglet. 'I think we have a sniffer pig.'

'Is that like a spiderpig?'

Taylor snorted. 'A sniffer pig. Like a sniffer dog. _Wilbur_. He found… that,' she pointed at the ground.

Flack looked over at the incriminating article. 'Did you touch it?'

'Just with a pen,' Taylor muttered, feeling her stomach churn. 'It's a head.'

'I don't know if I want it to be the one missing or another,' Flack muttered.

Taylor licked her lips. 'The one missing?' she repeated.

'That call out this morning was to a Greek Frat house. Dead body hanging upside down from a ceiling-'

Taylor held her hand up. 'Cordelia,' she said quickly, even though it was obvious that the child couldn't hear their hushed tones.

Flack glanced over at the child. 'You should get her home.'

Taylor nodded and made to walk over, but paused. 'Why would you want it to be the head off another body?' she asked, curiosity winning out over her churning stomach.

'Because if I have to deal with another drunk frat boy, I swear I'm going to-'

'I'll see you later,' Taylor muttered, cutting him off with a kiss. 'I think it's time to get Cordelia fed and check if she's been given any homework.'

---------------------------------------

Flack walked in hours later, exhausted, to find Taylor curled up on the couch watching television. 'How come you're not in bed?' he asked her, dropping down next to her.

Taylor shrugged. 'I was busy watching a forensics show. I actually understood half of it for once.'

'Sorry I jumped to conclusions in the park, earlier.'

Taylor sighed, pulling herself into a more upright position. 'It's fine. Though this is why I don't want children yet. I can hardly balance my life with ghosts, never mind with a child involved too.' She sighed again, muting the television. 'She asked what Wilbur found.'

Flack loosened his tie, looking over. 'What did you tell her?'

Taylor squirmed. 'To ask you.'

Flack took a breath. 'How long ago did she go to bed?'

Taylor glanced at the clock. 'I left her reading a while ago.'

Flack rose to his feet. 'I'll talk to her. But, you know, you're going to have to answer some hard questions at some point, Tay.'

'I know, Don. But death is one thing. Decapitation is another.'

Don nodded and headed to Marty's room, knocking softly as he pushed the door open. Cordelia was still awake, reading a book, the pig stretched out next to her. 'You should probably be asleep, misses,' he told her, as he perched on the edge of the bed.

Cordy reached over for a bookmark and slipped it in place. 'I'm sorry,' she apologized.

Flack smiled. 'It's okay. I'm glad you're still awake. Taylor said you had some questions.'

Cordelia nodded, looking awkwardly at the detective. 'Are you a policeman?'

'I'm a detective,' Flack affirmed.

Cordelia bit her lip. 'What did Wilbur find?'

'It was a head,' Flack answered honestly. 'We found the body this morning.'

Cordelia frowned, blinking as she processed this. 'Will the doctor be able to fix it?'

Flack shook his head, solemnly. 'She's dead, sweetheart. You can't live without a head.'

Cordelia looked up at him, still frowning. 'Why did she die?'

Flack smiled gently. 'I'm trying to find out, Cordy.'

'Was she bad?' she asked softly.

Flack shook his head, giving her a reassuring smile. 'No. I don't think so.'

'How did her head come off?' she asked, suddenly looking worried.

Flack got up and moved positions so he was sat next to her. 'Cordelia, I promise you that nothing like that is going to happen to you. It was done by a very bad man who I'm going to find and arrest so you don't have to worry about him.'

'Will he want my head? Or Wilbur's?' she asked, wide-eyed.

Flack shook his head, wrapping his arm around her. 'No. You have nothing to worry about. I'm just sorry you had to see what you did. Do you have any more questions?'

Cordelia shook her head.

'I think it might be time for you to get some sleep,' he told her. He got off the bed and tucked her in, before switching off the light and leaving.

'I take it she was still up,' Taylor asked as he rejoined her on the couch.

Flack nodded.

'What did you tell her?' she asked.

'The truth,' Flack shrugged.

Taylor frowned. 'Was that the right thing to do?'

Flack looked over at her. 'She's seven, Tay. I think she's old enough to understand death, and I'm not about to start lying to her.'

Taylor sighed. 'I was just hoping we could protect her from all of the evil in the world.'

'I know,' he nodded. 'But the world isn't a safe place, and we shouldn't wrap our kids up in cotton wool. She doesn't need to know the details, but she needs to know to be careful.'


	157. My time is coming

_meadow567 - I wasn't going to, because I wasn't really ready to touch season 4, but I thought it might be nice for Cordelia to have a friend!_

_Aphina - I wasn't sure, but I like the awkwardness too. She's been bounced around, so I would think it would be inevitable_

_RK9 - I'll be honest, my knowledge of it comes from the TV - I cheated and used an online translator (yes, they actually do them for pig latin!) I do have one somewhere. Not so much fluffieness in this chapter - I got straight into something else. Sugar is good - I'm hyped up on lack of sleep and Redbull!_

_sparkyCSI - Crody has grown on me - she wasn't going to play as big a part originally, but I like having her around! I'm on the redbull, so I may be online later. I'll get 16 back to you!_

_demolished-soul - I don't know how you can wait - I can't! lol. I love the side of Danny that's been shown in this season. I think it's time at least one of them settled down!_

_This chapter, kinda appeared out of nowhere, after the request of miss wizzard of oz (so this arc is dedicated to you - I hope this is something like you envisioned)_

_I also have huge thanks to my wonderful beta, whom I bombarded with chapters, and despute how busy she is, managed to get them back to me in a day!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 156: My time is coming**

'Are you alright?' Taylor asked Flack as he walked into the apartment and sunk into a chair at the table, sinking his head into his hands. His appearance had alarmed her – his trousers torn and covered in mud.

'He got away,' he said, his voice somewhat muffled as he spoke into the table.

Taylor arched an eyebrow as she sat in the chair opposite. 'Huh?'

'We had him and he got away,' he said, still talking to the table.

Taylor reached across, gently grabbing one of his hands. 'What happened?' she asked, giving his hand a squeeze.

Flack finally looked up. 'Shane Casey.'

Taylor licked her lips and looked straight into his now stormy blue eyes. 'I'm not following, Don.'

'Shane Casey. He's the kid who decapitated that girl, and impaled the bouncer to a tree with railway spikes through his ey-'

Taylor squeezed his hand a little harder than she intended as she fought to keep the images from her mind.

'Sorry,' he apologized. He exhaled slowly. 'He was killing people who were involved in sending his brother to prison. Hawkes is on that list. Me and Danny chased him down… we had him in booking. And some rookie cop let him get away.'

Taylor's eyes widened in alarm. 'What about Sheldon?'

Flack shrugged. 'He won't have any form of protection. Damnit!' he cried, slamming his fist on the table, making Taylor jump. 'We had him, Tay.'

'And you'll get him again,' she told him earnestly. 'I wouldn't be surprised to find that you have a pile of open cases stashed away in the bottom of one of your drawers.'

Flack eyed her suspiciously. 'Have you been rooting around in my desk?'

'Nope,' Taylor told him. 'I think the department would have issues with a journalist looking through a detective's drawers.'

A small smile began to creep onto Flack's face.

--------------------------------

'I'll get that,' Taylor muttered, yawning.

Flack rolled over, grabbing Taylor's pillow and pulling it over his head as she left the room.

'I'm coming,' she hissed in a stage whisper, not wanting to wake Cordelia, although Wilbur was at her feet, so it was likely she was still sleeping, as the incessant knocking continued. She opened the door a fraction, but the person who had been knocking burst in past her.

'Where is he?' Devon demanded.

'Devon?' Taylor gaped at the woman. 'What are you doing _here_?'

'Where's Martin?' she commanded instead of answering.

Taylor rubbed at her eyes, half convinced she was dreaming. 'He's in St. Louis. Why?'

'Because he _dumped_ me. OVER A FREAKING TEXT!' she cried.

'Shhhhh!' Taylor hissed. 'People are trying to sleep!'

'I don't care! _Nobody_ breaks up with my texting me. Especially not some two-bit coroner,' she spat.

_Taylor leapt on her, grabbing her immaculate hair and shoving her face into the sink filled with cold, dirty washing up water, holding her head down despite the struggling, until, she stopped._

'I'm the person that does the dumping,' Devon shrieked.

Taylor shook her head. The hallucination had been very realistic. 'Seriously, Devon. It's two am. And both beds are occupied.' _Wrong choice of words._

'I knew he was here!' Devon cried, as she began marching to the bedroom.

_Taylor ran after her, tackling her… and then she went sliding across the floor, carpet burns coating the blonde's face as she crashed head first into the wall, and then remained there, unmoving._

Taylor snapped out of the hallucination in time to grab Devon's arm and pull her back to the kitchen. 'Seriously, Devon,' she hissed. 'Marty is in Missouri. I have my niece in that room. _Sleeping_!'

'Is he really, or are you just covering the fact he's in your bed?'

_And with that, Taylor shoved her, sending her flying through the kitchen and somehow, through the window. Taylor ran over as her body hit the ground several floors down._

Taylor quickly shook her head, driving the latest image from her mind. 'Devon. Go home,' she told her firmly, before the illusion became reality. She stared at the woman, her eyes dropping to her feet and the expensive looking shoes she was wearing… to see Wilbur peeing over them.

Taylor rubbed at her eyes. Only the outraged squeal from Devon was actually because Wilbur _had_ done the nasty.

'My Jimmy Choos!' she squealed hysterically. Making a noise sounding something like a horse, Devon turned and stormed out of the door, slamming it behind her.

Taylor contained her laughter to chuckles as she leant over and petted the pig. 'That'll do, pig,' she said, before laughing harder.

'You expecting him to talk back?' Flack asked, appearing sleepy-eyed, hair ruffled.

Taylor stood up. 'Baa-ram-ewe?'

--------------------------

Looking back, if Taylor had to pin point when everything began to spiral out of control, she would have said exactly two days after Devon had turned up on her doorstep at two in the morning…

* * *

Taylor let out a yawn as she watched Cordelia disappear into the school. She had been up all night working on her latest column – she had been so absorbed, she hadn't even realized what time it was until Flack had gotten up for work. She was heading home, when a familiar face appeared in front of her. 

'He was using me,' Devon declared, outraged.

Taylor was midway through sighing, when she noticed two things. Firstly, that Devon had become somewhat see-through, and secondly, that both Maddy, _and_ Aiden were standing either side of her.

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'Oh, please, no,' she muttered. She looked over at Aiden. 'My arm is already broken,' she told her.

Aiden nodded. 'I'm going to try to make sure that the second one does follow suit.'

'What do you mean, _try_?' she asked. 'And more importantly, exactly who are you going to stop-' Taylor stopped as Devon lunged at her, before being held back by Aiden. 'What the _hell_?'

Maddy shrugged. 'She needs your help. But she kinda blames you.'

Taylor gaped at her. 'Me?'

'Maddy,' Aiden cried, exasperated, momentarily flinging her arms in the air, before having to grab Devon again. 'You are going to get switched with Eirik again, if you're not careful.

Maddy clamped her mouth closed and shrugged apologetically at Taylor.

'He just used me!' Devon snapped again.

Taylor looked at the strawberry blonde and tried to swallow a lump in her throat. She didn't exactly like the girl, but she never wished this on her. Her face flushed as she remembered the hallucinations. Something clicked. 'Oh god,' she muttered as she stormed off to the precinct.

She hurried into the precinct, spotting Danny and Flack instantly, and not liking the expressions on their faces. She walked over.

'Taylor?' Flack looked up in surprise.

'We have a problem,' Taylor told the pair, who strangely looked like they already knew. 'Devon.'

Danny nodded, confirming her suspicions. 'Found dead this morning by her maid.'

'Well why aren't you processing her apartment?' Taylor asked.

'Taylor,' Flack started gently. 'We've been pulled off the case.'

'Why would they do that?' Taylor asked, confused. 'It's not like anyone knew her, really. Other than Marty. And he's in St. Louis.' Taylor looked at Danny, who was refusing to meet her gaze, and then to Flack, who looked like he was struggling to find the words. Taylor felt her heart plummet into her stomach. 'He's not in St. Louis, is he?' she whispered.

'He's in holding,' Flack affirmed.

Taylor's eyes widened. 'But Marty didn't kill her.'

'We know that,' Danny sighed. 'Problem is that the evidence isn't supporting that.'

'But Devon…' Taylor trailed off as she remembered what the ghost of Devon had told her. 'Oh, crap.'

'What?' Flack demanded.

'Who's in charge of this investigation?' Taylor asked instead of answering the question.

Flack's face clouded over instantly.

'What?' Taylor asked suspiciously.

'Flack's old man is heading up the investigation,' Danny responded instead.

'Crap,' Taylor repeated softly. And then she frowned. 'Your dad? NYPD narcotics legend?'

Flack nodded, grimly. 'That's him.'

'But I thought he was a) retired, and b) a narcotics cop?'

'He was. Only I nearly got blown up, and then I started dating you. so dad thought it would be a good idea to pull himself out of retirement and take up an offer an old friend made him, and now he's in Internal Affairs,' Flack sighed.

'Oh crap,' Taylor repeated for a third time. She inhaled sharply, pulling herself up to her full height of five feet, ten inches, and turned on her heels… only to have Flack grab her shoulder.

'Don't, Tay,' he told her.

Taylor turned, biting her lip. 'Don, I have to find Devon's killer.'

'I know,' he sighed. 'Just,' he ran his hand over his mouth. 'Be careful.'

Taylor gave him a small smile before turning to get on her way again.

The next time she was stopped, it was by Angell. 'Hey,' the detective called, hurrying over. 'I was going to call you.'

Taylor stared expectantly at the detective.

'Your bag got handed in.'

Taylor frowned. 'My bag?'

Angell pointed to the cast on her arm. 'The reason for that. It was handed in.'

Taylor nodded, distractedly. 'That's good,' she muttered.

'You alright?' Angell asked her.

'Yeah. I'm sorry, Jess,' she added. 'I have to… go.' With little other explanation, she hurried away, straight to booking, where she found Bosco, feet up on the desk, reading a boy's magazine.

'I can't let you see him,' he sighed, as he looked at her over the top of the page.

'Bosco, he's _your_ friend too,' Taylor told him, folding her arms under her breasts.

'Shhhh,' Bosco hissed at her. 'The loo doesn't know that, and I'd rather he didn't find out.'

'Suddenly ashamed of your friends?' Taylor demanded, infuriated with his response.

'No,' Bosco retorted, slamming the paper down and leaping to his feet. 'But it's the only way I'm going to find out what's going on.'

'Sorry,' Taylor muttered as she shook her hands in agitation. 'Let me see him, Bosco.'

'Not a chance in hell,' he told her.

'Come on,' she pleaded. 'I'll be in and out before you know it.'

Bosco sighed. 'I'm getting a coffee.'

'Thank you,' Taylor breathed as she slipped into the room behind, finding herself with three cells, the last of which was holding Marty.

'Taylor?' Marty asked in surprise.

Ignoring the leering from the drunk in the cell next to him, Taylor quickly walked over. 'What is going on?' she asked him. 'You're supposed to be in another state!'

'She rang,' Marty told her, pacing up and down. 'And I felt bad, so I caught a red-eye to see her in person.'

'And?' Taylor pressed.

'There was arguing, make-up sex, arguing, and break-up sex. And then I left. She was still alive,' Marty told her.

'But why do they think it was you?'

Marty shrugged. 'The neighbors heard the arguing… and the make-up sex… and the-'

'I get the picture,' Taylor cut him off.

'My DNA is all over her, my prints all over her apartment. But I didn't do it, Tay,' he told her, his eyes pleading with her.

'I know,' Taylor nodded. The ghosts were always cryptic. They weren't likely to be any different this time.

'What the hell is going on in here?' a voice bellowed from behind.

Taylor could feel herself shrinking on the spot as she turned to find Flack Sr. staring at her, his face bright red and his moustache twitching. 'Uh,' she stammered, struggling to come up with an excuse.

'You will get out of here right now, or I will be hauling your ass into your own cell!' he roared.

'Look, Detective Flack-'

'It's _Sergeant_,' he snapped. 'And I don't see what you can possibly say that is going to make me let you stay here. And don't even think about coming back!' he added as Taylor darted past him. 'BOSCORELLI!' he bellowed at the officer who had appeared in the doorway Taylor was just darting through, cup in hand. 'GET TO MY OFFICE IMMEDIATELY!'

* * *

_So CSI do the most infuriating, and lead us to believe that for over a season, her name's Jennifer. That screws up people like me who have been using it as her name! So now, I've switched to Jessica - and I'm going back and changing it all (bear with me, there's a few chapters!) so if you've started from the beginning and got here, or re-read this, and discovered that I've missed one, please let me know. I have to change it - it'd be like calling Danny... David... or something!_


	158. Right now they're building a coffin

_laplandgurl - Hello! Thank you for coming out of the shadows - and I'm really happy to hear you like it!! I wish I could go back and read this over - I know in some the earlier chapters they're in need of editing. Anyhoos, I hope you continue to read and enjoy!_

_demolished-soul - I wasn't going to originally, but I was answering a request! lol. I've had fun writing it, though!_

_Aphina - I still can't get over it (and I still haven't changed any chapters (:s)) I think I was in the height of my Ally McBeal episodes at that point! lol_

_miss wizzard of oz - well, I said I would at your suggestion, so here it is! I hope you're not making Danny dizzy! I need him to catch Devon's killer!_

_sparkyCSI - I will be going to bed shortly - I have another long week ahead of me. I need a new job! Scarily, I was watching Ally thinking, she's a more neurotic version of me - so I could 'see' Taylor's hallucinations as well as she could!_

_Alana Xavier1 - I won't give anything away! With Flack Snr, I have had thinks running in my head for a while. It will take some time, but things will sort themselves out! (You are right though!)_

_The Corrupter - Whoa girl! I go, and then you appear and review another million chapters! So, the answers, here goes: yes, you should be concerned, Sheldon will be getting a g/f... she's a small ways off, keep on gushing - it makes me happy, lol. There are some good fics out there too - you should read them. Just PM me and I'm give you a list!_

_Dizzy Dreamer - I don't actually know anymore. I think so - I just need another episode with her in (IMDB says she's a Jennifer still). I'm so confused with the situation!_

_meadow567 - I am undecided as to what do with Angell. I think that until the next TV episode, I shall simply refer to her by her surname, and then I'm getting out of changing anything!_

_No real spoilers, just big thanks to my marvellous beta, sparkyCSI!_

**

* * *

**

What The Eyes Can't See 

**Chapter 157: Right now they're building a coffin your size**

Taylor paced the empty corridor, her brain whirling a million miles a minute. 'Devon?' she called softly.

The redhead appeared with Maddy and Aiden in tow.

'Okay,' Taylor muttered as she resumed pacing. 'I'm a CSI. What do I do?' she frowned. 'Well, I'd process the scene. But I can't do that, and I can't go and ask one as they're not on the case themselves.' The frown deepened. 'Alright, so I'm Taylor Turner, journalist. Now what do I do?'

'He used me,' Devon declared.

Taylor inhaled deeply. 'I write an article about domestic violence,' she decided. 'Devon,' she said addressing the ghost who was now glaring at her. 'I am going to find your killer. Should you wish to help me, now would be the time.

'He used me.'

Refraining from rolling her eyes, Taylor headed back to her apartment, picked up a notebook and pen, and jumped in her car, heading for the Upper East Side, and Devon's apartment.

By the time she got there, the police had clearly disappeared, but that didn't make her journey into the building any easier. Unlike the previous time she had been to Devon's, this time, she was stopped by a young doorman.

'I'm here about the Maxford Murder,' she told him. 'Taylor Turner, _New York Daily._'

'I know who you are,' the man sighed. 'But I can't let you or any other reporter in.'

'It's okay, she's with me.'

Taylor turned, the look of surprise washing her face as she heard Danny's voice.

Danny held up his badge. 'Official business.'

The doorman looked at the badge, eyeing it carefully, and then nodded.

Taylor opened her mouth to comment, but Danny led her to the elevator by the door. 'Not now,' he hissed out of the corner of his mouth as he smiled at the doorman.

As soon as the elevator pinged closed, Taylor turned. 'What are you doing here?'

'Helping a friend,' he told her. 'I know Marty didn't kill her. Plus, Flack sent me,' he added.

'Huh?' Taylor muttered, confused.

Danny sighed, leaning back against the elevator, watching the digital display as the numbers ascended. 'Flack was going to, but I told him I would. At the end of the day, his dad doesn't like me, so it's not like I have anything to lose.'

'Only your job,' Taylor blurted out, despite the fact she was happy to see him.

'You know you could get arrested too?' Danny pointed out.

Taylor shrugged. 'He's my friend. And at this point, I could be the only one who could help him.'

Danny nodded. 'Exactly.'

The elevator pinged open. The last time Taylor had been there, she hadn't realized how few doors there were down the corridor. She stood staring at the crime scene tape which was blocking Devon's door.

'We can't go in there,' Danny told her.

'I know,' Taylor sighed. 'I came to talk to the neighbors anyway. I just… how exactly did she die? I didn't notice any wounds on her body.'

'Louie may have accidentally-on-purpose let slip that she was suffocated.'

'Pillow?'

'Hands,' Danny corrected her. 'And whilst there are no prints, the hand print is the same size as Marty's.'

--------------------------

Questioning the neighbors proved to be useless. The only thing they could say was that they had heard shouting, followed by a rhythmic banging and screams of pleasure, repeated twice over. 'Now what?' Taylor asked the walked out the door.

Danny glanced at his watch. 'Now I have to pick Ruben up from school.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'Cordelia,' she gasped. 'I completely forgot.'

The pair of them headed to the school to pick up their respective children, and soon the four of them were in the car again.

'Ms. Turner, can Cordelia come and play?'

Taylor shot a glare at Danny who had started laughing at her mortified look at being addressed as "Ms." and glanced back at Ruben. 'Just Taylor will do,' she told him, suddenly feeling like her mother. 'And only if your mother agrees.' Behind her, Cordelia was beaming – the first proper smile she had seen on the child.

Mrs. Sandoval, Rikki, was delighted. 'Ruben hasn't stopped talking about her, or Danny,' she told them as the three adults watched the children playing from the doorway of Ruben's room. 'I wasn't sure how well he'd take moving, but he's fitted right in.'

'Where did you move from?' Taylor asked her.

'Only from Queens, but it's a big enough move for a child Ruben's age. He tells me Cordelia is from California?'

Taylor nodded. 'It's a long story, but I've become her guardian.'

Rikki smiled. 'Well, I'm glad that they're friends already. How about we let Cordelia stay for dinner?'

Taylor glanced at her watch, frowning. 'I would, but I have to help a friend out with something. I think I need to get a sitter sorted.'

'Nonsense,' Rikki told her. 'Leave the children playing here. If it's going to be late, she can stay. It's not like we don't have room,' she said, indicating to the bunk bed.

'I really couldn't,' Taylor protested, but was cut short by a jab in the side from Danny.

'Ignore her, Rikki,' he said. 'I need to get going too. Ruben, you still coming to watch the game on Saturday?'

'Of course!' Ruben yelled, excitedly.

Thanking Rikki once more, Taylor and Danny left. 'So how do you know her?' Taylor asked.

Danny shrugged. 'I helped her move in a few weeks back. The next day, Ruben woke me up at 7am. I had just got in from pulling a double. She works from home. I only spend so much time with him because he won't leave me alone.'

Taylor gave him a sideways stare. 'Please tell me you are not trying to complain, because the look you give that kid…'

Danny grinned. 'Nah, I like him. He's just tiring. Anyway, at least you now have a babysitter.'

'I can't keep imposing on her,' Taylor muttered.

'I don't think she'd mind,' Danny told her, 'but I was talking about me.'

Taylor gave him another sideways glance. 'How about we worry about finding Devon's murderer?'

'And what do you suggest?'

'Someone had to have seen someone else enter or leave that building,' Taylor sighed.

'The doorman?' Danny asked.

Taylor shook her head. 'I doubt it. He wasn't there when I visited last time.' She let out a small sob from the back of her throat. 'Oh, God, Danny. I don't know how you can do this. I feel so helpless.'

'Hey,' Danny muttered gently. 'You help out all the time like this. Why is this different?'

'Because it's Marty,' she cried. 'And because you can't help either. This whole thing seems futile. And the whole time I have Devon haunting me, telling me _he used her_!' she exclaimed, ignoring said ghost who was again being restrained by Aiden in the back seat.

'He used her?' Danny repeated.

Taylor nodded. 'It doesn't exactly hold out much for Marty, does it, when his defense consists of argument, sex, argument, sex?'

Danny frowned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way.'

'The alternative being?'

'We're trying to find Marty innocent.'

'Of course we are,' Taylor snapped. 'Sorry,' she apologized instantly, pulling over.

'Maybe we should be trying to find someone else guilty?'

Taylor cocked her head. 'You think he's being framed?'

'I don't think someone is going out of their way to set him up. I think the motive was Devon, and Marty just happened to be in the way.'

'So who do we find out who it was?'

Danny frowned. 'We can't get to her files.'

Taylor shook her head. 'I'm trying to think like the CSI I'm clearly not,' she muttered cryptically.

'You want to elaborate?'

'We talk to her friends.'

'Taylor, we don't have access to her files,' Danny repeated carefully.

'Yes, but she's a socialite. All we have to do is find another one.'

Danny rolled his eyes. 'Couldn't she have been a doctor, or a teacher, or someone with a higher IQ than a rabbit.'

'Oh, I think I know someone who rolls in those circles who you can have a conversation with.'

------------------------------------------

'The Museum of Natural History?' Danny asked as the pair vacated the car.

Taylor nodded. 'We're here to see Dallas.'

'Taylor, I know Kirsten shot JR. It's whether or not Marty shot Devon that we need to find out.'

Taylor arched an eyebrow. 'Devon wasn't shot. And I was talking about a person, not a TV show.' She snorted as she tried not to laugh. 'First _The Little Mermaid_, now_ Dallas_? Please tell me you played with Barbie dolls?'

Danny rolled his eyes and walked into the museum. 'Where to?' he asked when Taylor had caught up.

'Fourth floor,' Taylor told him as they started walking up the stairs.

'So who is the chick?'

'I met her at the benefit that was held here the other week. She's an entomologist.'

Danny frowned. 'And how do you know that the two women will know each other?'

Taylor sighed. 'I may have done some research.'

'What? In case Marty was accused of murder?'

Taylor shook her head. 'I met her that night. She was talking about some expedition to South America. I was curious. It turns out that Dallas Galsworthy-'

'Galsworthy? As in _the_ Galsworthy's?'

'The very same Galsworthy of Galsworthy Tea,' Taylor nodded.

'How on earth did an heiress get interested in bugs?' Danny asked in disbelief.

'They freaked my stepmother out,' Dallas' crisp voice carried across the hallway.

Taylor smiled at the woman, who was now looking much more comfortable in khaki cotton pants and a vest top. 'Hi Dallas.'

'Taylor, right?'

Taylor nodded.

'How can I help you?' Dallas asked as the pair walked up to her.

Taylor looked at the woman. It was clear she had been crying. 'I take it you heard about Devon?'

Dallas nodded. 'We both went to the same Prep School, and we both came out at the same debutante ball.'

'Were you close?' Taylor asked her gently.

'I wouldn't say _close_,' Dallas sighed as she led the pair into her homely office. She busied herself clearing several books and papers from a couch they were hiding and indicated they should sit. 'I don't really think that anyone other than Princess was close to her.'

'Princess?' Danny asked, pulling a face.

'Her Yorkshire Terrier,' Dallas sighed as she walked over to the large windows.

'I've never seen her with a dog,' Taylor frowned.

Dallas shook her head. 'You wouldn't. Princess peed in her Louis Vuitton, so she got rid of her. But that was probably the one person who knew her secrets.'

Taylor's face fell. 'You wouldn't know anyone who would want to kill her?'

Dallas shook her head. 'Your best bet might be her boyfriend.'

'Marty didn't kill her,' Taylor protested automatically.

Dallas frowned thoughtfully. 'Wait, that was the guy she brought to the benefit, right?'

Taylor nodded. 'Marty Pino.'

Dallas inhaled deeply and shook her head again. 'No, that must be her latest boyfriend.' The frown deepened. 'A teacher?'

Danny stood up. 'He is a coroner, but he's taking a sabbatical to teach at Washington University.'

'Oh yes,' Dallas agreed. 'The one she decided she was slumming it with.' She held up her hands at both Danny and Taylor's outraged expressions. 'Her words, not mine. I didn't get to meet him properly. But either way, he has to be a mark up on the previous boyfriend.'

'Who was that?' Danny asked, almost greedily.

'I can't remember his name. I just remember that he was younger than she was. And he played football, I think,' she added thoughtfully.

'Thank you,' Danny told her.

Dallas nodded sadly. 'Find who did this.'

'Trust me,' Taylor told her. 'We're going to.'

-------------------------------

Despite Rikki's offer, Danny had insisted there was nothing more they could do, and told Taylor to pick Cordelia up and take her home. Thankfully, for Cordelia, Rikki had fed the child something more substantial than anything Taylor could have whipped up (EasyMac) and had even made sure that the two children had done their homework.

By the time they got back, there was nothing left to do other than let Cordelia play with Wilbur.

Wearily, Taylor sank into the couch flicked on the television, watching the child and pig out of the corner of her eye. At Marty's face appearing on the screen, she turned up the volume.

'… _officials have arrested Dr. Martin Pino for her murder, and he is currently awaiting arraignment. Max Maxford is currently en route from Japan, but is said to be hiring the best lawyers in the North-East who are going to be pushing for the death penalty…'_

Taylor glanced over at Cordelia. She had stopped playing and was staring at the screen. Whilst she and Marty had never met, his face was all over the apartment. Taylor quickly flicked the television over to the Disney Channel, gave Cordelia a reassuring smile and walked into the kitchen.

She was still staring out of the kitchen window when Flack walked in a while later.

'Taylor, are you alright?' he asked, walking over.

She looked up. 'Huh? Yeah. Why?'

'You're standing in the dark, staring into space.'

Taylor looked around, somewhat surprised. 'Oh!'

'Marty?'

Taylor nodded, leaning into him. 'Any news?'

Flack wrapped his arms around her. 'Nothing useful.'

'What do you mean?'

'My dad thinks I shouldn't be staying here. And he's been giving Sid hell for hiring him, as well as Mac.'

Taylor turned abruptly. 'Are you serious?'

'As a heart attack,' he muttered. 'But I wouldn't expect anything less. Look, I don't know about you, but I don't want to talk about my dad.'

'I think I can deal with that,' Taylor muttered dryly.


	159. You're the devil in disguise

_meadow567 - lol, I'm glad you think that - I've been having some fun writing it!_

_Madison Bellows - Pairing, I dunno, something new! lol. I don't mind! I can't work out whether to change her name, or keep it. I'm just refering to her by her surname at the moment (:s) It's the very same Bosco - characters have been popping up all over the place (I was being too lazy to create my own.) I am going to catch up soon, I promise!_

_Aphina - I swear my plot bunnies went mad - I think Taylor's life is generally chaotic. I'm going to have a bit of a relaxing time come up for her!_

_miss wizzard of oz - glad to hear! And I'm happy you're liking it too!_

_RK9 - Don't worry about it - RL gets in the way for me all the time! I didn't expect Cordelia to play as big a role as she has, but she's grown on me too! (Don't worry about Marty!)_

_sparkyCSI - Hahahahah - I have no idea where that came from, but we all know I'm crazy! It's been so long since I've written, I had to go back and remind myself!_

_demolished-soul - It was a request from the 1500th (I can't believe there's been that many!) reviewer! Just this chapter left on it - then the case is gone!_

_Not much to say other than a million thanks to my incredibly patient beta, sparkyCSI!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 158: You're the devil in disguise**

Taylor awoke the following morning feeling like she had barely slept at all. The bizarre dreams of being chased down corridors had kept her tossing on the couch until the early morning. She groaned and rolled over, staring at the green LED display of the VCR which almost obnoxiously telling her that it was nearly nine.

Taylor leapt to her feet in horror as she realized that there was no way of stopping Cordelia being late for school. She tore into the bedroom, freezing when she realized that its only occupant was a pig staring beseechingly at her from the bed. She turned around and ran into the kitchen, spotting the note on the fridge straight away.

_Took Cordelia in on my way to work. Try to get some sleep, and try not to worry. Marty will be fine. I'll see you later._

Taylor sank back against the counter staring at the note, breathing a sigh of relief.

And then the three ghosts appeared.

Taylor looked over at them with a frown. 'You are so lucky Cordelia isn't here,' she muttered under her breath.

'He used me,' Devon told her, managing to look upset that Taylor had spoke before she had.

Taylor stared at her and sighed. 'Who used you?' she asked, knowing it was a futile attempt.

'_He used me!'_ she roared, swiping at the breakfast bowls Flack had washed on the sideboard, sending them flying to the floor with a crash.

Fuming, Taylor leapt to her feet and stormed over to a cupboard, pulling out a salt shaker. 'Either you calm down, or you're getting this in the face,' she told the ghost threateningly, as Aiden struggled to keep a hold of her.

'You can't really threaten them like that,' Maddy chastised her. 'She's dead.'

'So are you,' Taylor pointed out. 'But I don't see you destroying my plates.'

'She's angry,' Aiden offered as Devon calmed somewhat.

'So am I!' Taylor told them. 'I am trying, okay!'

Devon broke free of Aiden's grasp and swiped at the counter again, this time sending a cookbook (purely decorative, of course) flying.

Taylor looked down at the book lying open at the recipe for lamb casserole, and saw red. 'Get. Out.' She told Devon through gritted teeth. 'Get. Out. Now. And don't come back until you can give me something useful.'

There was a knock at the door, and Taylor flicked her eyes over. When she looked back to where the ghosts were, they were gone. Still furious, she stalked over to the door and flung it open with an angry, 'What?'

Danny looked at her, startled. 'Drew, you look like crap.'

Taylor growled at him but stepped back to allow him, Lindsay and Sheldon in. She looked down at the boxes they were all struggling slightly with and arched her eyebrow at them.

'Danny told us what you discovered yesterday,' Hawkes explained.

'And as we couldn't do this in the lab, we're coming here because Sgt. Flack isn't likely to,' Lindsay added.

Taylor pulled open one of the boxes they had put down on the table. 'You're going to save Marty by reading tabloid papers and gossip magazines?' she asked incredulously.

'Yup,' Danny agreed proudly.

Taylor stared at him, baffled. 'What?' she finally managed.

'It's so simple, it's genius,' Danny added.

Lindsay managed a smile. 'Actually, it is.'

'Huh?'

Sheldon pulled out a magazine and threw it open. 'What do you see?'

Taylor looked at the page in question. 'Lindsay Lohan got thrown out of a club.' She looked up at them. 'That's nothing new, and as the magazine is months old, I don't see how we can get Lindsay Lohan to be an alibi for Marty.'

'And the bit below?' Danny pressed.

Taylor looked back down. 'Paris Hilton with Paris Latsis and the handbag dog of hers.'

'Exactly,' Danny beamed.

Slowly, understanding washed over Taylor. 'Oh!' she exclaimed. 'She's an "it" girl so all of her antics and whoever she's been dating will be in the papers! That _is_ genius.'

----------------------------

By mid afternoon, the furthest any of them had moved was to the door to pay the pizza delivery man. Taylor finished scrawling a note in her notebook and then dropped the magazine she had been reading onto one of the growing 'read' piles. She got to her feet and stretched out her back before grabbing another magazine and dropping back onto the couch. Beside her, Lindsay did the same thing.

'I think I've lost a few IQ points,' Sheldon grumbled.

'That's probably because this room isn't Feng Shui'd enough.' Danny muttered.

Taylor snorted. 'It isn't _what?_'

Danny threw the magazine onto the pile. 'Yeah, I'm losing IQ points too.'

'I think I can tell you every person that Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, and Nicole Richie have slept with, the combine weight of the Olsen Twins, and exactly who has had Britney's kids since the first was born,' Lindsay sighed gloomily as the others voiced their dismal agreements.

Taylor sighed and turned the page, her mouth falling open as she spotted a picture of… herself. 'What the hell?'

'You find something?' Danny asked hopefully.

'Yeah,' Taylor frowned. 'Me.' She looked up to catch the three CSIs sharing a look. 'What?' she demanded.

'Taylor, you've been appearing in them since,' Lindsay frowned. 'Well, since that picture of you appeared in Time Square.'

'Uh huh, but this says I was held for questioning over the Bond Burglaries, _and_ that I was looking cozy with Roberto Stasinopoulos at the benefit,' she said, holding up the picture of her talking to a dark haired man with a large nose. 'We were talking about Greece – the country, not the film.' She pulled her glasses off and squinted at the picture, frowning at how thin she was in it.

'I give up,' Lindsay grumbled flopping back against the couch. 'I'm going cross-eyed.'

Danny leant back against the wall, mimicking her actions. 'You got anything?'

'A lot,' Taylor reported. 'But I think we can rule out Pete Wentz, Chad Michael Murray and Prince William.'

'We can throw Tom Hanks and Lindsay Lohan to that list too.'

'She gets around,' Sheldon whistled.

'Who? Devon, or Lindsay Lohan?' Taylor smirked, rising to her feet and heading to the kitchen. She was pulling a few cans of Pepsi out of the fridge when Devon reappeared.

'He used me!'

'Narrow it down,' Taylor told her pleasantly, ducking as a spoon from the side went sailing over her head. 'Alright,' she said, holding her hand up. 'That was a little uncalled for, I admit. But who? You can't be talking about Marty!'

The cookbook went flying onto the floor again, landing back on the page for lamb casserole. 'He used me!' Devon shrieked, pointing at the page.

Taylor looked up at Maddy and Aiden. 'For Christmas, I would really, _really_ like a ghost dictionary.' She headed back into her living room. 'Are there any chefs on these lists?' she asked.

Danny and Sheldon looked at theirs but Lindsay stared at her. 'Huh?'

Taylor raised her shoulders and pulled a face.

'Nope,' Danny told her.

'I have Gordon Ramsey,' Hawkes offered.

'Really?' Taylor asked, amazed. She shook her head. 'What about someone with the name Lamb?'

The three shook their heads. 'Nope,' Lindsay said.

Taylor frowned. 'Any other ideas?'

'You might want to explain that a little better,' Hawkes suggested.

'Devon keeps showing me a recipe for lamb casserole,' Taylor sighed, thoughtfully.

Danny frowned. 'I've got a Darren Grainger.'

'And who would he be?' Taylor asked.

'Drafted for the St. Louis Rams, fresh out of the University of Missouri.'

Taylor's eyes lit up. 'Which would make him 21, 22?'

Danny nodded. 'And younger than Devon.'

'And Devon's father is the owner of the Rams,' Taylor grinned before it turned quickly into a frown. 'Only, how do we prove he was in New York?'

Danny and Lindsay stared at each other. 'Taylor!' Danny exclaimed. 'The Rams are in the city this week for a charity game against the Giants.'

Taylor let out a satisfied sigh and sank into the couch, grinning. 'We rock!'

--------------------------------

Taylor was pacing up and down the living room, Wilbur trotting back and forth with her, whilst Cordelia sat on the couch reading one of the Harry Potters. Danny, Lindsay and Hawkes had returned to the crime lab, whilst Taylor had gone to collect Cordelia, and she was now waiting impatiently for news.

Finally, there was the sound of a key turning in a lock and Taylor dashed into the kitchen in time to find Marty and Flack. 'Oh, thank God,' she exclaimed, throwing her arms around Marty.

'No, I think I should be thanking you,' Marty grinned, hugging her back.

'Danny helped a lot. And Devon, in her own, weird way.'

Marty pulled back and looked at her fully. 'Thank you, Taylor.'

'What happened?' Taylor asked, looking from him to Flack.

'Danny went to Mac with the evidence, Mac went to my dad, and Grainger was arrested.'

'Did he say why he did it?' Taylor asked.

Marty headed to the fridge and removed a beer from it. 'Well, Grainger was sleeping with Devon whilst she was with me, and he did it so that he could make starter.'

'Seriously?' Taylor asked in disbelief.

Flack shrugged. 'Better excuse than I've heard from a lot of people,' he said, accepting the bottle Marty was offering.

'Taylor?'

Taylor looked at Marty. 'Yeah?'

'Why is there a piglet at your feet?'

Taylor snorted back a giggle. 'That's Wilbur.'

'Yeah,' Marty nodded. 'And why do we have a pig?'

'He's Cordelia's,' Taylor explained.

Marty cocked his head and looked at the doorway behind Taylor. 'And I take it that's your niece?' he asked, pointing with his bottle.

Taylor half turned and nodded. 'Cordy, this is Marty.'

Cordelia smiled shyly and then disappeared back into the living room.

'She doesn't really say much,' Taylor muttered.

'She does,' Flack said, surprised. 'I couldn't get her to shut up when I took her to school this morning.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'I beg your pardon? Are we talking about the same child?'

Flack nodded. 'All she could talk about was some kids called Ruben and Kenny.'

'Great,' Taylor muttered, slumping heavily into one of the chairs at the table.

'Tay, you do realize she probably doesn't trust you,' Marty pointed out.

'Why not?' Taylor demanded.

'She got dumped by her mother, and then by her grandmother,' Marty shrugged. 'She's probably worried you're going to do the same thing. If her friends are Ruben and Kenny, I'm guessing they're not girls either.'

'I hadn't thought of that,' Taylor sighed.

'You'll be fine,' Marty told her reassuringly. 'You're just going to have to give it time.'

Taylor nodded. 'Look, why don't you two go and sit down in the there with her, where it's comfortable. I'll pour myself a drink and be back in a minute.'

The two men disappeared leaving Taylor alone with Wilbur. Which lasted thirty seconds until Wilbur dashed squealing into the living room at the sight of Maddy and Aiden and Devon (now dressed in white) appearing in the middle of her kitchen.

'Hi,' Taylor said shortly.

Devon stared petulantly at her until she received a sharp jab in the ribs from Maddy. 'I'm sorry,' she said.

'For what?' Taylor asked her. 'Accusing me of having an affair with him, or for trying to launch things at my head every time you saw me?'

Devon pouted. 'It wasn't _every_ time.'

'And that makes it alright, does it?' Taylor asked, arms firmly folded across her chest.

'Defensive much?' Devon retorted. 'God, sor-reee.'

Taylor rolled her eyes, before focusing on Maddy and Aiden. 'Can we hurry this along? American Idol will be starting soon.'

Maddy wrinkled her nose. 'Since when do you watch American I… Oh.' She gave Devon another poke.

Devon let out an exasperated sigh. 'Thank you,' she said. She sighed. 'I did like Marty, you know?'

'I'm sure,' Taylor replied, dryly. She rose to her feet and headed for the living room. 'You're welcome,' she threw over her shoulder as she walked out of the room.


	160. I try to take a breath but I'm already

_Aphina - lol, I work the most mind numbing job in the world - it gives my mind the chance to wonder. I have no idea how realistic things are, but I'm certainly trying! Here's more!_

_miss wizzard of oz - Well, I couldn't let Marty take the fall! And I'm not sure I want to know how you're earning those points back!_

_RK9 - I've gone back and edited the chapter so hopefully it's a little clearer, but basically, Devon's a socialite and all her activities would be in the gossip section of the papers/magazines. Sorry about that!_

_demolished-soul - Tut tut - I hope you got your homework done! Cordelia has actually been hard work - I don't know many kids (although I know plenty with the same mental ages) so I have no idea if I'm getting her right._

_CharmedMummy - You make an excellent point - I had forgotten about that!! I went back and changed it, so thank you for pointing it out!_

_meadow567 - My mind is twisted, and I wish I knew how it works, because it's rarely logical. However, I'm glad it worked!_

_Madison Bellows - I was trying so hard to be nice to Devon. It's not her fault! It didn't work, lol! Um, I've only just started being mean... (:D)_

_sparkyCSI - It's a little different to how they solve things, but I can see it too. Lol, I know you know how hard I've found Cordelia, so I figured some explanation would be good._

_Spoliers. Okay, so we're on to 3x11; Raising Shane (which I have taken some liberties with for my own, and hopefully your, amusement!)_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 159: I try to take a breath but I'm already choking **

A week later, and everything seemed to be back to normal and falling into a regular routine. Marty was back in Missouri, Cordelia was settled into school – even Wilbur knew when it was feeding time.

Taylor, who had spent the day at the paper, and the afternoon in the park (still amazed at the heat which showed no sign of letting up, despite it being the last week of September) running around with Wilbur and Cordelia, was now curled up on the couch watching the end of _Grey's Anatomy_ with Flack.

At the sound of a knock at the door, Taylor looked up at Flack, who was staring down at her. 'I'll get it,' she conceded. Taylor padded over to the door, stifling a yawn. She opened it to reveal Hawkes dressed in his running gear. 'Oh, Sheldon, I forgot to call you. I'm sorry.'

'I take it you're not joining me this evening?' he asked her.

Taylor shook her head. 'I can't. Don's on call, so I need to stay in with Cordelia.'

Hawkes nodded. 'That's fine. Don't worry. You probably wouldn't keep up anyway,' he added with a grin.

'Dude, no amount of goading is getting me out tonight.'

Sheldon laughed. 'I wasn't. But consider it a challenge for next time.'

'You're on, baby,' Taylor told him, returning the laugh, before he disappeared. She headed back into the living room, joining Flack on the couch where he had turned the programme over to _America's Dumbest Criminals_. She settled herself back alongside him, and looked up at him from under his arm. 'Seriously?'

Flack grinned. 'Are you kidding? This is genius. I feel I should take a video recorder out with me sometimes and sent half my arrests in.'

Taylor snorted and settled back. 'Whatever floats your boat?'

------------------------

Taylor awoke to an empty bed and a shrieking alarm. She'd been woken up only a few hours earlier to Flack's pager as he had an early morning call out, but had managed to fall back to sleep. Now, she had to get up and make sure Cordelia was ready for school. Gone were the days when she could turn the alarm off and snuggle back down under the covers.

She yawned and got out of bed, pulling the blinds open. It was already showing to be yet another scorcher. She wrapped her dressing gown around her waist and went to wake the child up.

Half an hour later, Cordelia was sat at the table, eating her breakfast, whilst Taylor dashed around the apartment trying to locate her gym kit. With a sinking feeling that it was still in the back of Flack's car, she pulled out her phone and dialled.

There was a very loud sigh from Flack before he spoke. _'Taylor, how did you find out already? In fact, don't answer that. Just tell me there's not a ghost because I really don't think you should be down here.'_

'Why? What's happened?' she demanded.

Flack sighed again. _'Why are you calling?'_

'Cordelia's gym kit. Any clues?'

Flack swore. _'Back seat of my car. Here with me.'_

'What's going on, Don? Because she needs her kit, and that means I'm going to have to go down there and get it.' There was a long pause. 'Don?'

'_There's been a robbery at a bar.'_

Taylor looked over at Cordelia who was pouring herself some more cereal. 'And that's why you don't want me down there?'

'_A witness ID'd Hawkes.'_

Taylor blinked. 'Sorry, I spaced out. I thought you said Sheldon had been ID'd.'

Flack sighed. _'I did.'_

Taylor took one last look at Cordelia, who was sending her a puzzled look, and walked out of the room. 'Is there anything I can do?'

'_Don't get involved like you did with Marty.'_

'Don, Sheldon is my friend too.'

'_Look, Gerrard has already been down here and Danny's been winding him up. Gerrard threatened to punch him.'_

Taylor shut her eyes. 'You're kidding me?'

'_Stella stuck up for him, but Gerrard's going to be all over this.'_

'What aren't you telling me, Don?'

'_IAB is involved.'_

'Your father,' she muttered, more as a statement than a question.

'_Yeah,'_ Flack responded softly.

'Don, I've got to come down there.'

'_Taylor, you really shouldn't.'_

'I need to get Cordelia's gym kit.'

Flack swore again. '_Promise me you won't stay?'_

'I have to get Cordy to school.'

He told her where the crime scene was and they said their goodbyes.

Ten minutes later, Cordelia was being bundled into a car and Taylor was trying to circumnavigate the morning traffic. She pulled up behind a police car, cutting off a taxi that beeped his horn at her. Ignoring him, she turned to Cordelia, telling to stay where she was whilst she grabbed the gym kit.

She spotted Flack by the door to the bar, talking to an officer, and waved at him to get his attention. He hurried over thrusting his keys at her.

'Is there-'

'No,' he cut her off.

'_Bonesera!' _a familiar voice bellowed from inside the building. 'You have been told to get you and your team out of here!'

Taylor looked up in time to see Danny storming out of the bar, followed closely by Stella, whose head was held high. Behind the both of them was Sgt. Flack. Their eyes met, and he walked over, just behind the two CSIs who had ducked beneath the tape.

'If I see you this side of the tape, I _will_ have you arrested.'

Taylor blinked, unsure as to whom he was addressing. And then she turned to Flack, smiling. 'I'll bring this right back,' she told him brightly, quickly heading over to his car. The gym bag was indeed, on the back seat. She grabbed it quickly and headed back to the tape.

Sgt. Flack had disappeared back inside the building, but Mac and Lindsay had turned up.

Stella let out a frustrated groan as Taylor handed the keys back to Flack. 'I hate the view from this side of the tape.'

Taylor nodded – she could certainly sympathise with that.

'So now what do we do?' Lindsay asked.

Danny snorted. 'Scratch our asses whilst these guys decided Hawkes' fate.'

'Taylor,' said Flack softly.

Taylor looked over at him.

'Are you forgetting something?'

Taylor shook her head. 'I don't think so?'

Flack rolled his eyes. 'Four foot, dark hair, blue eyes? Has a pet pig?'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'Gotta go,' she yelled, taking off at a run.

Somehow, although she wasn't entirely sure how she achieved it, she made it to the school _just_ before the bell rang. Taylor leant back against the railings trying to catch her breath – she'd had to park a way off and ran the rest of the way, hence the breathlessness.

'He's not going to stop.'

'Who's not going to…?' Taylor trailed off as she looked up a the black man standing in front of her, holding up a ring, dressed only in a pair of… boxers. 'Oh _hell_ no,' she cried, looking at Maddy, who, of course, was accompanying him.

'What?' Maddy asked innocently.

'I saw that film. I know how it ends.'

Maddy frowned. 'What, dare I ask, are you talking about?'

'_The Ring_. Watch a video, a week later you're dead?' she told her. 'We went to see that at the movies together.'

Maddy laughed. 'Oh yeah! You jumped every time the phone rang after that for a month!'

'It was a week. Tops!'

'He's not going to stop,' Casper the-practically-naked ghost repeated.

Taylor sighed. 'Look, I realise you're in something of a predicament, what with being dead, and all, but my friend has been arrested for murder. Again.'

'Again?' Maddy repeated.

Taylor frowned. 'Again, being another friend, not Marty again. Although,' she looked at Maddy, 'I'm surprised you're not all over this?'

Maddy scowled. 'Are you kidding me? I'd love to be in that cell, but I can't. I'm stuck with this guy too.'

'Fine,' Taylor sighed, before the male ghost could repeat his sentence. 'But I should warn you, if there's anyway I can help Sheldon, I will be doing that.' And with that, she marched off to her car.

-----------------------

Flack looked up from his phone call spotting Taylor heading towards him. He sighed as she sat down opposite. 'I thought you weren't going to get involved in this.' He told her as he cradled the phone under his chin, clearly on hold.

Taylor gave a slight frown, but shook her head. 'I'm here because of a ghost.'

Flack's face fell. 'Please tell me she isn't a blonde gunshot victim?'

Taylor again shook her head. 'Black guy. Though I can't tell _how_ he died. He is only in his skivvys though,' she added.

'Sounds like Angell's case,' Flack told her, before grabbing the phone and sitting upright. 'Yes, I'm still here.'

Taylor rose to her feet. Angell wasn't in the room so she figured that she might be with whichever CSI was working the case. She gave Flack a smile, to which he returned with a nod, deep in conversation with whoever was on the other end.

She headed for the door and was practically pushed out of the way by Mac. Taylor opened her mouth, ready to comment, but someone beat her to it, holding his hand out to the ex-marine.

'Detective Taylor? I'm Bobby Rushmore, Sheldon's representation from the Union. Don't worry about a thing. We'll take good care of him.'

Taylor sighed as she realised that Hawkes was probably in a lot more trouble than she thought – no one had really explained to her what exactly he had been arrested for.

She blinked as she realised Mac was storming past the attorney, straight for the door he had just come from. Judging from Gerrard's shouts, Hawkes was probably on the other side of the door.

'Taylor? Where you going?' Gerrard shouted, on his feet, chasing after Mac. 'Taylor!! Don't even think about it!' But it was too late; Mac was in the room, and Gerrard was shouting for someone to break it down if necessary.

Taylor took one last look at Gerrard's face, contorted in rage, and turned, all but running back to Flack. 'Don!' she called as she neared his desk.

Flack, who had heard some commotion, had already finished his call. He rose to his feet as Taylor approached. 'What?'

'Mac's barricaded himself in a room with Sheldon, and I think your captain is now out for his blood,' she quickly explained.

Flack swore and, putting his hands on her shoulders so as not to send her flying, dashed past her. Taylor watched him momentarily and then ran after him.

By the time she got there, Mac was being pulled from the room, and Gerrard was getting in his face.

'Your ass is mine, Taylor!' Gerrard barked.

'You threatening me?' Mac retorted angrily.

Which was when Flack was jumped in between them, pushing them apart. 'Who, whoa, whoa, whoa!'

Taylor frowned, grabbing Mac's arm.

'Let go of me, Taylor,' he hissed.

'Let me think about that…No,' Taylor responded in one breath as she continued to pull him backwards whilst Flack focused on his boss.

'Captain, let me handle this,' he told him.

'Stay out of this, Donald.'

Taylor's head spun around so fast she accidentally whipped Mac with her hair.

'Dad?' Flack groaned.

'Donald, you have been officially taken off this case, now get out of here.' The senior Flack turned to where Mac and Taylor were. 'Taylor, why am I not surprised?'

Mac shrugged himself free from Taylor's grasp and stormed off. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Flack talking to his captain – something Sgt. Flack also seemed aware of. 'You know, you could try and find the guilty party,' Taylor blurted out.

Sgt. Flack turned back to Taylor. 'Miss Turner, you are not helping anyone.'

Behind him, Flack was getting an agreement, albeit an exasperated one, from his captain. 'Yeah, I am,' she muttered as Flack made his escape, throwing a grateful nod at Taylor. As soon as he was gone, she gave the elder Flack a grin, turned, and vacated the room before he could say anything else.


	161. You Start To Freeze As Horror Looks You

_Madison Bellows - I wondered about using Flack Snr as IAB, but at this point, I went past caring! I just hope it plays out alright!_

_sparkyCSI - I'd like to say she's with me, but I think I've just scared my two off (I'm in a foul mood.) Maybe the Vodka/Red Bull, SoCo/Lemonade combo will bring them back! Hang on... did I read that right? Snow?!_

_demolished-soul - I'm about to pile it on Taylor. My muses have taken me down a dark road - it took a lot of convincing for there to be some fluff in there!_

_meadow567 - Hahaha, don't worry too much about the episode, I've been manipulating it again (:s)_

_miss wizzard of oz - Yeah, and there's going to be a third! I really do need to sit the muses down and have a firm word... if I could find them!_

_laplamdgurl - The only problem I have is work - there's no such thing as a social life in my books, sadly. (:c) I'm trying to get back into a regulary updating pattern, but everytime I try, I end up working another 60 hour week!_

_Aphina - Bless Taylor, she's so scatty sometimes! I think she had to be on the outside - it's not like she and Flack Snr have a great relationship!_

_Spoilers are still the same, and the thanks to my beta continue to grow!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 160: You Start To Freeze As Horror Looks You Right Between The Eyes**

Taylor was outside taking a deep breath when the ghost appeared again, this time accompanied by Aiden. Taylor stared at Aiden suspiciously, and then held her broken arm up. 'It's already in a cast. Or should I be worried about breaking something else?'

'Huh?' Aiden asked.

'Where's Maddy?'

'Oh,' Aiden muttered, drawing out the word. 'No, we swapped.'

Taylor's face fell. 'I haven't seen Maddy move anything for months. That doesn't fill me with comfort.'

Aiden grinned. 'Nah, no ghostly bad guys. She just wants to sit with Sheldon.'

Taylor sighed. 'She's really got it bad, hasn't she,' she muttered, more of a statement than a question.

Aiden nodded. 'Him and Johnny Depp. But as Johnny isn't facing life imprisonment, he's been knocked back to second place.'

'He's not going to stop.'

Taylor looked over at the ghost who was staring mournfully at her and studied him. Aside from the blue and white stripy boxers, the only thing he seemed to be wearing was a silver ring. And not on his wedding finger.

'Okay,' she told him. 'But only because Flack's dad is in with Sheldon so I can't talk to him.'

Taylor headed where she should have done the first time – to the morgue. She spotted her dead ghost instantly, but as Sid was removing blood from his insides with a ladle, she decided that for the time being, fresh air was more important. Taylor walked straight past and outside to the loading bay where she found Louie leaning against a wall, smoking.

'Want one?' he offered her, seeing how she was staring at the smouldering item.

Taylor leant back against the wall. 'If there was ever a time to start, I'd be getting close. But I'm not at that point yet.'

'First me, then Marty. Now the doc.'

Taylor looked sideways at him. 'First Maddy, the Aiden, then you and Danny. Don gets blown up, Stella gets run down, Lindsay's case back home, Sassone, someone tries to rob my house, Cordelia turns up, Marty gets arrested. And now the doc.'

Louie turned. 'How are you _not_ smoking?'

'No time?' Taylor shrugged.

'I need the number of your shrink,' he laughed.

Taylor smiled. 'There isn't one.'

Louie suddenly stopped laughing. '_Sassone?_ Are you still seeing him?'

Taylor frowned. 'I only visited him twice.'

'Taylor, you shouldn't have seen him the first time.'

'Louie, he's behind bars. Where he's staying for a long time. What can he do from there?'

'You just don't get it, do you?' he snapped, throwing his half finished cigarette down on the floor. 'Sassone is dangerous. Regardless of where he is. And he's not some dumbass criminal. He's smart, Taylor. He remembers everything.'

'I'm not scared of him,' Taylor told him. 'Like you are,' she added, glaring at him with her hands on her hips.

'Well you should be,' he glared back.

The pair stood glaring at each other until a van pulled backed into the loading bay. 'Hey Louie, got another one for ya,' the driver told him, pulling the door open.

With a final glare at Louie, Taylor spun on her heel, back into the lab.

This time Stella was with Sid, who had thankfully finished the autopsy on her ghost's body. 'Hi'ya Taylor,' Stella smiled at her. 'You here for Hawkes?'

Taylor sighed and pointed to the dead guy in front of her.

'You know the victim?' Sid asked, surprised.

Taylor froze. She'd forgotten that Sid didn't know. Thankfully, she was saved by Louie. He walked through wheeling a gurney with a dead blonde upon it.

Stella looked up, looking mortified. Sid, whose back was to Louie, turned. 'They'll get the guy who did it,' he told Stella

'I know they will, Sid,' Stella responded.

Taylor frowned. 'I'm missing something, aren't I?'

'That's the girl they're saying Sheldon shot.'

'Oh,' Taylor said, still frowning. She looked up as Peyton walked over.

'Aren't you performing the autopsy?' Stella asked her.

Peyton shook her head. 'Conflict of interest. Both Sid and I worked with Sheldon when he was an ME.'

'And who's that guy?' Taylor asked, referring to the man who was hovering over the dead girl with a scalpel.

'That's Doctor Cardini. He is one of the best pathologists in the state.' She turned to Stella. ' Unfortunately, Stella, I'm going to have to ask you leave whilst he examines the body.'

Stella's mouth dropped open, outraged. 'What? First the brass kicks us off the case, and now this? What's next? Are we going to be banned from our own building?'

Peyton sighed, but met Stella's gaze head on. 'This isn't a request from the brass. I'm the one asking that you leave. I don't want there to be any question of the integrity of the autopsy.'

Stella's eyes narrowed as she glared at the ME. 'Peyton, what exactly do you think I'm going to do?'

Whilst Peyton looked clearly uncomfortable under Stella's glare, she stood her ground until Stella apologised.

'I'm sorry. Of course.' Stella looked at the male ME. 'Uh, are we done here Sid?

Sid nodded, handing over a baggie. 'Trace from our John Doe.'

Taylor stood there, watching Stella leave. Behind her, Peyton cleared her throat. Taylor looked up. 'Me? But I don't even work here.'

Peyton gave her a pointed look.

'Yeah, good point,' she muttered, and hurried off after Stella.

-------------------------------

'How's Cordelia settling in?' Stella asked her as they rode the elevator up.

'What exactly happened, Stell?' Taylor blurted out. 'First I hear Sheldon held up a store, and now it's murder.'

'Taylor, that's about as much as _we_ know,' Stella sighed. 'But what we also know, that IAB doesn't, is that Sheldon didn't do it.'

Taylor groaned. 'This is even more frustrating than usual. I feel so helpless. And the ghost isn't even the girl.'

'Kelly Jones.'

Taylor cocked her head. 'What have the Stereophonics got to do with this?'

Stella shook her head. 'Kelly Jones is the dead girl.'

The elevator pinged open and the pair walked out. 'Either way, she's not my ghost. And the ghost I've got is being more unuseful than usual.'

'Unuseful isn't a word,' Stella muttered as she spotted Danny and Lindsay outside a lab. She walked over, Taylor right behind her. 'What are you talking about?'

Lindsay nodded her head at something in the lab. 'Hawkes' clothes just tested positive for gun shot residue.'

'What?' Stella asked sharply.

'They were testing the cuff of his right sleeve.'

'And?' Taylor asked.

Stella sighed. 'That's consistent with firing a gun.'

Lindsay nodded. 'And he's right handed.'

Danny folded his arms. 'Alright, we know he didn't do it.'

'Of course he didn't,' Taylor agreed.

'Well you know he didn't do it, I know he didn't do it, but the trouble is now we have an eye witness and more importantly, the evidence that contradicts what we all think.'

Taylor frowned and headed towards the break room, where she poured herself a glass of water and wandered over to the window, staring down at the sun-bleached city below.

'He's in Rikers, you know,' Maddy told her softly.

Taylor glanced up and at Maddy's reflection in the glass. She looked really pale – even for a ghost, like she hadn't slept for a week (which left Taylor wondering if ghosts needed to sleep). 'Really?'

Maddy nodded. 'They refused him bail.'

Taylor took a breath. 'I'm going to see him. Let him know we're doing all that we can.'

Maddy smiled sadly. 'Taylor, we're not though. I'm dead. You're a journalist, the CSIs aren't allowed anywhere near and the actual cops are convinced he's guilty.'

'Stop talking like it's hopeless,' Taylor told her.

Maddy shrugged. 'Maybe it is.'

Taylor eyed her suspiciously. 'I thought you could see the future?'

'No,' Maddy corrected her. 'I can see _some_ things that are going to happen, but after I told you about Don, they're not really in a trusting mood. And as for getting anything out of Aiden? That's about as likely as Wilbur learning to fly.'

--------------------------------

'This is a load of BS,' Danny fumed from the passenger seat.

Taylor half turned. 'You're preaching to the choir,' she muttered in agreement. Danny had spotted her leaving, and when she told him where she was going, he had asked if he could ride shotgun.

'Stop!' Danny yelled suddenly.

Taylor slammed her brakes on and squealed to a halt as the car behind her narrowly missed rear-ending her. 'What the _hell_?' she yelled back over the blaring horn of the car behind.

'I've gotta go,' Danny barely explained as he leapt out of the car.

Taylor watched him go, mouth hanging open in amazement. As the horn of the car behind blared into life again, Taylor pulled away and continued her journey to the prison. Finally she was seated in front of Sheldon. 'How you holding up?' she asked him softly.

'Orange really isn't my colour,' he told her, forcing a weak smile.

'What happened, Sheldon?'

'Honestly? I don't know. All I know is that I left yours, headed up Broadway to the Park. I'm heading home, and the next think I know, I'm having handcuffs slapped on my wrists.'

Taylor sighed. 'Look, they're doing all that they can. We all are.'

'I didn't do it, Taylor.'

Taylor smiled. 'We know that.'

* * *

_So, I know it's a little on the short side, but I have been having a truely lousy day - so much so, I am contemplating the SoCo! And I'm also wondering if I'm destined to stay trapped in Hell doing a job I don't like! Maybe tomorrow, after a day doing a job I like, I'll post another chapter!_

_Yes, I am off in search of Vodka for the Red Bull, and Lemonade for the SoCo... (:P)_


	162. My bones ache my skin feels cold And I'm

_SD - Hello lurker! Thank you for appearing and saying that - it really has cheered me up! I hope you're managing to find a way out of the job!!_

_laplandgurl - yeah, he can see them, but can't hear them... why? Have I completely blanked that fact somehere - it wouldn't surprise me if I had (:s)_

_Aphina - it tuned out to be vodka, and I was hammered... I need to learn how to drink again! I 've been reading over what I have coming up - I think that sh'es gonna end up having a nervous breakdown!_

_RK9 - I was kicking myself, but there's no way she and Sheldon can be together (:c) The following day was better - lol, I went into the other job, saw my eye candy, and spent the day messing around ahem working with one of the lads in the office!_

_demolished-soul - Thank you for the e-hug - it worked! And he is too good looking to be locked up! lol_

_sparkyCSI - Snow - that's crazy!! And I think you may have witnessed my drunkeness - I shall not be watching that film when not quite sober!_

_meadow567 - Thank you - here's another for ya!_

_Madison Bellows - My mind works in mysterious ways, that's for sure! If she needs a drink now, I dread to see what she's gonna need in a few (storyline) weeks! And thank you!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 161: My bones ache my skin feels cold And I'm getting so tired and so old**

After having the ghost wave a ring in her face for the majority of the ride back, Taylor headed back upstairs to the crime lab, locating Danny almost instantly. She sat down opposite him and stared at him until he focused in on her.

'I had to see someone,' he explained vaguely.

'And who was that important that you risked the paintwork of Maggie?'

'Who is Maggie?'

'The car, Danny. The car.' She shook her head. 'Look, about the case you're working. The dead guy in his underwear.'

'What?'

'He keeps showing me a ring.' She frowned. 'Well, he's now wearing a ring on his muddle finger, which he keeps waving in my face, but I'm choosing to see that as a clue rather than him swearing at me.'

Danny smiled as Stella and Mac walked into the room. 'Anything?'

Stella nodded. 'Actually, yes. Hawkes was working in ballistics yesterday. He test fired two different handguns.'

Taylor frowned. 'So?'

'So,' Mac explained, 'if he fired the gun and then slid the sweatshirt on later at home, traces of residue could have easily transferred to his sleeve.'

Stella's face fell. 'So we've explained the GSR. What about the cash in his pockets?'

Mac frowned. 'Let's treat Hawkes as he is – our only viable suspect. Let's interrogate him, right here, right now. Lets ask the hard questions, see what answers we come up with.'

'Okay,' agreed Stella. 'So what the hell was he doing on Green Street, that early in the morning?'

Danny leant forward in his chair. 'He works the late shift, Tuesday and Wednesdays 2 till 8. I know for a fact he goes running after he gets off. He says it's the only way he can wind down.'

Taylor nodded. 'I usually go with him. The streets are quieter at that time. We either leave here, head up Broadway, or he comes to mine and we head up Broadway. Then we head through the Park and go home through the side streets. It's only since I've had Cordelia that I can't go with him all time.'

'Okay, good,' Mac nodded. 'Has he been in that bar before?'

Taylor shrugged. 'Not when we've been running. There's a water fountain in the Park we always stop at that, but that's about it.'

Danny looked up. 'We've been in before. I'd say two or three times, maybe.'

Mac sighed. 'So it's possible he was casing the place.'

Taylor frowned. 'But even if he was, what was his motive?'

Mac shrugged. 'Maybe he needed money?' he suggested.

'Nah,' said Danny, shaking his head. 'He never mentioned anything about being strapped for cash.'

Taylor nodded. 'We talk about a lot of things, but money has never been a topic of conversation.'

Stella walked around the table and perched on the end of it, looking thoughtful. 'Three weeks ago, he started working the nightshift. That's overtime.'

Taylor grinned. 'Actually, he took the night shift because it's cooler. Three weeks ago your AC was completely on the blink.'

'He did move into a new apartment,' Stella continued.

Danny held his hand up. 'I'm telling you Stella, the motive is not money.'

'How can you be so sure?' Stella asked with a frown.

'Because the bouncer said the shooter fired his weapon _after _he already had the cash.'

'You talked to the bouncer?' Mac asked in disbelief, anger touching at his words.

'Danny, what were you thinking?' Stella cried, just as outraged as Mac. 'You can be accused with tampering with the witness, or interfering with an investigation!'

'Way to anger Papa Flack,' Taylor muttered under her breath.

'Taylor's right,' Stella told him after the dirty look he sent in Taylor's direction. 'And Gerrard is looking for _any_ excuse to come at us.'

'Flack's dad hated me before he met me, and Gerrard's been after my badge since I started.'

'So why did you go see the bouncer?' Mac fumed. 'You might as well have just handed your badge over to him.

'I'm sorry, all right?' Danny apologised, holding his hands out in front of him. 'But look, I didn't break any rules, all right. I just bent them a little bit - I didn't break them.' He looked up at Mac. 'But look, Hawkes was pulled out the back seat of an unmarked police car. His hands were cuffed behind his back. I mean, he looked like a suspect before they even ID'd him.' He shrugged. 'I just wanted to know the bouncer was sure.'

Stella pursed her lips. 'And?'

Danny sighed. 'He said that Hawkes did it. And that after he did it, he took the money from the register and he still shot the bartender.'

'Oh come on,' Taylor muttered. 'That's about as in character for Sheldon as me saying he dresses up in drag as Beyonce at the weekend.' She sat back in her chair. 'That's not Hawkes behaviour. It's like someone… someone setting him up.'

Mac looked thoughtfully at Taylor. 'Someone's framing him. There's no other explanation.'

Stella frowned. 'He would have to have been planning it for the last three weeks.'

Mac nodded. 'They must have been watching him to know when he was working the late shift. That he goes running after work wearing those types of clothes, running in that particular neighbourhood.'

'And that I have Cordelia now,' Taylor added. 'Which means he would have to know when Don is working so he knows when I can't go. That's really heavy preparation. He couldn't do it on a whim because I could be there.' She stopped and bit her lip.

Stella shook her head. 'But how would they know he's working ballistics and he got GSR on his hands?'

Mac shrugged. 'They got lucky.'

Taylor drew in a deep breath. 'But why would someone want to do this? Why would somebody want to take down Hawkes? I mean, it's _Sheldon._'

Danny nodded. 'And why this way?'

'Because someone's trying to prove a point,' said Mac.

'I don't follow,' Taylor told him.

'A bartender took two shots in the chest, the arrest was made based on id of a single eyewitness – the bouncer. It's not much evidence to go on. The average citizen might just believe that the justice system doesn't work. Sound familiar?'

Taylor shook her head. 'No.'

Stella, on the other hand, nodded. 'Shane Casey.'

Danny scowled. 'That son of a bitch is back.'

Taylor looked at them, frowning slightly as she tried to remember. 'The severed head?'

Stella nodded. 'The severed head, the elaborate t-shirts, the guy impaled to the tree…'

'The guy who escaped custody,' Taylor mused. 'But Don never really explained why Casey was after Hawkes. I mean, why he was killing people.'

'His brother was sentenced to life imprisonment for robbing a bar and shooting the bartender in the process,' Mac explained. 'He was then found dead in is cell.'

'Casey blames the legal system for the death of his innocent brother.'

Taylor sighed and glanced down at her watch, letting out a little yelp when she realised what the time was. 'Cordelia,' she cried, leaping to her feet and running out of the doorway.

She made it to the school, only just. There were only a handful of kids left to be collected at that time. Cordelia was standing with them, with her teacher, who was waiting, supervising them.

Taylor flashed the teacher a grateful smile and bustled Cordelia into the car. 'Sorry,' she apologised as they pulled away. 'Did you do anything interesting in class?'

Cordelia muttered something about a Bumblebee, and then stuck her nose into a book she had extracted from her bag.

Taylor sighed and focused on the traffic that seemed to have suddenly appeared from nowhere.

By the time Flack returned from work, Taylor had cooked the pair of them tea (EasyMac), watched a film with Cordelia (_High School Musical_) and had tucked her in bed with the book (Harry Potter).

And she was exhausted.

Flack walked into the bedroom, pulling of his tie, and found Taylor in bed with her laptop. Taylor looked up and smiled wearily, pushing the computer to one side as he flopped down on the bed next to her.

'How are things going?'

Flack scowled up at the ceiling. 'He's driving me mad.'

Taylor sighed. 'I don't get it. I mean, sure he's Internal Affairs, but if the case involves you, to some degree, why is he here? He can't be the only IAB officer in the state of New York.'

'He's not,' Flack told her. 'Thing is, my dad still carries a lot of weight in the Tri-Borough. And if he wants to get involved, he will.'

Taylor glanced down at him, playing with his hair. 'But surely he shouldn't be?'

Flack shrugged. 'Like he was with Marty, he's trying to protect me. The thing is, I don't need protecting,' he told her, clearly frustrated.

'Have you told him this?' she asked him carefully.

Flack looked up at her. 'You've met the man. Does he seem like the listening type?'

Taylor slowly shook her head.

'We stopped talking, you know,' he admitted quietly.

Taylor stopped playing with his hair and stared at him.

'About six years ago.'

'Why?'

Flack scoffed. 'Messer.'

Taylor wrinkled her nose up as she shifted herself into a more upright position. 'Come again.'

'When dad worked in narco, he spent half his time arresting Danny's father. So when Danny became a cop, let's just say he wasn't pleased.' Flack scowled again. 'He was fuming when I came in one night after going for a few drinks with him and Aiden. Told me to keep away.'

'Does Danny know about this?'

Flack burst out laughing. 'Of course not. How do you think he'd react if I'd have told him that?'

'Good point,' Taylor muttered.

'So I spent five years with the occasional strained dinner. Of course, your son getting blown up will change your outlook. He figured not talking to me nearly killed me, so now he's going to protect me by talking _at_ me. And it doesn't help that he's in IAB. They have far too much power.'

'And I'm clearly not helping matters,' Taylor sighed.

'Not with the father/son relations,' Flack shrugged.

Taylor looked out of the window, suddenly feeling very guilty.

'But the thing is,' Flack continued. 'I don't want to live at home with my dad.'

'Yeah, but I don't want to be the reason why you two don't make up.'

'Taylor,' Flack smiled, 'you are just one of many reasons on a list as long as I am tall. We weren't talking properly before you came onto the scene, and you're certainly not the reason why we're still not talking.' He pulled himself into an upright position and shuffled back next to Taylor. 'What are you up to?' he asked her. 'Next column?'

Taylor shook her head. 'I've got to go see Alex about that next Saturday.'

'What about the Pig Farm?'

Taylor shut her eyes with a wince. 'That's Saturday, isn't.'

Beside her, Flack nodded. 'Yeah.'

'Crap,' Taylor muttered.

Flack patted her knee. 'We can reschedule?'

Taylor shook her head. 'No, you two go. I don't want to disappoint Cordy.'

Flack nodded. 'So what are you doing?' he asked her again.

Taylor pulled the laptop back onto her lap. 'This Shane Casey thing. I didn't know the story behind it until this afternoon.'

'And?'

Taylor shrugged and placed the laptop on Flack. 'See for yourself.'

'_Shot For $192 on 192__nd__.'_ Flack read. 'It's an article about the bartender Casey's brother shot.'

Taylor nodded and pointed to something on the screen.

'You wrote that?'

Taylor nodded again. 'One of the first, and last, articles I wrote – before I stopped _reporting_ the crime, and started describing it. Not that it helps in any way,' she shrugged.

'Taylor,' Flack muttered. 'Turn the laptop off and come get some sleep.'

* * *

_My room is a tip... I'm going to tidy it then hit the hay before _another_ day at work! Thanks for reading, and I hope y'all are still enjoying!_


	163. You might as well save your goodbyes

_Madison Bellows- (:P) Hawkes as Beyonce, lol. I'd forgotten I'd written that! You're right, that is an image!_

_miss wizard of oz - um... yeah, probably so! Ugh, I don't even wanna think about the pile of dishes. But they're gonna have to get done._

_Aphina - lol, I'm trying to keep a balance of things at the moment, considering what I'm about to do to the lot of them._

_laplandgurl - I certainly believe in guardian angels - I'd be crazy not to! I think he's getting used to the idea, although if they pop up out of nowhere I think they'd still get him._

_RK9 - Yes and no. There were just bunnies, and now there's a guy. Kinda. But that's a road I can't go down! I do have plans for Sheldon to meet someone, but it isn't Maddy. I can have far more fun winding her up!_

_SD - Thank you! All the kids I've been around of late are over thirteen (I'm guessing mental ages don't count! lol) so I've been really conscious about that! Good luck on the move! I only wish I could move to Houston!!_

_meadow567 - thank you!_

_demolished- soul - I'm all about the details, lol. It certainly did. The only hugs I get these days are off my (well, he's not my boss, because he works in a different department...) at the job I like! And don't worry, Hawkes will be released in this chapter!_

_sparkyCSI - Kinda did... over worked it and it conked out! lol. I HAVE THE DAY OFF!! (Can you tell I'm happy about that?) And I have so much stuff to catch up on (:s)_

_We've still got spoilers (although I'm pretty certain this is the last chapter with them for a while!) and I still have a marvellous (and patient) beta! _

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 162: You might as well save your goodbyes**

Taylor stalked back into the bedroom from her bathroom, muttering not-so discreet curses about how a ghost had watched her shower.

'Are you alright?' Flack asked her, mildly amused.

'I am _so_ salting his remains and burning his ghostly ass,' Taylor fumed.

'Dare I ask _who_ you're talking about?'

'The ghost, who thinks it's alright to watch me shower.'

'Tay, sweetheart, his body hasn't been released, so you can't really do that – not that I'm approving of grave desecration.'

'Who said anything about digging him up? I'll do it in the morgue,' she told him, pulling a skirt on.

Flack bit back a smile. 'How about I take Cordelia in?'

Taylor threw him a grateful smile. 'That would be brilliant.'

Consequently, it was early when she got in. The only person around was Lindsay, who was in the process of making a cup of tea.

'You look like you haven't slept a wink,' Taylor told her from the doorway. 'And I don't mean in a good way.'

Lindsay looked over and smiled wearily. 'Can't say I did. Neither do you.'

Taylor shook her head. 'Not much. And it didn't help that ghost made me rush through my shower.'

'Taylor,' Lindsay snapped. 'Is now really the time to be playing around?'

Taylor frowned. 'Huh?'

'Sheldon is in Rikers, and Flack's dad is creeping around the lab like he's the grim reaper, and all you can do is talk about the damn ghosts!'

'You should switch back to the coffee,' Danny said, slightly surprised, as he joined the two women in the break room. 'Less caffeine.'

Lindsay slammed her tea onto the table so hard, it slopped over the side. 'That's right – take her side,' she snapped at him, plonking herself down at the table.

Behind her, Taylor raised an eyebrow at Danny. In return, he shrugged at her.

'I think I could do with a mug of that,' Taylor muttered as she watched Danny set the coffee machine going.

By the time Stella walked in, clutching tightly to a folder, the room had the same atmosphere as a tomb – like someone had died.

Stella looked around at the sombre faces. 'Guys, come on. Look, if there was something we could do, Mac would let us know.' Taylor snorted, but Stella continued, 'In the meantime-'

'Yeah, we work,' Lindsay finished.

Stella nodded. 'Right.'

'Come on, Stell,' Danny objected. 'The peep show guy's a drug overdose. End of story.'

Taylor shifted uncomfortably. 'Yeah, I don't think so.'

Although Lindsay rolled her eyes, Stella nodded her agreement. 'Someone placed that gun up his nose. I think there's more to the story.' She placed the folder onto the table in front of Lindsay. 'The green trace we found on out vic? It's clothing dye.'

Lindsay flicked the folder open and stared down at the photograph in front of her. 'Well, from the dye pattern on his neck and his collar bone, it looks like it was new clothing. Sweat a little bit, it rubs off on you skin.'

Stella sighed. 'That's exactly where the story stops making sense. The specific dye is found in a high end clothing line.'

'Maybe that's why he was naked,' Lindsay suggested. 'Maybe he was desperate for a fix, he was going to sell the clothes for drugs.'

Taylor stared over at the photograph. 'Did he have a ring on him?'

Stella looked over at Taylor and cocked her head thoughtfully. She leaned over and grabbed the folder, flicking through the various documents in it. 'No. Nothing.'

'Maybe it was theft?' Taylor shrugged. 'He keeps showing me a ring.'

Lindsay snorted. 'Did you find something on the boxer shorts?'

Stella nodded, handing the folder back. 'The analysis of the trace came back as disinfectant.'

Danny took a swig of his coffee as he handed a mug over to Taylor as the machine had finally finished brewing. 'Well, that makes sense. We found or vic in the peepshow booth. They have to clean up once in a while.'

'They don't _have _to,' Taylor muttered. 'You just kinda _hope_ they do.'

Lindsay shuddered. 'True, but according to the report, the stains weren't smeared, they were gravitational drops. Almost as if someone was kneeling over him.'

Stella looked over at Danny. 'Peeping Tom.'

'Peeping Tom,' Danny agreed with a slight nod of his head.

'Let me know if you find anything regarding a ring,' Taylor muttered.

-----------------------------------

Taylor sat at a computer chewing at her lip as she tried to poke a pencil under the cast in an attempt to relieve the itching that was driving her mad. It wasn't working. She was close to calling it quits and head home for her knitting needle when Mac walked in.

'What are you doing?' he asked her.

Taylor turned around slowly. 'Trying to find something in the Casey Case – not that I think you missed anything,' she added hurriedly. 'But I feel useless and it's not like Hawkes is being accused of murdering the ghost who keeps bugging me, and there's nothing I can do there. I just feel useless,' she finished.

Mac frowned. 'I was actually talking about that,' he said, pointing at the pen.

'Oh,' Taylor mouthed. 'Itch?' she shrugged.

Mac walked in and shut the door behind him. 'Why does it look like you've turned this office into your own?'

Taylor looked around. It certainly had her stamp on it. 'Does it actually belong to someone, because I have never been kicked off either of these computers? But if it's a problem, I can go.'

Mac shook his head. 'Taylor, I need your help.'

'Huh?' Taylor blinked, a little taken aback.

'I need you to go see Hawkes.'

'Why?' Taylor asked. It wasn't a problem; she was just curious.

Mac sighed. 'Casey visited him, and I need to know what was said to him. IAB won't let me near him.'

Taylor lean back in her chair, frowning. 'What makes you think I'll be able to?'

'I've spoken to a friend at Rikers. You were there yesterday.'

Taylor nodded slowly.

Mac shrugged. 'You can see him. Your name hasn't been blacklisted.'

Taylor nodded again. 'I'll go now.'

----------------------------------

An hour later, Taylor settled down into the uncomfortable plastic chair opposite Hawkes and smiled brightly. The smile remained frozen on her face as she spotted a familiar transparent person standing just behind him, staring sadly at him.

As Hawkes lifted the phone, he turned, looking at the spot she was staring at. 'You alright?' he asked her.

Taylor shook her head slightly. 'Oh, yeah, sorry. I spaced out.' She inhaled deeply. 'I heard Casey paid a visit.'

Hawkes nodded, scowling. 'Yeah, and the guards just let him walk out of here.'

'What did he say?' Taylor asked.

Hawkes shook his head. 'Nothing.'

'Really?'

'Nothing at all,' Hawkes repeated. 'Other than claiming to be my legal representation.'

Taylor frowned. 'He didn't tell you anything at all?'

Hawkes managed a small smile. 'You sound like Mac.'

Taylor's frown deepened. 'What do you mean by that?'

'He was here this morning asking the same question.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'I beg your pardon?'

'He came to see me this morning,' Hawkes repeated himself, carefully – Taylor looked like she was about to explode.

'He. Was. Here?' Taylor asked, trying to keep her temper under control.

Hawkes nodded slowly.

'What the _hell_ is going on?' she exclaimed.

Hawkes shrugged. 'Can't say I'm being told much in here.'

'Sheldon, I think I need to go and see Mac.' She glanced over at Maddy. 'Look, someone's watching over you, you know.'

Hawkes sighed as Taylor disappeared. 'It really doesn't feel like it.'

----------------------------------

It took another hour to get back, and by the time she did, Taylor was fuming. She stormed up the steps so fast that she almost barged into Flack.

'What are you doing here?' he asked her, surprised.

Taylor stopped and looked up. 'Helping. Or at least trying,' she told him.

'You're supposed to be with Hawkes.'

'Yes, well, Mac was sending me out on a little goose chase, and I'm going to find out why,' she told him, angrily.

Flack sighed and pulled her to one side, out of the way. 'It wasn't exactly him who sent you,' he admitted.

Taylor looked at him in disbelief. 'He came in and asked for a favour… oh,' she realised. 'It was _you_?'

Flack nodded, slowly, hoisting the papers he was carrying, up. 'Yeah.'

'Why?!' Taylor exploded.

'Because Casey made contact, okay,' he told her.

'But I could have helped,' Taylor told him.

'Taylor, you are not a cop,' Flack shot at her. 'Look at who and how Casey has been killing, _framing_. If you'd have been around, you would have ended up at that hotel, and best case scenario, we'd just be looking at a hostage situation.'

'I wouldn't have gone,' Taylor retorted.

Flack just shot her a pointed look.

'Yeah, alright,' Taylor admitted. 'I would have. But that's not the point.'

'What's not the point, Taylor? The fact that I want to keep you safe? The fact that I promised your niece Casey wasn't going to hurt her.'

Taylor looked at him, confounded. 'Cordelia? Do you really think I was going to pull her out of school and take her along to meet a psychotic serial killer?'

'Taylor!' Flack exclaimed, exasperated. 'You get hurt and she looses _another_ mother figure. Do you not think that's going to hurt her?'

Taylor felt the frustration leave her like someone had undone a balloon. 'Oh,' she muttered, sagging slightly. 'I hadn't thought about that.'

'I know,' Flack sighed. 'But you're going to have to start doing. Cordelia is part of our life now. It's not just me who's going to miss you.'

Taylor glared at him. 'I _so_ want to be mad at you right now. What are you doing?' she nodded at the papers.

Flack bit back a smile. 'Heading out to canvas the area. I've just sent pictures out to the stations and airports, but I'm going to head back to the hotel – someone might have seen him. What about you?'

Taylor scoffed. 'Oh, I'm still going to yell at Mac – for doing your dirty work.'

Flack smiled. 'Later, Taylor.'

By the time Taylor made it upstairs, she had lost the will to yell at Mac – she had begrudgingly admitted that Flack had been right. She back to the computer she had been working on early and brought the article up she had written all those years ago. (She had told the ghost that waving a ring in her face wasn't helping, and she was ignoring him until he gave her something else to go on. So now, he was stood with Aiden, glaring at her.)

'Flack's got photos of Casey at airports and train stations, and he's also notifying the Jersey State Police,' Danny's voice carried in.

Stella walked into the room, a little ahead of Mac and Danny. 'Shane left his cell phone on. We should be able to narrow down his location.' She smiled at Taylor and headed to the other computer. She hit a few keys and brought a map up. 'Okay, right now he's still in Manhattan.'

Danny looked over at the map. 'He knows we're looking for him, so why's he keeping his cell phone on so we can track him?'

Mac shrugged. 'He wants us to find him. He's playing a game.' He walked over to Taylor's computer and looked at the screen. 'That's his brother's case?'

Taylor nodded. 'Yeah, this is a picture of the bartender he shot. Eyewitness testimony, no physical evidence, jury deliberated fifteen minutes and convicted Ian Casey of murder.'

Danny looked over and did a double take. 'Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. That's the ring. The one Peeping Tom found in the peepshow booth.'

Taylor frowned and squinted at the screen. She then turned and looked at the ring the ghost was waving so eloquently at her on his middle finger. 'Whatever prescription you have, I want it,' Taylor muttered. 'That's the same ring.'

Stella leant over and brought up a zoomed in image of the ring. 'What's the bartender's ring doing next to the dead junkie?'

'Guys?' Lindsay walked into the room. 'You're not going to believe this. Kendall just told me that the gunshot residue in the wound of Kelly Jones is a mach to the residue we found in the nose of the peepshow junkie.'

'So you're telling me the both of these cases are connected?' Danny asked.

'He's not going to stop,' the semi naked ghost nodded solemnly. 

'The nearly naked body, the peepshow guy, is the shooter?' Taylor asked, surprised.

Both Mac and the ghost nodded. 'African American, 5 foot 9, dark hair, dark eyes. Perfect description of Sheldon Hawkes.'

Danny slumped into the chair next to Taylor. 'And Casey set it all up.'

Stella nodded. 'And all he needed was to find someone crazy enough to go along with it.'

Taylor looked over at the ghost. 'Or desperate enough,' she muttered.

Danny scowled, looking completely disgusted. 'Sick bastard was willing to kill an innocent girl for a nickel bag.'

'Casey planned every detail,' Mac added. 'He takes the money from the robbery, heads to where he knows Hawkes is going to be jogging; makes the transfer'

Taylor looked at them. 'So can't we take this to Internal Affairs? Surely there's a chance that the charges against Hawkes will be dropped?'

Stella shook her head. 'Sid could only find GSR on the peepshow vic's nose, not on his hands. We can't prove that he was the shooter.'

'Prints on the gun might,' Lindsay suggested.

Mac nodded his agreement. 'Prints on the casing still in the gun might.'

Taylor looked at them, puzzled. 'So surely, all we need to do is find the murder weapon?'

Mac looked at her. 'Yes. And Shane Casey has it.'

'Oh,' Taylor sighed as the computer Stella had been using to track Casey's cell phone burst into life. 

The five of them looked over. 'He's at 148 Seely Street,' Stella announced.

Taylor cocked her head and pointed at her own screen. 'That's the scene of the crime. The Old English Ale House. That's the bar where his brother shot the bartender.'

There was another beeping, and this time a message popped up on Stella's screen. 'I know a thing or two about going to bat for your brother,' Stella read aloud.

Danny frowned. 'That's what I said to him.'

Mac nodded. 'He wants you to prove his brother's innocence. But we just found the evidence that proves his guilt. That ring.'

The computer beeped again, this time producing a new message: S_end Messer. Alone._

'Let's get going then,' Taylor declared, jumping to her feet.

'You're not coming,' Stella told her.

'Don't you have somewhere to be, anyway?' Danny asked her.

'What? Like, oh, Rikers?' Taylor asked, sending a pointed look in Mac's direction.

'No, like school,' said Danny. 'Cordelia?'

Taylor glanced at her watch and swore. 'What is so difficult about remembering a seven year old,' she muttered to herself as she walked out of the door.

------------------------------------

It was some unearthly hour in the morning when Flack rolled in, half conscious of the fact that, being so late, he would probably be better of heading to his own apartment, rather than Taylor's. But on the other hand, he reasoned, Taylor would have killed him if he hadn't have woken her and let her know what had happened.

As it transpired, Taylor was anything but asleep and pretty much pounced on him as soon as he walked in through the door.

'Well?' she demanded.

'You are aware it's nearly three, aren't you?' Flack asked.

'Yeah, and I have been waiting for _12_ hours for _someone_ to call me and let me know what's happened. I swear, it's like the crime lab was swallowed up into a black hole, void of any cellular service!' she exclaimed.

'All charges were dropped, and Hawkes was released a few hours ago.'

'And what about Casey?'

'In Rikers, personally escorted by myself and Mac – which is why I'm back so late. We didn't want another rookie babysitting him. But I don't think he was going to run.'

Taylor let out a long sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted. 'The ghost came to see me earlier. His name was Jason Carter. I text Stella, but she didn't reply.'

'I think she was picking Hawkes up from Rikers,' Flack told her.

'So someone got him?' Taylor asked, breathing a sigh of relief. 'I should call him.'

Flack shook his head. 'He's probably tucked up in his own bed. It is three.' He yawned. 'Speaking of; I think that's a very good idea!'

* * *

_This is happy Axellia - this is my first day off in 10!! (I know, I can hardly believe it either!) And the best bit is that there are two days of the year the place is completely closed and this is one of them, so I can't get called in!! The house, however, needs tidying (:c)_

_Happy Easter, y'all... and if you don't celebrate Easter... well, I hope you have a good weekend!_


	164. I don't worry because everything's gonna

_Forest Angel - Hello and welcome! I've tried hard to keep her as 'human' as possible, although I do realise that there are parts where I've failed at that (but hey, I'm only human, lol) Tay's appeared in some cracking stories, so I'm thrilled you decided to give mine a chance - thank you!_

_demolished-soul - Flack always seemed so sympathetic to those who have been struggling with something (not necesarily murdered relatives) in the show, and I figured he would be slightly more receptive. I loved that part too (althought that wasn't who I was expecting to appear!)_

_sparkyCSI - lol, there really is no rush on those chapters - I know I bombarded you (and I may have a few more to send your way by Tuesday!) Yay for Hawkes being out - lol! Maddy can stop moping long enough and then she's gonna have a shock when I give Hawkes a girlfriend!_

_meadow567 - I know - they're so few and far between these days, and yet I somehow have acquired tomorrow off too, which makes me very happy!_

_Aphina - lol, I've never actually broken anything, but my friend who did was always trying to poke something under the plaster because it itched like mad! Here's more for ya... two more!_

_miss wizard of oz - Nope, you're about to find out (and yes, I can be that cruel) The dishes got half done... which means I'm gonna have to finish them at some point. Boo._

_Madison Bellows - I'm glad you enjoyed, and Happy Easter again! Lol, am i doing that thing again where what I'm writing is actually funny but I don't realise it?_

_At this point, I need to really shout out a HUGE thanks to my beta sparkyCSI - I disappeared of the face of the planet for a few weeks and then bombard her with, what? A good ten or so chapters?!  So, thanks, girl!_

_The muses demanded fluff.  To be fair, they had a point.  I've put the guys through quite a bit, and I've certainly not finished there...!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 163: I don't worry because everything's gonna be alright**

Taylor rolled over, surprised to find the other side of the bed, not only empty. Peeking her eyes open only confirmed that fact. She yawned and sat upright, listening. Nothing.

With a frown, she pulled back the covers and stepped out of bed, across the room to her door. It was ten am on a Saturday, and not only was there no Flack, there was no Cordelia and no Wilbur either. Still frowning, Taylor headed into the kitchen and then spotted the calendar on the fridge.

Circled with a big red marker was the day's date. Inside the circle were two words. _Coney Island._

Taylor smiled, feeling relieved. She had completely forgotten. A while back, Flack had suggested that the three of them (well, four, including Wilbur) should do something. This weekend it was fish, and the week after it was pigs (sadly, minus Taylor who had a meeting.

At that moment, Flack stepped in through the door, dressed in shorts and an NYPD t-shirt, followed by a smiling Cordelia. 'Good. You're up.'

'Lunch is sorted?'

Flack nodded. 'There should be enough sandwiches. I headed to the deli and got a few of their chicken pastrami subs. I got some cheese ones for you,' he added.

'Thank goodness,' Taylor sighed. 'Give me half an hour,' she told him, before dashing off for a shower.

Half an hour later, she was ready: running shoes, short shorts, the new top, and hair in braided plaits hidden under a cap.

'Is that mine?' Flack asked her, eyeing the PD cap on her still damp hair.

'Absolutely not,' she grinned, bouncing past him, out of the apartment.

It took a while to get there, what with the subway being so packed, but finally they were queuing for their tickets to the New York Aquarium. 'Maybe we can head to the rides later,' he told Cordelia who was watching two seagulls fight over a hotdog. '_Maybe_ get a hot dog for dinner?'

Taylor eyed the bulging bag of food in amusement. 'Didn't you buy enough there?'

Flack turned. 'You can suggest you're going to deprive me of one of Nathan's Famous?'

'I am not going to do any such thing,' Taylor told him. 'We'll head over there later,' she said, trying to fight back the amused grin. The guy could eat!

'Can we go see the octopuses?' Cordelia asked as they walked in.

'Octopi,' Taylor muttered as she put her card back into her purse.

Flack smiled. 'We can go straight there.'

'Neither her mother or her grandmother did anything like this,' Flack told her as they watched Cordelia, who was staring in amazement at the sea horses.

Taylor smiled sadly. 'I wish I could say I was surprised.'

'I was thinking that maybe we could take her to see a musical?'

Taylor looked up at him and pouted. 'Why do I get the feeling you want to do more with her than me?'

Flack laughed. 'Paranoid much? I was just thinking that she may like to go once she hears that I'm taking you Thursday night.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'I'm sorry – _what_?'

'_Wicked_,' Flack shrugged.

Taylor stared. '_You_ want to go to a musical? What's the catch?'

'Nothing!' he objected.

Taylor just stared at him. 'Don, you have never expressed an interest in musicals.'

'Fine,' he shrugged. 'I just felt that you've had a lot to deal with recently. That maybe you'd like to be spoilt for an evening?'

'I don't think I tell you enough how much I love you,' Taylor sighed as she kissed him.

'I think Cordy is ready to move on from the seahorses.'

By Thursday night, Taylor was still feeling relaxed, despite the ghost visit she had incurred. Cordelia was still talking about the trip to the aquarium, and Flack was suggesting that maybe they could get her an aquarium of her own. Without the octopi and sea lions she had fed and fallen in love with.

Taylor had spent the day pottering around the house, pretty much waiting for Flack to get back from work. Cordelia was still at school, but, according to Flack, Danny was picking her and Ruben up and having them both for the evening – including Wilbur!

It was still sweltering outside, despite the fact that it was verging on the beginning of October. Taylor moved away from the window where she had been staring down at the sun-bleached city. The weather was defying everything the weather experts had predicted.

Taylor pulled back her hair into a sleek ponytail and wandered into the living room to wait. Flack appeared a few minutes later, muttered quick apologies, and disappeared into the bedroom. Four hours later, they were walking out of one of the Gershwin Theatre, Taylor singing random lines (incorrectly) under her breath.

'I want to be on Broadway,' Taylor muttered. 'It looks like fun.'

'With your voice, you could be headlining,' Flack told her, grinning.

Taylor pouted, punching his arm. 'Hey!' she objected. 'I am not _that_ bad.'

'Of course not,' he smiled as he draped his arm over her shoulder. 'Come on,' he told her, pulling her towards her. 'Damn encores.'

'What's the rush?'

'Food,' Flack shrugged.

'And what culinary delight are we going for this evening?' Taylor asked, trying not to laugh at Flack's need for food. It didn't matter that he had been snacking all the way through the show.

'Actually, it's only pizza,' he shrugged, pulling her in the direction of the originally named _Luigi's_, hidden away just off Broadway.

This time, Taylor did laugh, but allowed him to lead her through the throngs of people to the little pizzeria.

It didn't take long for the margarita pizza to arrive, and there was silence at the table whilst Flack wolfed down a couple of slices. Finally, he spoke. 'You look a bit happier.'

Taylor put the pizza down and swallowed. 'What do you mean?'

'These past few weeks, you've been a little…' Flack frowned, choosing his words. 'Distracted.'

'Two of my friends were arrested, and I became an overnight parent,' Taylor said, her nose wrinkling slightly as stared at him in confusion.

'I don't mean it badly,' he shrugged. 'But, and I know this is probably gonna scare you, but I know you more than you think I do, Tay.'

The frown intensified. 'What?'

'Taylor,' he said gently. 'I know that you have been to the funeral of every ghost that you've ever helped. Including that guy who broke in to your apartment.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'How?' she managed, although spluttering somewhat.

'I told ya. I know you more than ya think.' He leant over and grabbed her hand. 'And don't think I haven't noticed that you've spent more hours sleeping on that couch than you have in bed.'

Taylor felt her cheeks warm and looked away.

'I'm not getting at you,' he said softly. 'I'm just worried about you.'

'I'm fine,' Taylor told him.

'I think you think that,' Flack said. 'But in reality, I think you need to talk to me. Or someone,' he suggested. 'I can guarantee you the apocalypse isn't coming if you do.'

Taylor looked at him in puzzlement at his choice of words. 'What do you mean by that?' she asked as she poked at the slice of semi eaten pizza.

Flack chuckled. 'Noah's Ark.'

'You've lost me,' Taylor told him.

'That call out I got the other night – turns out it was to a DB called Noah. He had an ark in his garden. There were even giraffes in it.'

Taylor snorted. 'An ark? It hasn't rained in at least five months,' she laughed. 'They keep saying it's going to rain and it never does.'

'That's exactly what I told them.'

'Them?' Taylor asked.

'Oh, the couples in the ark who were waiting for the heavens to open.'

Taylor sat back and stared out of the window at the darkened streets thoughtfully. 'It's a sad world when people are building a boat waiting for the end of the world.'

'The guy was a loony, Taylor,' Flack reassured her. 'I've told you, the heat brings out the loonies.'

'Maybe so, but they had a reason for believing it.'

'Are you ready for the pig farm this weekend?' Taylor asked Flack as the two of them were walking lazily home.

Flack nodded. 'We may end up being a non-pork family.'

Taylor looked up at him. 'Don, if it wouldn't contaminate a crime scene, you'd be eating at it.'

'Yeah, but my dog don't have a face.'

'It probably had fifteen of them,' Taylor muttered under her breath.

Flack stopped suddenly – and as he was holding onto her hand, so did she. 'What are you saying, Miss Turner?'

Taylor looked innocently up at him. '_You _will eat _anything_.'

'Not _anything_,' he shrugged nonchalantly.

'Yeah, you will,' Taylor told him.

Flack shook his head. 'I won't eat your cooking,' he told her, before leaping backwards to dodge the hand which was aiming for his arm.

Taylor opened her mouth to voice a, somewhat, cuss-ridden response, only to have it drowned out by a rumble of thunder. The pair froze and looked up into the sky in disbelief as large, fat drops of water began to fall heavily from the sky.

'You've gotta be kidding!' Flack exclaimed in disbelief as the sidewalk began steaming as the raindrops hit the still warm ground.

Taylor let out a small yelp as one of the drops fell on her bare back. 'Come on,' she yelled, grabbing Flack's hand and dragging him hurriedly in the direction of home.

They had managed to get virtually all the way back to Taylor's apartment until Flack again stopped suddenly. As he was still holding Taylor's hand, she too stopped suddenly and went flying backwards into Flack's chest. 'What-?' she started, only to have the sentence finished for her by Flack pressing his lips to hers.

'I guess there is an apocalypse coming,' Taylor murmured breathlessly when they broke apart.

'Only in your apartment,' he grinned as Taylor rolled her eyes.

He was right in more ways than one.

* * *

_Yes... this is a short chapter... which is why I'm posting a second one... which in reality is shorter than this one, but never mind!_


	165. I'll be there when your heart stops

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 164: I'll be there when your heart stops beating**

Taylor awoke early to the sound of rain falling heavily against the fire escape outside her window. Clearly, it was going to rain for as long as it had been hot and sunny. She stretched her legs out, wriggling her toes and rolled over onto her side, staring at Flack.

He was lying on his back, his mouth slightly open as he snored softly. He had to be up soon anyway, she figured as a grin crossed her lips.

Gently, she began tracing her fingers over his chest, over the top of his wife beater. Still asleep, his hand tried to waft hers away. Finally, his hand grabbed hers, and pulled her to him so she was unable to move.

She frowned, tapping her fingers against his abdomen impatiently. Then she wriggled herself so she was propped up on her free arm, and leant over to blow on his ear. When that didn't actually do _anything_, she growled and leant further over to nibble on his ear lobe.

A small groan escaped Flack's lips. Taylor smiled as she began to move her lips to his neck. The hand gripping hers relaxed as another moan was emitted from him. Still kissing his neck, she slid her body so she was sitting on him; his back arched in greeting.

'Taylor,' he groaned huskily. 'What are you doing?'

'Playing alarm clock.'

Flack peeked an eye open. 'Has anyone told you recently you're a very strange woman?'

Taylor looked up. 'You complaining?'

'Hell no. But I will be if you don't finish what you started.'

* * *

He didn't care, but she was a very bad alarm clock. Thankfully, he and Cordelia didn't have to be at the farm at a set time – she was just waiting patiently on the couch, fully dressed, with Wilbur by her side – which made him feel slightly guilty.

Taylor waved them off and then got ready herself before walking the short journey to the _New York Daily's_ building.

Taylor walked into Alex's office and sat down heavily. He glanced up from the computer screen, without pausing in his writing and smiled warmly. 'Long time no see,' he greeted her.

Taylor smiled back. 'Kids. They take up so much time.'

'Tell me about it,' he muttered, glancing at the pictures of his own daughter which adorned his desk.

'The ex still giving you a hard time?' she asked him.

Alex finished up what he was working on and settled back into his chair. He nodded. 'I swear that woman is out to give me a heart attack. But we're not here to talk about her. Lord knows she gets enough of my time as it is. Let's talk about you and your column.'

Taylor settled back, pulling a notebook and pen out of her bag. 'Shoot.'

Alex shook his head, smiling. 'I'm thinking a five part spread on fraud.'

Taylor nodded, taking down notes. An hour later, they had the next ten issues planned out and Alex was confident with what was coming up.

'So how are you finding being a mother?'

'I don't know,' Taylor responded, slowly. 'She's fine with Don, she's settled straight into school, heck, she has found herself a best friend, who is probably going to end up being her high-school sweetheart.'

'But?'

Taylor sighed. 'Nothing. It's just my paranoia setting in. To be honest, I think she just needs her own, real, space. Rather than staying in Marty's room, she needs her own.'

'I thought she was only going to be staying a few months?'

Taylor nodded. 'Yeah, but I still can't… it's not fair on her, and it's not fair on Marty, who has to be kicked out of his room. And house hunting is becoming a nightmare. Everywhere is just… wrong.'

Alex leant forward, clasping his hands together and rested his chin on them, fixing his green eyes on her. 'I own a property.'

Taylor arched her eyebrows, wondering where he was heading with this revelation.

'It used to be my nephew's, but after his son died, I bought it off him so he could get out of the city,' he laughed loudly. 'My ex always did tell me I had more money than sense. Anyway, the apartment has been empty for the past two years – I kept meaning to get it renovated after the fire, but I never did. It needs some work doing to it, but if you like it, you can have it. Rent controlled, of course.'

Taylor just gaped at him.

'It's still on the island, but on the upper East Side. I guess you'd have to get up a little earlier to get Cordelia to school, but I think it would be doable.'

Taylor smiled sadly, shaking her head. 'I couldn't. But thank you.'

Alex nodded. 'I figured you would say that. If you change your mind, then let me know.' He glanced down at his clock. 'Isn't it time for you to be going?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Don's taken her upstate to some Pig Farm. She has an obsession with the animal.'

Alex cocked his head. 'You know, you could have rescheduled the meeting to another day.'

Taylor returned the gesture. 'Until after the three week vacation you have booked in the Seychelles - the flight leaves tomorrow morning?'

'Good point. Now get out of here, get home, and don't forget dinner.'

Taylor gave him a grin and gathered up her stuff, walking out. Outside it was still raining. She pulled her collar up and rooted around in her bag for her umbrella before heading home.

* * *

She was a block away when a fire engine went hurtling past, sirens blazing, hitting the heavily draining water, sending a wave over her. Feeling no further need for the umbrella, she shoved it in her bag with a growl, deciding then and there that she was going to sink into a bubble bath and not get out until Flack and Cordelia arrived back, assuming they weren't back already – it was getting late.

She turned the last corner.

And her heart stopped beating.

The fire engine had stopped outside her apartment block and was battling with large flames that she could see glowing inside the window. She quickly counted the windows up, and her heart stopped for the second time as she realised that their source was her apartment.

The panic squeezed at her stomach as she scrambled around in her bag looking desperately for her phone. Pulling it out, she frantically began dialling Flack's cell, praying he would answer. Which was when two of the windows in her apartment blew out, sending glass flying.

Taylor was running over, blind panic setting in as she tried desperately to gain entry into the building.

_There had to be another reason as to why she was only getting Flack's voicemail!_

* * *

_And I bet you thought I was kidding when I said it was a short chapter!_


	166. Live through this, and you won't look

_Aphina - Yes, I am indeed evil. I'd like to pretend I get nicer, but in reality, I don't!_

_laplandgurl - it had to end there - I felt I hadn't had a good cliff hanger in a while! Sadly, I'm not about to be nice to Miss Turner!_

_The Corrupter - Hello again! To be honest, there are that many songs I can't remember which lyric came from where (but I think you're on the right track with most.) I have been told I'm funny - I just don't really think I am! But thank you, and I'm glad you caought up._

_RK9 - No, it's punishment! lol. You were missed, but that's been planned... and written, for a while!_

_demolished-soul - It is arson. And you're right about the apartment, although I wasn't thinking of the irony_

_sparkyCSI - To be honest, I had never even heard of Wicked - I was just trawling through some websites and happened upon it._

_Madison Bellows - lol, I'm sorry. I know I'm evil!_

_meadow567 - No, I'm evil, but not that evil (yet anyway). Sadly, the best Hull has in the way of pizza places is Pizza Hut, so I couldn't really comment... although I do fancy pizza now!_

_miss wizard of oz - (:P) Yup, I hold my hands up and admit to that quite willingly. And I need to get myself back into a regular updating pattern, I know!_

_Okely dokely - no spoilers... this is all just my craziness. I do have big thanks to my beta, though!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 165: Live through this, and you won't look back… **

Mac and Stella found her seated on the edge of the sidewalk, across the street, a short while later, staring up at the now smoking apartment.

'Taylor? You're alright?' Stella cried, setting her box down next to her.

Taylor leapt to her feet, revived at the sound of the metal hitting the ground. 'He's not answering his phone, Stell,' she cried as the tears she had been crying continued to disappear in the pouring rain. 'I can't get through to him.'

'Who?' Stella asked her.

'Don!' she exclaimed somewhat hysterically.

Stella looked over at Mac, who pulled out his own phone, calling dispatch, whilst Stella tried to calm Taylor down.

'He's fine,' Mac reported back, a few minutes later. 'Dispatch says he's stuck on the JFK – multi-car pile up. He'll be back soon.'

Taylor let out a sob of relief.

'Taylor, you're drenched. And freezing!' Stella exclaimed.

'I thought they were in there!' Taylor sobbed.

'Come on,' Stella sighed, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. 'We're going to get you somewhere warm, and get some coffee down you.'

Taylor nodded numbly and allowed herself to be led to the small diner across the street to her apartment. Soon, the pair was seated in one of the booths, Taylor nursing a coffee as she watched the firemen moving in and out of her apartment building.

'What are you doing here?' Taylor mumbled.

'We had a call out to a suspected arson,' Stella admitted.

'Arson?' Taylor repeated. '_Arson?_'

Stella reached out and patted her hand. '_Suspected_ arson.'

'Who would want to torch my apartment?'

'Look, it may not bring you much comfort, but, Don's arrested a lot of people.'

'Don!' Taylor cried.

Stella opened her mouth to reassure her, only Taylor was up on her feet and charging out the door. Stella swung around and the spotted what Taylor had: her car pulling up just down the street.

Flack was barely out of the door before Taylor was launching herself at him, virtually crushing the air out of him as she wrapped her arms around him. 'Oh thank God,' she muttered, before turning and enveloping Cordelia in the same bone-crushing hug.

'What happened?' Flack asked as Taylor turned her attention back to him.

Taylor pulled back from the embrace and looked up at him. Her eyes flashed as she punched his arm. 'How _dare_ you not answer your phone!' she snapped as she punched him again.

'The rain's bought a few masts,' Flack explained, patiently as the weather let out an enormous rumble of thunder as if to confirm his story.

'I don't care! I thought you were in there!' she cried.

'We're okay,' Flack told her softly. 'We're all okay.' He pulled her to him, stroking her soaking hair.

Taylor pulled away when she felt him stiffen underneath her. She looked away to find his father, clad in a grey suit, making his way towards them underneath a large umbrella.

'Dad,' Flack greeted him, shortly.

'Son,' he returned with a curt nod of his head.

'Why are you here?' Flack asked him bluntly.

Sergeant Flack Sr. sniffed. Instead of responding, he turned his attention to Taylor. 'Taylor Turner?'

'We've met,' Taylor pointed out dryly. 'On several occasions.' She folded her arms and squared up to him. 'You know perfectly well who I am.'

'Taylor Turner, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will appointed to you. Do you understand?' His question was almost drowned out by another roar of thunder.

Taylor gaped at him, mouth hanging open. And then she snorted. 'What's this? Number three on the _101 ways to break up your son from the person he's seeing_ list?' she asked, starting to laugh. Until a uniformed officer clamped surprisingly cold handcuffs onto her wrist, bringing her arm behind her back.

Flack watched as Taylor was bundled into the back of the car. And then he burst into life. 'Hey!' he shouted loudly, his face as black as thunder as he stormed after his father who was heading towards his own car. 'Hey! What the _hell_ is going on?'

Sgt. Flack turned and frowned back at his son. 'That is no way to address your father, never mind a superior officer.'

'That's no way to treat my girlfriend,' he snapped back.

Despite being twenty-something years his senior, when standing side by side, mood matching each other, it was clear that the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree. Although Flack Sr. was somewhat greyer, with more lines around the eyes, he was just as tall, and carried himself as well as his son. 'You're girlfriend is a criminal, Donnie.'

'What does that mean?' Flack snapped back.

Sgt. Flack eyed him back from under the safety of his umbrella. 'Mac Taylor found cocaine with an approximate street value of fifteen thousand dollars stashed in her walls.'

Flack gaped at him. 'Well it's not hers, and even if it was, what's that got to do with you? You're IAB!'

'Yes, and she's living in the same apartment is an NYPD detective, and an NYPD ME? That makes it my business. And if I were you, Donnie, I would head back home whilst I try to keep this woman from ruining your reputation.' The elder Flack put his umbrella down and got into the car.

Flack watched him drive off before turning on his heel and storming back over to Stella and Cordelia.

'Where's Taylor gone?' Cordelia asked. 'And where's Wilbur?'

Flack froze and looked up at Stella. 'We left him in the apartment,' he muttered.

'I'm sorry, Cordelia,' Mac said, appearing next to them. 'Wilbur didn't make it.'

Cordelia stared up at him. Slowly the words seemed to register and with a loud wail, she launched herself at Flack.

'What in hell's name happened here?' Danny asked, joining them, although his attention was on the firemen who were rolling their hoses back up. 'Did Drew decide to cook dinner?' He fell silent as he finally faced the others, noticing their sombre faces. 'Is she alright?'

'She's been arrested,' Stella sighed.

Danny looked around. 'Since when was it a crime to burn your apartment down?' he frowned. 'Well, you know what I mean.'

'It's a little more complicated than that,' Flack muttered, nodding his head in Cordelia's direction.

Danny crouched down beside her. 'Why the tears, pretty lady?' At louder sobbing, he looked up at Flack.

'We left Wilbur at home.'

'Oh,' Danny mouthed. 'Will somebody fill me in here?'

Stella quickly pulled him to the side and caught him up, out of earshot of the girl. 'I think Cordelia is the only think stopping Don from loosing his mind right now,' Stella added.

Danny looked over at his friend who had finally moved himself and Cordelia to the shelter of a building and was comforting her. 'His _father_?'

Stella nodded.

Danny sighed. 'Okay, let me call Rikki. I'm sure she'll take Cordelia for a few days. We can send Flack out to hers whilst we get to the bottom of this.'

Stella cocked her head as a small smile embraced her lips.

'What?' Danny asked, puzzled.

'Nothing,' she said, still smiling softly.

* * *

The sound of the door opening made Taylor raise her head from where it had been slumped on the table – arms dangling beside her with her forehead resting on the shiny surface.

She had still been half convinced that the whole ting was an elaborate ruse… until she had been led to booking, photographed, finger-printed, and her mouth swabbed. Which was when she had been led to the interview room and left alone to shiver in the cold room, her hair still wet, the only company from the uniformed officer she didn't recognise and refused to talk to her.

The person who had opened the door, was the same person who had left her waiting for two hours. Sergeant Donald Flack.

Taylor ran a hand through her damp hair and frowned. 'So why exactly have I been arrested? And more importantly, why did we deem it necessary to have me arrested by Internal Affairs? I don't even work here!'

Sgt. Flack seated himself opposite her, laid a manila folder squarely in front of him, and fixed her with a stare that was uncannily reminiscent of his son's. He inhaled slowly and then carefully slid out a photograph. 'Do you know what this is Ms. Turner?'

Taylor stared back at him, suddenly finding herself not so attracted to Flack's eyes, and glanced down at the photograph. There was a twinge in her stomach as she stared down at the charred remains of what was once her apartment. 'That's my bedroom,' she told him, keeping her voice even.

'And do you know what this is?' he continued, this time pulling out a picture of what looked like white bricks wrapped in cellophane.

'Drugs?' she offered. 'Cocaine, maybe?'

'You can tell that from a picture?' Sgt. Flack asked her, a slight smirk on his face.

Taylor shrugged, wondering what he was getting at. 'Let's see, option a, I've watched too many episodes of _Law and Order_, or option b, I live with a cop.'

'How about option c?' Sgt. Flack asked.

Taylor sighed, running her tongue over her lips. 'And what would option c be?'

'It belongs to you.'

Taylor snorted. 'Hardly.'

Sgt. Flack settled back into his chair. 'It's funny you should say that, but whilst Detective Taylor was investigating the source of the fire, he found this, hidden in a wall.'

Taylor frowned, staring at the latest picture of at least three cellophane blocks in a burnt wall. 'That's not mine,' she told him. 'Check the bag for fingerprints – that will tell you, surely?'

'It's funny you should say that,' Sgt. Flack told her. 'Because there aren't any prints on it and it would appear that someone has wiped the bag down.'

Taylor continued to stare at the photograph. 'That's not mine,' she repeated, too shocked to formulate anything else.


	167. You're worse than Hannibal Lecter

_sparkyCSI - I never meant to make Mr Flack this evil! I'm going to blame my muses! lol. Loved the email - half of it, anyway... Flunk!_

_demolished-soul - Nah, he's sticking around for a few chapters, but the next time he's back, he will be mellowing out. I must admit, I am being cruel at the moment (:s)_

_meadow567 - hmmm, I am baffled! Sorry about that! But no, she's not off to prison!_

_Thoren - (:P) I'd certainly have better uses for those cuffs. Ah, a stuffed pig - now that's an idea!_

_Forest Angel - That one kinda came out of nowhere for me (although I admit the chapter was written a while ago, but at the time, it was out of nowhere!) _

_miss wizard of oz - kill him off? I'm tempted - I think he ended up being too nasty! lol. I'm tempted_

_Madison Bellows - By all means - make him as evil as you want! lol And then let me know how you sorted him out!!_

_laplandgurl - Well, part of that is right, and you're not hijacking anything - although I would willingly give them up for a while. I haven't been able to stop writing!_

_Mauradingknight - He he he, I still have an element of surprise in me somewhere! lol_

_Aphina - I thnk I'm being _really_ cruel at the minute. It will all get better, eventually! It has too. (I think my life is reflecting my writing so I know it _has_ to get better, for my own sanity... not that I've been arrested by my potential father-in-law... just the mood I'm in!)_

_RK9 - Um, okay - here's another chapter - please don't hit me!_

_No spoilers, just a brilliant beta!_

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 166: You're worse than Hannibal Lecter, Charlie Manson, Freddie Krueger**

Lindsay raked her hands through her hair, biting her lip as she stared down at the four identical documents in front of her. Her mind was telling her this couldn't be happening for a third time, but the four documents in bold, black ink were telling her otherwise. Knowing that running the test for a fifth time wouldn't generate a different result, she gathered up the documents and headed down the corridor to another lab.

'Gasoline,' Danny told her as she entered. 'It was definitely arson.' At her lack of response, he pulled his glasses down from his forehead and stared at her, frowning. 'What?'

'I think we may be in trouble,' she said, before quickly correcting herself. 'I think Taylor may be in trouble.'

'What've got?' Danny asked her, still frowning.

'I uh… I ran a breakdown on the cocaine and ran it through the database to see if matched anything. It did.'

Danny stared at her. She was flushed and definitely concerned; which was worrying him immensely. 'Whaddya got?' he asked her again.

'There was a drugs bust a while back. According to intel, half of the shipment was never seized.'

'And,' Danny pressed, trying not to grow impatient.

Lindsay let out an audible groan as she leant against the table. 'And in the drug bust, they arrested a large collection of members of Tanglewood and the Brooklyn Bullets. It was one of the many raids where they tried to get Sassone, and failed.' Lindsay handed over the sheets of paper, watching as Danny's lips virtually disappeared into a thin line.

'There has to be some mistake.' Danny muttered, looking at the documents.

'There is,' Sgt. Flack's voice boomed across the lab as he stormed in. 'The mistake being that you two are working this case. Although I can't say I expected anything less from you,' he said, directing the last comment at Danny as he glared down at him.

Seeing him tense up, a vein begin to pound in his temple, Lindsay slipped her hand over Danny's. 'Don't,' she whispered.

'What's going on here?' This time it was Mac who had entered the room.

'Your staff not doing their jobs properly,' Sgt. Flack informed him. 'But I wouldn't expect anything less.'

'My staff are my responsibility,' Mac informed him curtly.

'Mac, we were just-'

'Danny, Lindsay, my office,' he said, cutting Danny off. 'Now.'

With a final glare at Sgt. Flack, Danny followed Lindsay out of the lab, making sure to thrust the results in Sgt. Flack's face.

Mac watched the pair leave and then turned his attention to the senior IAB sergeant. 'I don't appreciate the disruption, nor the case being taken away. Taylor Turner does not work here, and she does not deserve Internal Affairs' involvement.'

'Taylor, I think you may be a little too involved in the case. I have told you once, and it looks like I'm going to have to tell you this again. IAB has this case, not CSI. Your involvement is not helping Miss Turner.'

Mac exhaled heavily. 'I think it's _you_ who is too involved in this case,' he retorted. 'My staff will stay away from this. I expect you to stay away from them.' He turned heavily and practically marched into his office where he walked in, slamming the door behind him. 'What were you two thinking?' he demanded.

Lindsay looked down at the ground, but Danny met Mac's intense glare. 'She may not have a badge, Mac, but she's somehow worked her way into the team, whether you acknowledge that or not.'

'Daniel Messer, do not make me assign you to desk duty,' he snapped, his eyes bulging.

'Look, Mac,' said Lindsay, speaking up. 'We know Taylor. And we know that she's not a drug dealer.'

Mac sighed, sinking into his chair. 'The problem is the evidence is mounting up. And none of it is in her favour.'

* * *

Taylor was pacing back and forth, still in the interview room, still accompanied by the same cop who was doing nothing more that watch her repetitive movements. The day was slowly progressing further and further downhill, and it was showing no signs of getting better.

The door opened and Sgt. Flack once again entered, indicating that she should sit. She did, hoping that he was bringing her better news.

He wasn't.

'So, Miss Turner, are you sure you don't want that lawyer yet?'

Taylor shook her head. 'No. Because I haven't done anything. And I know how this works because I have seen enough interviews to know.'

Sgt. Flack settled back into his chair and stared across at her.

Taylor stared back. Flack had definitely picked up a thing or two from his father.

'Well, Miss Turner. I've been having my team run various pieces of evidence, and I would like a little clarification on some of it.'

'Really?' Taylor asked as the sarcasm laced her voice. 'You mean you're not going to jump to conclusions?'

Sgt. Flack linked his fingers together, settling them on the desk in front of him. 'We ran the cocaine to see if it matches anything seized in an earlier bust.'

'And?' Taylor asked when he didn't continue.

'And we made a match. To a drug bust last November.'

'And?' Taylor repeated.

'We arrested a lot of members of the Brooklyn Bullets and the Tanglewood Boys. And according to the undercover officer, a large proportion of the drugs that should have been seized weren't. And yet here they are.'

Taylor slowly shook her head. 'Look, I don't know anything about that bust, and I don't know how those drugs appeared in my apartment. Someone has got to be setting me up,' she told him, her eyes pleading with him to believe her.

'It's funny you should say that,' he told her. That leads me to my second query. I would like you to explain something we found on your laptop.'

Taylor could feel the blood draining from her face. 'Those files are private,' she told him.

'No, those files are evidence,' he retorted.

'It's research,' she admitted.

'To take over the leadership now Sassone is in prison?'

'What?' Taylor asked in disbelief. 'No!'

'Then would you care to explain why you're researching it?'

Taylor pinched the bridge of her nose as she frowned. 'It's for a story,' she told him.

'Funny,' Sgt. Flack told her, dryly. 'Because according to your editor, he doesn't know anything about it.'

'That's because he doesn't know anything about it,' Taylor snapped.

'You make a habit of hiding things?'

That was it: the moment when Taylor lost all patience for her potential father-in-law. 'Seriously?' she snapped, the chair squealing across the tiled floor as she stood up abruptly. 'What is your problem with me?'

'Sit down,' Sgt. Flack told her, coldly.

'No,' Taylor retorted. 'This is ridiculous!'

'Sit _down_!' he bellowed at her.

Slowly, Taylor sank back into the chair, regretting losing her temper. 'Those two gangs have been popping up far too frequently,' she explained, trying to keep her voice level. 'They've been getting more and more powerful over the last few years, especially the Brooklyn Bullets, and let's face it; the police have been pretty useless. I was just trying to get as much information on them as possible. To be honest, I hadn't even thought about what I was going to do with it once I was finished. Hand it over to your son? Publish a giant exposé? I really hadn't thought.'

Sgt Flack pursed his lips before inhaling deeply. 'And how do you explain the large payments into your bank account?'

Taylor screwed up her face in confusion. 'What are you talking about?'

'The weekly payments from felons?' Sgt. Flack explained calmly.

'Oh!' Taylor breathed a sigh of relief as she worked out what he was talking about. 'That's easy. That's, well, child support. From my brother. He's in prison in California, but I'm looking after his niece. I told him it wasn't a problem, but he insisted.' She smiled at Sgt. Flack, until a smile began to creep across his lips.

'And what about the other payments?' he asked her.

The smile fell from Taylor's lips. 'What other payments?'

'From the other felon,' Sgt. Flack half explained.

Taylor shook her head. 'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

The smile grew as Sgt. Flack settled back into his chair. 'You have been receiving weekly payments of two thousand dollars for the past five months.'

Taylor's eyes practically bulged out of her head. 'I've what?!'

'We checked your finances, Miss Turner. You had an initial payment of twenty thousand dollars in May, and regular payments since. Are you telling me you didn't know about that?'

'No, I didn't,' Taylor told him, shaking her head.

'Don't you check your bank account?'

Taylor shook her head again. 'No. Not really. I get paid more than enough to cover my rent and all my bills.'

'And what about shopping?'

Taylor shrugged. 'I'm about as good with my finances as I am with cooking. I do words, not numbers. So long as I don't have a letter from the bank telling me I'm overdrawn, I don't tend to pay any attention. And as for shopping, I've had no time. What with a child, my job and all the ghosts – I barely have time to sleep. And I can tell you I certainly don't have time for criminal activities, not with the dead coming to see me left, right and centre.'

'The dead?' Sgt. Flack repeated, scathingly. 'I think it's a little too late to be trying to pull off the insanity plea.'

Taylor froze as she realised what she had said. 'Crap,' she muttered, running her hands through her hair. 'Oh crap,' she repeated softly as she realised just how much trouble she was in. 'I think it's time I made that phone call I'm entitled to.'

* * *

_Well, I have to go to work, but I will update again tonight!_


	168. Who will save me from all that I'm up

_RK9 - honestly, a new job would make me update faster! Ha ha, you can find out now who she's calling! I'm not a fan of pork - it's too dry. lol! bacon, on the otherhand..._

_Thoren - I think you're right. In more ways than one! _

_Madison Bellows - I'm about to be really nice to her (before I'm mean again) Though, I figure the story would be boring if it was happy all the time! Nope, I wouldn't feel that bad either!_

_Alana Xavier1 - I am sorting it all out in the next two chapters! I promise. Well, maybe not Sgt. Flack. It's gonna take a while for that to be sorted, simply because I turned him into a right mean bugger, and I don't think he'd be too forgiving - maybe the gladiator would be useful!_

_demolished-soul - He is, and you've hit the nail on the head. I figure he's either dead, or there's a good falling out having happened. And yeah, it's all his fault!_

_sparkyCSI - the last thing you should be worrying about is betaing - I hope your dad is alright!! Gimme an email if you need to vent! She's crap. Heck, I'm verging on as bad (mainly beacuse it's too painful to check, lol!)_

_meadow567 - I think you're right with their relationship. I know I went for a while without checking mine. Then I realised I had nothing left in them, and a load of money needed to be transfered around. She sucks. lol, I made her suck!_

_Well, I honestly had been prepared to update this last night... and then, surprise surprise - I got called into work! (Then I went to see my life in a film!) So here we go!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 167: Who will save me from all that I'm up against in this world?**

'I take it Flack's not been back yet?' Lindsay asked as she settled into a seat opposite Stella and Danny at a table in the coffee shop.

Stella shook her head. 'I convinced him to spend some time with Cordelia. Though I tell you, we're not going to have long before he's back.'

Danny nodded. 'I give it an hour maximum.'

Hawkes sighed from beside Lindsay. 'I still can't believe it.'

Danny was ready to say something when his phone rang. He frowned, pulling out of his pocket and answered it. 'Messer.'

'_Danny, I need your help!'_ Taylor's voice came down the phone.

'Taylor? What are you doing?'

'_Using my one phone call to convince you I'm not a drug dealer, a drug user, a drug supplier, a mule, a… I don't know how those drugs got in my apartment, Danny.'_

'I know that, Tay. We all do.'

Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. _'Good. Because I didn't want to waste the whole phone call on that. Look, Danny, I don't know what to do, but I think I'm in serious trouble here.'_

'What are they saying, Taylor?'

'Oh, t_hat I'm trying to take over Sassone's spot in his gang hierarchy.'_

'Sonny?!' Danny exclaimed. 'Why on earth would they have that idea.'

'_I may have been researching them,' _Taylor admitted. _'And it's also possible that I may have been to see him a few times.'_

'You _what_?!' Danny exploded. 'Do you have any idea what a stupid idea that was?'

'_You sound like your brother,'_ Taylor muttered.

'Louie knew?'

Taylor nodded, and then realising he couldn't see her, quietly admitted, _'Yes.'_

Danny sighed heavily. 'What did you see him about?' he asked her, and then realised he was talking to a dial tone. He hung up and looked at the others.

'What was that about?' Stella asked.

Danny quickly relayed Taylor's side of the conversation. 'I'm going to talk to my brother,' he declared.

Stella nodded. 'I'll find Adam and see if we can hack into her office computer.'

Lindsay bit her lip. 'I have a spare key to her apartment,' she muttered.

Danny looked sharply at her. 'You can't go in there.'

'And what if I need to pick up some clothes for Cordelia?' she shrugged. 'It's not a murder scene – the swing shift will have cleared all the evidence out by now anyway.'

'You could get into a lot of trouble,' Stella warned her.

Lindsay shrugged. 'Are you kidding? How many crime scenes has Taylor been on, and how much trouble has she been in?'

'She is being questioned at the minute,' Hawkes pointed out.

'For drug supplying,' Lindsay retorted. 'Not for being on a crime scene.'

Hawkes nodded. 'Fine. I guess that leaves me with Sassone.'

Danny shook his head. 'Nah, that guy is all mine.'

'Go together,' Stella told him.

'We're forgetting something,' Lindsay said. 'Two things, actually.'

'What?' Danny asked her.

'Mac, for one. He's going to notice that none of us are there.'

Stella sighed deeply. 'Alright, we'll have to stagger it. Danny, Sheldon. You go see Sassone first. He's going to be on a schedule – you're going to have to see him during visiting hours. We'll cover you.'

'And the official line?' Danny asked, trying hard not to smirk at Stella's rule breaking.

Stella shrugged. 'You're with Flack. We'll all be taking it in turns to check on him and Cordelia – keep him away from the precinct.'

'Mac is going to kill us,' Lindsay muttered, matter-of-factly, as the left the café.

* * *

'I wish there wasn't glass between us,' Danny muttered again, as he fidgeted whilst they waited for Sassone to grace them with his appearance.

Hawkes nodded. 'Here he is,' he said, more for something to say, as Sassone seated himself opposite.

'Well if it isn't Baby Messer,' Sassone said, mockingly. 'And to what do I owe the pleasure? Your brother been burying bodies again?'

'How do you know Taylor Turner,' Hawkes asked him quickly as he watched Danny curl his hand into a fist beside him.

'Taylor Turner?' Sonny muttered, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. 'Taylor Turner? No; no bells.'

'Quit the crap,' Danny snapped.

'Oh, yes, the journalist. I remember now,' Sonny grinned. 'She's the one that's been stealing from me.'

'Stealing what?' Danny asked through gritted teeth.

'My drugs, my men, my power,' he listed, shrugging imperturbably.

'Quit the crap,' Danny repeated.

Sonny shrugged again. 'Why do _you_ think she was here?' he asked, staring only at Danny.

Danny sighed and pulled the phone receiver away from his mouth, covering the mouth piece. Hawkes did the same. 'Gimme five minutes,' Danny requested.

'Danny-'

Danny shook his head. 'He's not going to admit to anything with you here.'

Hawkes eyes them both warily, but reluctantly agreed. 'Five minutes.'

Danny waited for him to leave before putting the phone back to his ear. 'What do you want with Taylor?'

Sonny shrugged. 'She's a means to an end, Messer.' And then he hung up.

'Hey!' Danny bellowed. 'HEY!' he repeated, slamming his fist against the glass.

* * *

Mac stepped into the elevator and rode up to the crime lab. He'd just gotten back from Rikki Sandoval's apartment, after spending the last hour talking with Flack. He'd finally convinced the detective to take Cordelia back to his apartment and get some sleep. After Flack had left, he'd politely requested that Rikki refuse to look after Cordelia – if Flack was forced to have the child, he wouldn't be able to leave her, and thus, wouldn't be in the crime lab.

He stepped off the elevator and headed to his office, spotting Stella. 'Stella,' he called her over. 'Have you seen Danny and Hawkes?'

'Oh,' Stella nodded. 'They're with Flack. Trying to keep him out of trouble.'

'Really?' Mac asked, surprised. 'I've been trying to get a hold of either of them for the past hour.'

Stella shrugged. 'They've been there a while. Maybe this storm is keeping the cell towers down.'

Mac nodded. 'Maybe.' He looked piercingly at Stella. 'When they get back, send them to me. I want them in the lab doing paperwork where I can keep an eye on them.'

Stella nodded and watched him leave before breathing a sigh of relief.

* * *

Taylor lay back on the uncomfortable bed in the cell, staring at the ceiling. Clearly, as soon as Alex had found out she had been arrested from Sgt. Flack's questioning, he had sent her a lawyer. She wasn't sure how thankful to the lawyer she should be, but she had arranged that Taylor be held overnight in the holding cells, rather than being sent to Bayview Correctional Facility.

It was about three in the morning, and it was as noisy as it was twelve hours previously. In the cell next door, two drunks were singing off the whiskey, serenading the three prostitutes in the cell on the other side of them, with their rendition of Stand By Me – completely out of tune, out of sync, and the wrong lyrics – although the prostitutes were loving it.

Taylor sighed and brought her hands up underneath her head. She wouldn't have slept, regardless of where she was. At least here, it gave her the hope that she was going to come out of this, the right side of the law. In her mind, she kept replaying all the conversations she had had with Sassone.

There was no doubt in her mind that he was behind this. The only thing she couldn't work out was when he had planted the drugs in her apartment. It had never been broken into, and she'd had no work done in it for years. Hell, even her super hadn't been in it more than a handful of times over the four years she'd been in it. And she had always been with him anyway.

She rolled over onto her side, facing the wall. To top it all off, all she had seen of her apartment, was a picture of her bedroom. If there rest of it was anything to go by… Taylor shut her eyes, trying to push the thought from her mind.

* * *

On the other side of town, Danny was pulling back the covers and heading to his door. 'I'm coming!' he yelled to the incessant banging. 'I swear to God, if that's you, Flack…' He pulled the door open. 'Lindsay?!' he asked in surprise.

'Hey,' she greeted him shyly.

'What are you doing here?' he asked, stepping aside for her to enter. 'Not that I'm not happy to see you,' he added quickly. 'But it's after three?'

'The other thing we're forgetting.'

'Huh?'

'Earlier, we were forgetting about two things. The first was Mac.'

'Oh!' Danny exclaimed as he watched her sit down. 'What?'

'Sgt. Flack.'

Danny just looked questioningly at her.

'I've been thinking it through,' Lindsay said, getting to her feet. 'He's gonna have men on that door. So I'm not going to get anywhere near the apartment to have a look around.'

'That's a good-'

Lindsay held up her hand, cutting him, before she resumed pacing. 'You need to be ready to get in there whilst they're distracted arresting me.'

'Lindsay!' Danny began to object again.

Lindsay shook her head. 'I'm the only one who Sgt. Flack really doesn't… have a problem with. He's clearly out for your and Stella's blood, for different reasons. And he's just arrested Hawkes. Which leaves me. The worst I'll get is a suspension. You three – it could cost you your jobs.'

'Linds, I can't let you do this for me,' Danny objected.

Lindsay shrugged. 'I'm doing this for Taylor. I was a bitch to her, and she still flew across the country for me.'


	169. The life has been siphoned right out of

_Madison Bellows - I can be nice, but then life puts me in a dark mood and it really reflects in the chapter. I agree with you on TPTB. And I certainly hope things are gonna get interesting - I do worry sometimes!_

_Aphina - Overworked - not sure about the brilliant, lol, but thanks. I'm hoping things that aren't suddenly appearing - I've been trying to set subtle things up for chapters!_

_meadow567 - it was over the Casey case - I altered the episode, nothing major! He didn't plant the drugs - although that would have been an interesting way to go! I hope I didin't keep you waiting too long!_

_Thoren - lol, not at all! I'm glad because sometimes I feel like I'm in the minority - I really do like Lindsay! And thank you!_

_RK9 - And again! Although the next update may be a couple of days off... Wednesday (which will be my first day off since Good Friday, and the last until... I'm not sure because I don't have next week's rotas - I just know I am working 10pm Sunday until 1pm Monday!) Mmmm, bacon! lol. Well, so long as people like you keep reading, I'll keep writing! Somehow, the ideas just keep coming!_

_HUGE thanks to my beta, sparkCSI!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 168: The life has been siphoned right out of my veins **

Mac hung up his phone and settled back into his chair. He hadn't left his office all night – Peyton had given up trying to get him to try to get some sleep, but had instead resorted to periodically keeping him supplied with caffeine (she was working the night shift). Both Gerrard and Sinclair were preventing him from getting any information on Taylor's case and it was frustrating him immensely.

It wasn't that he thought of the woman as family – he certainly didn't. And he definitely didn't consider her to be 'part of the team' like Danny did. It was more to the fact that she had helped on quite a few cases, and whereas she was often outspoken, and certainly stubborn, if she _were_ to be arrested, he expected the crime to be assault related – _not_ possession and intent to supply.

He looked up, spotting Danny and Lindsay hurrying past. Mac got to his feet and hurried over to the door, calling them in. 'I want you two in the lab,' he told them – not missing the look they shared. 'In your offices, catching up on paperwork.'

Danny nodded. 'Sure thing, Mac.'

Mac frowned, catching the time. 'Have you seen Stella?' he asked them. There was another shared look.

'She said she was checking up on Flack this morning,' Lindsay told him.

Danny nodded his agreement. 'She's been sorting his and Cordelia's breakfast,' he added.

'How is he?' Mac asked.

Danny looked at him. 'Who?'

'Flack.' Mac told him. 'You went to see him yesterday?'

'Oh,' Danny shifted on the spot. 'Not brilliant, but what can you expect?'

Mac nodded and allowed them to leave before returning to his seat, frowning. He'd been on the phone with Flack for the best part of half an hour and he hadn't mentioned Stella being there.

* * *

Stella pulled up outside the _Daily's_ building and looked over at Adam. 'You alright?'

Adam nodded. 'I just feel wrong doing this. It's more like invasion of privacy when it's someone you know.'

'You don't have to do this,' Stella pointed out.

'I know, but you did get her editor's permission, right?' Adam asked for the umpteenth time.

Stella nodded her reassurance and indicated for him to follow her. She led him to Taylor's messy office.

'Damn!' Adam exclaimed as he surveyed the piles of papers, books and notepads. 'Are we going to find a computer in here?'

Stella gave him a push and pointed at the desk.

Adam walked over and sat down in front of it. Within minutes, he was in. 'This thing is about as organized as her office,' he muttered. 'Damn!' he exclaimed.

'What?' Stella asked.

'She's encrypted her files.'

Stella nodded. 'She mentioned that. After Sinclair had his files stolen from the Bond Case.'

'You could have mentioned it sooner,' Adam told her.

'Can you decrypt it?' Stella asked, watching his fingers fly over the keyboard.

Adam nodded. 'It's a basic encryption.' There were a few more keystrokes and Adam handed over a flash drive. 'It's all on there. I'll let you read it.'

* * *

'Don't tell me – Lindsay and Danny are with Flack?' Mac asked, standing in Stella's doorway.

Stella looked up from Taylor's files she had been pouring over at her computer. 'I think they mentioned something about that,' Stella said vaguely.

'Alright,' Mac muttered, leaving.

Stella watched him go and returned to the page she was reading.

* * *

Lindsay took a deep breath and headed for Taylor's door. As her apartment was only one floor from the top, the majority of the building was still inhabitable, short of those that lived directly below her, on the same floor, or above her. The door was covered in a smoke funnel from where the smoke had tried to escape into the corridor, but was still able to be shut.

She had only gone so far as putting the key in the lock when two officers pounced, leading her away.

Danny watched her being led to the patrol car and dashed upstairs. He pushed his way in, making sure to shut the door behind him. The kitchen – the first room to walk into, short of smelling of smoke, and covered in ash, seemed reasonably alright. As Danny stepped into Taylor's bedroom – the source of the fire, his nose was assaulted by the smell of gasoline.

He set his kit down and headed over to where hole in the wall where the cocaine had been found and began taking pictures. The fire had started on the opposite wall – the one that adjoined Marty/Cordelia's room. Which couldn't just be coincidence. Danny leant over and picked up a piece of the plaster that had come away when creating the wall. It was crumbly – like it hadn't dried out properly before the wallpaper was set over it. With a frown, he turned his attention to the wallpaper.

Taylor's walls were a pale lilac, but under around near the hole, it was darker. Danny's frown deepened as he picked at a piece of plaster attached to the a piece of wallpaper. He cocked his head as he stared at the fragment, and then looked at the wall by the window – a part untouched by the fire.

If he was right, Taylor wouldn't care, and if he was wrong… well, Taylor would probably be in prison so long that it wouldn't matter.

He pulled out a small hammer and chisel from his case and hammered at the wall, pinging a piece of wall free. He picked it up and stared at it. And then sighed. It looked no different.

Nevertheless, he pocketed them and continued examining the apartment.

An hour later, and he concluded that anything considered as evidence would have been collected by the other shift. There was nothing in there that was going to help. He ran his hand over his hair and gave the apartment a final check.

* * *

Flack took a seat in the interview room opposite his father. 'I was wondering how long it would take for you to haul my ass in here.'

His father glared at him. 'How long have you been living with Miss Turner?'

Flack leant back in his seat his eyes never leaving his father's. 'Why Dad? I didn't know you cared that much about my personal life.'

'Answer the question, Donnie.'

'It's _Detective_ Flack,' Flack told him.

'How long have you been living with Miss Turner, Detective Flack?' Sgt. Flack asked him.

'Technically, we're not living together. We're in the process of finding an apartment together, but we still haven't found one.'

Sgt. Flack pursed his lips. 'How long have you been staying _regularly_ at Miss Turner's?'

'We've been seeing each other since the beginning of the year, so I guess since then,' he said shrugging nonchalantly. 'But you'd know this if you ever turned up to the dinner invitations you've been sent.'

Sgt. Flack's eyes narrowed briefly. 'And how would you describe her relationship with Sonny Sassone?'

Flack screwed up his face in confusion. 'Sassone? She doesn't even know him.'

'It seems your girlfiriend is hiding things from you,' Sgt. Flack told him, pushing a copy of the visitors log of Rikers in front of his son. 'She's made two trips to see him, and he has sent her several letters. She's also been receiving monthly payments from him.'

Flack looked down at the information in front of him, trying to process it. 'I'm pretty certain that there's a reasonable explanation,' he told his father, retaining the coolness in his voice which belied the confusion in his head. 'It's probably for a story.'

'Interesting,' his father mused. 'And the cocaine in her bedroom walls. Would that be for a story also?'

Flack let out an exasperated sigh. 'Look, if you're going to arrest me, do so and call my union rep in. Otherwise, I'm leaving because this is the most pointless interview I've ever been involved in,' he told his father firmly as he rose to his feet.

Sgt. Flack also rose to his feet. 'I tried to warn you that that woman was trouble, Donnie.'

Flack glared at him. 'If you have any further questions, you can actually directe them through the union rep.' He turned and left, without looking back.

Somehow, his feet acquired a life of their own and he found himself down in holding.

'Flack, I can't let you in,' Bosco told him. 'I'm already on your old man's bad side.'

Flack glared at him. 'I can knock you out if that'll make it easier for you?'

Bosco held his hands up. 'I so don't need this crap right now, Flack,' he informed him, but stood his ground.

'Flack?' Mac's voice barked across the room.

'Stay outta this, Mac.'

Mac walked over. 'Don, don't blow this. Get upstairs and meet me in the AV lab.'

Flack looked at him. 'The AV lab?'

'It's the only room without glass windows and it's soundproof. It's the only place where we can all talk freely.'

Flack's look turned to one of confusion. 'Huh?'

'Just because we've been taken off the case, doesn't mean everyone's dropped it,' he told him, although he looked somewhat annoyed.

'Alright,' Flack conceded.

Mac glanced at his watch. 'No we just need to wait for Danny and Lindsay to get back.'

'From where?' Flack asked.

'Your place, I would assume,' Mac told him as he pulled his ringing phone out from his pocket. 'Taylor… yes… yes… Monroe…? Yes… I'll be right there.' He looked up at Flack. 'The AV lab,' he repeated.

Flack nodded and left, still feeling like he was being left out of the loop. Mac watched him, to make sure he got on the elevator, and then he left himself – time to discover what Lindsay and Danny had been up to whilst they were at Flack's'.

* * *

_Check out the updating machine!_


	170. I wanna be there for you, the way you've

_meadow567 - he he! This has got to be quick enough for you!_

_laplandgurl - I've been uber busy. I found the one good thing about my job is that there are four hours that writing can be done! Lindsay surprised me to, but I've decided to go with the flow!_

_Aphina - Maybe for now, but we all know it won't last long! I have a day off from the bookies tomorrow (you can imagine how happy I am!) Yay! Anyhoos, Mac knew all along - he was just waiting for the evidence, lol_

_RK9 - Um, another chapter? Is that irritation in a good way, or a bad way? And Mac certainly didin't get there on his looks! (Okay, I'll put my claws away!)_

_demolished-soul - I think I have succeeded because I didn't want him liked! lol_

_Thoren - I miss hanging out with the guys - I have such an urge for a poker night and they all moved back home. She will be out very soon!_

_Alana Xavier1 - I do know better. I'm sorry! But I'm only going to be mean for one more chapter after this... and then I'm going to be very, very nice!_

_sparkyCSI - Was it the same day? Cool, I really am an updating machine at the moment! I do try hard to like Mac. I struggle, though_

_Madison Bellow - Check me out, eh? It's wierd because I write how I feel, but by the time I come to post, it's like, wow, that was dark! There's more happy coming!_

_Big thanks to my amazing beta, sparkyCSI!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 169: I wanna be there for you, the way you've been there for me**

'Daniel Messer,' Mac bellowed the second Danny stepped into the crime lab.

Danny cringed. 'Yes, boss?'

'Where have you been?' Mac demanded. 'I told you I wanted you in your office catching up on paperwork.'

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. 'I went to see Flack – see how he's holding up,' Danny shrugged uncomfortably.

Mac glared at him. 'Get in the AV lab, now!'

Danny nodded, ducking his head as he hurried past the ex-marine and into the AV lab. Inside were Stella, Lindsay, Adam and Hawkes, all looking like they'd been caught with their hands in the cookie jar, as well as Flack and Louie. The former of whom, looked exhausted.

Mac marched into the room and closed the door behind him.

Danny looked from Flack to Mac. 'Oh crap,' he muttered.

Mac just glared at the four of them, waiting for one of them to crumble.

It was Stella who went first. 'We've been trying to help Taylor,' she explained.

'What is wrong with you?' Mac snapped, at all of them – not just Stella. 'You were taken off this case for a reason.'

'We just wanted to help,' Lindsay told him, repeating Stella's words.

'And helping got you arrested,' Mac retorted angrily. 'And I don't appreciate being dragged to Sinclair's office to be informed of that.'

Lindsay looked guiltily at the floor. 'Sorry,' she mumbled.

'At least they were doing something,' Flack muttered.

Mac whirled around. 'Just because I haven't been breaking into crime scenes doesn't mean that I haven't been trying.'

Flack glanced away, staring through a monitor. 'I was talking about myself,' he admitted quietly.

Mac sighed and looked around at the group. 'So what have you found out?'

'Sassone is behind this,' Danny blurted out. 'We just can't prove it.'

'How on earth does Sonny Sassone play into this?' Mac asked in disbelief.

'Taylor got a letter from him,' Louie spoke up.

Flack looked over sharply at him, but said nothing.

'He was requesting she see him,' Louie continued. 'She did.'

'What did he want?' Mac asked.

Louie shook his head. 'She didn't really say. He was after something.'

'And she might be giving it to him, because she has been having regular payments into her account for a few months now,' Mac told them.

Flack shook his head. 'She isn't doing anything she shouldn't,' he said, defending her. 'I pretty much live with her – I would notice something like that.'

'Did you know she has a _lot_ of information on her computers about Tanglewood?' Stella asked softly.

'She wrote something about gangs a while back,' Flack told her.

'She has been researching them for months,' Stella explained gently. 'I read that article, and it doesn't even begin to collate with _half_ of what's in her files.'

'That doesn't mean that she's dealing cocaine,' Flack snapped angrily at her.

'Flack,' Mac said in a low, warning tone.

'Don has a point,' said Hawkes. 'We would know if she was dealing.'

'Would we though?' Louie asked.

'Yes!' Danny said nanoseconds before Flack.

Mac took a breath as he looked around the room. 'What did you find in Taylor's apartment?' he asked Danny.

Danny shrugged, leaning dejectedly against a wall. 'Nothing. The other shift cleared it out,' he said, throwing his copy of Taylor's key onto the desk next to Adam.

Adam sighed and picked it up, staring at it absent mindedly, only half listening to Mac who was now talking.

'Honestly, it looked like she did it herself,' Mac said. He held his hands up in the air to cut off almost everyone. 'I am merely reporting back what I saw. Don't forget, I am the only one who saw the crime scene before IAB got to it.'

'Yeah, and I wonder _why_ IAB got to it?' Flack muttered under his breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

Mac ignored him. 'Without analyzing the trace, it looked like someone lit a match to gasoline. And it looked like it was someone with a key.'

'Maybe it was,' Adam piped up excitedly.

'What are you trying to say?' Flack demanded, taking a step towards him.

'You used this to get into Taylor's apartment?' he asked Danny. Danny nodded. 'And how old is the key?'

'I've had it months,' Lindsay told him.

Adam nodded. 'I couldn't tell for certain, without examining the lock itself, but there's been a freshly cut key in it. It has transfered scrapings onto this one.'

Mac nodded. 'Day shift already confirmed that. The only problem is that it doesn't prove anything,' he explained as Adam seemed to visably deflate.

'No, but the reason Taylor has a broken arm is because someone mugged her. And isn't it slightly suspicious that her bag turned up with only the cash missing?'

'Because she'd have had to have changed all the locks otherwise,' Stella nodded.

'And she'd have had to have checked her bank accounts for unauthorized spending,' Danny added.

'But this still doesn't explain the cocaine,; Mac sighed.

'She's being framed by Sassone,' Lindsay cried.

'My dad will just say that she didn't start the fire,' Flack told them. 'Mac's right. We still need to explain the cocaine.'

'Tweedy Pie,' Louie said suddenly.

'I don't get what a cartoon bird has to do with anything,' Lindsay muttered, frowning slightly.

Louie shook his head. '_Tweedy_ Pie, not Tweety Pie,' Louie told them.

'Rick Tweedy?!' Danny asked.

Louie nodded. 'The hit man that doesn't kill.'

'Sassone won't have people killed unless he wants to send a message,' Danny explained to the blank faces.

Louie nodded. 'He finds it more productive to blackmail them. Or frame them – he does that when the person has useful contacts.'

'So that leads this all back to us?' Lindsay asked.

Louie nodded. 'Probably. We all work in a crime lab. He probably figures that one of us cares enough about her that we'd botch his case up, or something.'

Mac looked around. 'I guess he was right,' he declared, looking pointedly at Danny, Hawkes, Stella, Lindsay and Adam.

'Mac, we didn't do anything to Sasso-'

Mac cut Danny off. 'You have just returned from a sealed crime scene, and you,' he turned to Lindsay, 'got a note to file, as well as IAB's attention.'

'Well at least they were doing something!' Flack snapped.

Mac whirled around. 'You think I've been doing nothing, Flack?'

Flack glared at him, his blue eyes going dark. 'Something like that.'

'Aside from trying to keep my team out of trouble, despite the fact I knew what they were doing, Don, I have been talking to your father. He's allowed me to interview Taylor with him. He seems to think a familiar face might get her to confess the truth.'

'She hasn't done anything!' he exploded.

'I realize that,' Mac shouted back. 'It's why I'm trying to get your father to see that.'

'Where's Cordelia,' Stella asked, stepping between the two.

The anger remained in Flack's eyes as he whirled around to face Stella. 'School.'

'Alright, well how about we go and see if we can get some things for her – how's she coping without Wilbur?'

Flack sighed. 'I think she's more focused on the fact that Taylor isn't there.'

Stella nodded. 'Come on. Let's get her out of school. Clearly she won't want to be there,' she told him, leading him from the room.

Flack resisted. 'Stella, I would rather be here.'

'Doing what?' she asked him gently. 'Your father won't be happy if he finds out you're here, and I think that Taylor would be happy knowing you're looking after her niece.'

Mac watched the pair leave and turned to the others. 'Adam, get back to the lab, Louie, to the morgue.' The pair nodded, quickly following Flack and Stella from the room. Mac turned to Lindsay and Hawkes. 'You two get back to your desks, and don't you dare let me find them empty until the end of your shift.' As soon as he was left with only Danny, he turned to the younger CSI. 'You are suspended for two weeks.'

'Mac!' Danny began to object.

'Danny, you were trespassing on a crime scene – on a case you were banned from. Be thankful you're not getting fired. Go home and don't come near this building unless I tell you.'

Danny sighed. Realistically, he was getting a very mild punishment, especially if IAB were to find out. Still, that didn't mean he was happy.

* * *

Danny gathered his things from his locker and was heading towards the lift when he felt something in the bottom of his pockets. Confused, he pulled out the bits of plaster he had recovered from Taylor's apartment. He ran the chips over in his hands, and then checking Mac wasn't in sight, headed back into the crime lab.

'Richard!' he shouted, spotting one of the CSIs from the other shift.

The CSI named Richard turned. 'Messer, I can't tell you anything about the Turner Case,' he sniffed disapprovingly.

Danny rolled his eyes. 'I get that, _Dick_. I just wanted to make sure you hadn't missed something at her apartment.'

'I know how to do my job, thank you,' he told him.

'So you checked the plaster?' Danny asked him.

'Messer, what are you talking about?'

'The plaster covering the area where the drugs were found.'

Richard rolled his eyes. 'We've already confirmed it's fresh plaster.'

'Have you dated it in comparison to the plaster on the other walls?' Danny asked him, his tone accusatory.

'Do you have any idea how costly that process is?' Richard asked him.

'You mean you haven't?' Danny cried in disbelief. 'If it's gonna prove her innocence, it should be tested.'

'She probably did it anyway,' Richard told him. 'I caught her taking a sledgehammer from the weapons locker and she told me she was working for Pino – someone else who conveniently has been investigated by IAB.'

'So have I,' Danny told him furiously – Richard took a step back eyeing his clenched fist nervously. 'Does that mean I'm a criminal too?'

'Now I didn't say that,' Richard hastily told him.

'MESSER!'

Messer turned finding Sgt. Flack glaring at him. 'Stop harassing the swing shift and get your ass in interview room three now! And if you want your union rep with you, I suggest you tell me now!'

* * *

_I have one chapter left, and then I am going to be nice for a bit - I promise! Anyhoos, I just wanted to say thanks to all for the reading (and of course, the reviewing!) Y'all truely do make a gal happy when she'd had a lousy day at work! _


	171. I'll be seeing you again, Yeah, I'll be

_meadow567 - And amazingly, I can actually deliver for once! Here ya go!_

_Aphina - lol, that was one of my favourite parts to write! I'm going to stop being mean and get them out of it now!_

_RK9 - I know! I don't know what's coming over me! I'm keeping my promise! I think I need those cuddles too!_

_nikkilou - Thank you! I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long!_

_Mauveine - lol, I have had a mad updating session this week! I don't like him either - but I'm having fun with him, and there's something in the works to 'sort him out'!_

_Madison Bellows - I think you should - though how you find the time! I know, she's made up, but I just wanna hug that kid!_

_demolished-soul - It's true. I wouldn't mind if they declared him dead, but it would be nice to know what happened to the guy who was beat into a coma for protecting his brother! Actually, I would rather him alive - I just want an answer to his whereabouts!_

_sparkyCSI - There weren't too many changes - the muses declared this done with and are way ahead in the chapters - where am I up to in sending to you? I'm very glad to hear about your Dad - is he back home?_

_Thoren - I'm surprising myself with all this updating! It makes a change! I'm glad I can keep you occupied whilst being grounded_

_I do have a brilliant beta, but the mistakes in this chapter are mine because I went back and changed things at the end - Sorry Kris!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 170: I'll be seeing you again, Yeah, I'll be seeing you, in Hell**

Taylor lay on her back, staring at the water stained ceiling of her cell. She had barely moved from the spot for hours. She let out a deep sigh as the two hookers in the next cell started up on their bickering again.

'Hey Taylor,' Bosco's voice carried softly over. 'You want a coffee?'

Taylor turned her head and stared at the officer. 'No thanks,' she muttered, before returning her attention to the ceiling.

'What about us?' one of the women in the cell next to her asked him.

Taylor sighed. Maybe, just _maybe_, Louis had been right.

* * *

Danny sat on the other side of the table, watching Sgt. Flack pace up and down opposite.

'I can't say I'm surprised to see you on that side of the table,' Sgt. Flack told him.

Danny glared at him but held his tongue.

'I warned Taylor that he shouldn't hire you. I knew what trouble you'd be.'

Danny's chair went sailing out behind him. 'That was you?' he demanded as he slammed his hands on the table.

'Sit down, Messer.'

Danny, looking like he wanted to tell Sgt. Flack what he'd rather do with his chair, instead complied, sitting back down, folding his arms as he resumed the task of glaring at the senior officer.

'So you were at the crime scene?' Sgt. Flack asked him, more rhetorically than anything else. At Danny's lack of response, he continued. 'Were you looking for more drugs?'

Danny looked up, arching an eyebrow. 'Seriously?'

Sgt. Flack shrugged. 'You went to a lot of trouble to get into that apartment.'

Danny rolled his eyes at him. 'Only because I'm trying to do your job. If you decided to even half attempt to, I wouldn't even have to.'

'You want to be careful with those accusations,' Sgt. Flack told him in a low voice.

'Maybe you should be careful with yours,' Danny growled at him. 'Has it even occurred to you that the person you're looking for is a real criminal?'

'Is that a confession? Or are you saying that maybe your brother is involved in this?'

'You know what, when I first started here, I had a lot of respect for you, even though you didn't like me. You were ruthless, and I think you still hold the highest arrest record. Now I'm beginning to wonder how many innocent people are behind bars because you've painted the evidence to fit.'

'Why-'

'And you know what, if you want to throw accusations at me, you can damn well do it with my union rep present, because I don't think he'd be too impressed with the crap spilling from your mouth.'

Sgt. Flack rose to his feet. 'You had a chance there,' he told him softly. 'Mark my words, Messer: I know what kind of person you are, and I will make it my mission to see that everyone else does too.'

* * *

Taylor walked through the door the officer was holding open for her and took a seat in the all-too-familiar chair, waiting for Flack's father to appear. To say she was surprised when Mac arrived was verging on an understatement. 'Mac?'

'Your lawyer will be along shortly. We'll wait until then,' Mac told her.

Taylor frowned, nodding, unsure as to whether or not it was a good thing that Mac was questioning her. True to his word, her lawyer appeared minutes later and took a seat opposite Mac, pulling out a yellow notepad and pen.

'Taylor, I need to ask you a few questions,' Mac told her.

Taylor nodded.

'Have you had any building work done in your apartment recently?'

Taylor frowned, curious about the question, but shook her head. 'It's probably due for redecorating, but nothing major. Anything more than a lick of paint would have to be cleared with the landlord.'

Mac nodded. 'You haven't patched any holes up?'

Taylor sighed. 'No. And even if I had, I would have noticed if there were any drugs in a hole.'

'Taylor, we've run some tests and it looks like the wall was repaired between one and two weeks ago.'

Taylor leant forward, settling her head in her hand. 'Mac, I've had that much happening in the last three weeks, I doubt I would have noticed if there were people in my apartment. I've hardly been in it myself. Hell, I've probably been in this building more that my own.'

'And what about the contact with Sassone?'

Taylor met his eyes. 'I saw him in prison, yes. But as for the money, I really don't know anything about it.'

'And why did you go see him?'

Taylor sat back and began tugging at a stray fiber in the cast on her arm. 'Nothing more than curiosity. He sent me a letter and a visiting order. I was curious.'

For the first time, Mac's eyes betrayed a flicker of emotion. 'Taylor, you know what curiosity did to the cat.'

'I'm beginning to,' Taylor responded dryly.

'Do you know why someone would want to set you up?'

Taylor shook her head. 'I write about crimes in general. Not specific ones. It's not like I'm about to reveal something big.'

'And what about all the research on the Brooklyn Bullets and Tanglewood.'

Taylor's eyes flicked up to meet him. 'They put Stella in hospital. I was trying to find _something._ I ended up finding out how closely related to Tanglewood they were. But it's nothing that you couldn't find in your own files, or even straight from the papers.'

Mac looked at her thoughtfully. 'Is it possible that you found something without realizing it?'

Taylor shrugged. 'Of course. But Sassone contacted me before that.'

'Miss Turner,' the lawyer muttered in a low tone.

Taylor turned to him. 'What? I can't possibly say anything that's going to get me in worse trouble.'

The lawyer tutted under her breath but returned to her work.

'Mac, I have no idea how those drugs got there, anymore than I have a clue who put them there. I know that Don had nothing to do with them, and I know Marty won't have. I just don't understand why there is cocaine in my walls. It's got to have been worth a lot.' She sighed, closing her eyes. 'If there was a test to prove it, I would take it in a heartbeat.

Mac exhaled and stared at the journalist before him. Slowly, his eyes fell to the cast. 'How long has that been on?'

Taylor shrugged. 'A fortnight, maybe?'

Mac stared at it a moment longer. 'Taylor, I want to submit that as evidence.'

'And how is that relevant?' the lawyer asked.

Taylor, instead, nodded. 'Sure.'

'If you've had any contact with drugs, then it will show up in the cast.'

'I thought the drugs went missing a while back?' Taylor asked, staring down at the cast.

Mac nodded. 'True, but there would also be trace of plaster… in the plaster.'

'You won't find anything,' Taylor told him.

Mac nodded. 'I hope not.'

* * *

'She didin't do it,' Mac told Sgt. Flack, flinging a folder onto the desk in front of him. 'Tests confirm that Taylor's cast is clear of any trace of drugs, plaser or even wallpaper paste.'

Sgt. Flack stared down at the papers in front of him then looked up at Mac who was staring intently at him. 'Just because there was nothing in the cast, doesn't mean she didn't stick her arm in a bin liner.'

Mac actually had to refrain from rolling his eyes. 'That may be, but you have no proof that Taylor put the drugs there, nevermind had the intention of selling it. Which means she cannot be held any longer, and therefore can be set free.

'Fine,' Sgt. Flack muttered. 'But I am keeping a close eye on her and your team, Taylor.'

Mac stared him down. 'You can keep an eye on my team all you want, Flack. The only thing you should worry about is how you're going to get stuck back in retirement with every cop that you let get away with murder and any other crime. Like Truby.'

'Don't you _dare_ imply that I can't do my job!' Sgt. Flack snapped angrily at him.

'And don't _you_ dare to imply that my team can't do theirs,' Mac snapped back.

* * *

Taylor barely made the effort to look at the cell doors as they opened. Her arm was itching like mad - there had been a brief reprieve whilst the old one had been taken off and submitted as evidence, but soon after the new on had been put on, she was dying to get her hands on something long and pointy (which obviously wasn't going to happen any time soon).

'Tay, you can go.'

This time, Taylor's head flicked around as she stared in disbelief at Bosco. 'What?' she demanded as swung herself into an upright position so quickly she practically gave herself a head rush.

'You're free to go.'

Taylor leapt to her feet. 'Seriously?'

Bosco nodded.

Taylor stared at him in disbelief and then dashed out into the precinct. Waiting for her, in the foyer, was Flack Senior. She slowed and stopped in front of him. 'I didn't think you'd be here,' she told him.

Sgt. Flack glared at her. 'Trust me, it's not out of sympathy, Miss Turner. Taylor may have proved your innocence, this time, but I'm watching you.'

Taylor sighed wearily and stared up at him. 'Look, for one reason or another, you don't approve of me. But I'm not going anywhere. I love your son.'

'And you have an interesting way of showing it.'

Taylor's eyes narrowed. 'I think I can say the same applies to you,' she told him, almost in a low growl.

Sgt. Flack glared back. 'You want to be careful, Miss Turner.'

Taylor softly shook her head. There was no point in snapping back at him, and anything else was sure to fall on deaf ears. 'I guess I'll be seeing you,' she muttered quietly before turning and heading outside into the rain.

'What am I going to do with you?' Flack asked her gently as an umbrella covered her head.

'Hey,' Taylor greeted him softly. 'I was hoping you'd be here.'

Flack looked down at her. 'You can't get a rid of me that easily.'

'Can we go home?'

Flack sighed. 'Not really.'

Taylor looked up at him, thinking about the picture of her apartment. 'How's Cordelia?'

'She's with Stella. I think they were watching _High School Musical_.'

'Don, I…'

'Tay, it's alright. Not tonight.'

Taylor gave him a small smile. 'I think we should probably go get Cordy.'

'Stella said she'd be quite happy to take Cordelia off us tonight.'

'I'm sure she would,' Taylor agreed as they started to walk down the street. 'But I don't want Cordy to think _I've_ abandoned her too.' Flack stared down at her saying nothing. Taylor glanced up and caught his look. 'What?' she asked.

Flack smiled. 'That's incredibly…'

Taylor glanced down at the puddles that littered the sidewalk. 'I'm probably not the best role model, but she should be with us tonight.'

* * *

_I think I now owe y'all a VERY fluffy chapter, right?! Anyhoos, it's almost 3am and I should go to bed! Hopefully, there will be another update tomorrow (Friday if not!)_


	172. I believe that life is giving back

_laplandgurl - The evil plot bunnies of doom may well be the death of me! I'm convinced my brain is going to go into meltdown! And mischief is good!_

_demolished-soul - I have a feeling Louie's not going to be mentioned in this season - which is a shame! You're right they shouldn't forget about him! I'm happy she's out too! It was beginning to get to me!_

_Thoren - That was a very excitable repsonse, lol, but I'm glad you're happy!_

_sparkyCSI - I am about to watch it! Tay as maternal - maybe she'll get the mother role, but I'm glad the rewrite worked!_

_Madison Bellows - Maybe, but there is definate fluff in this one. I almost impressed myself (and I'm my worst critic!)_

_Aphina - Now that's an image - Flack Snr. in a headlock! I almost wish I could think of a way to get that in! She has matured, that's true. I'm beginning to be able to see her with kids - which means an end is looking promising!_

_meadow567 - If he turns out to be a nice guy... I dunno what I'll do. But he's probably never going to be mentioned. Heck, Louie was in an episode and we still don't know if he's alive, so Flack Snr who's been mentioned on a bio...?_

_RK9 - Hello Seymour! I have _Happy Feet_ images in my head now! Not holidays - just weird things going on whereby venting in writing is much needed! But no, no complaining (even if I don't update for a couple of days now!)_

_Mauveine - I admit, it was something that came to me at the last minute - I was trying to work that out for a while!! But here's some much needed fluff!_

_As promised... fluff... and yes, it's been due! Mucho thanks to my beta!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 171: I believe that life is giving back to you what you sacrifice**

Taylor stood in the doorway staring down at the child sleeping on the couch.

'You alright?' Flack asked her as his hands snaked around her waist.

Taylor shook her head, and then nodded. 'I am, but she's not,' she told him, nodding her head in Cordelia's direction. 'She can't stay sleeping on the sofa. It's not healthy for her.'

Flack looked over her shoulder at the girl who was curled up beneath the covers. 'I know,' he told her. 'But what do you suggest?'

Taylor stared intently, watching her chest rise and fall with the soft snoring. 'Alex said he had something.'

Flack frowned. 'Your editor?'

Taylor nodded. 'Apparently his nephew lived in there. He promised it would be rent controlled.'

'Is this the same place that was also burnt out in a fire?'

Taylor nodded. 'Yeah, but he also said we could have it if we wanted it.'

Flack gave the sleeping child one last look and nodded. 'Let's have a look.'

* * *

As soon as Cordelia was at school, Flack and Taylor went to view the house on the Upper East Side. From the outside, it was a perfectly charming brownstone. Inside was another story. Aside from the fact it was clear no one had lived in it for a good ten years, it was also a mess. The living room was in the worst state.

It seemed that the fire had originated from that room, as it had the worst damage. The dining room and the kitchen, also on the ground floor weren't fairing in any better state. Upstairs, although the second bedroom was in a reasonable state, the master bedroom was completely burnt out.

Taylor looked around the place and sighed. 'We may as well stay in my apartment.'

Flack looked around. 'Tay, you have no chance in hell of buying that property. Besides, this place is dirt cheap.'

Taylor nodded, staring at the charred remains of the curtains. 'That's because this place needs a fortune spending on it to do it up.'

'But it would be yours at the end of it.'

'Don, I can't let a child stay here,' she told him, sadly.

'Look, structurally, it only needs the floor boards replacing in the master bedroom. The rest is cosmetic. So long as we do her bedroom first, somewhere she can retreat to, Cordy will be fine.'

Taylor looked around at the ruin of a house. 'If nothing else, it's too big.'

'It doesn't matter if the place is too big,' Flack told her. 'Besides, you said Alex would keep this place rent controlled. More importantly, it comes with the option to buy.'

Taylor looked around the shell of a living room and sighed. 'It's beyond too big, Don. We don't even need four bedrooms.'

'Sure we do,' Flack shrugged.

Taylor frowned. 'One for us, one for a study. That's, therefore, two too many.'

'And what about Cordelia?'

'She will be gone in a few months,' Taylor pointed out.

'What about until then? And what happens if something happens before then, and we end up with Cordelia for longer?'

Taylor sighed. 'Fine. Three bedrooms. But we still don't need a fourth.'

'What about children? Or are you saying you'd give up your office for a nursery.'

'Of course I'm not going to give up my office,' Taylor told him, slightly outraged.

Flack grinned. 'So what are you suggesting? Giving up working?'

Taylor continued to glare at him. 'I am not giving up my job! It can go in the fourth bedroom.'

'Do we really need a fourth bedroom?' Flack asked, looking around. 'It would be a little big.'

'Well, where else would you expect a baby to go?' Taylor asked him. 'I'm telling you, we need four bedrooms.'

'What about this place?' Flack shrugged.

'This place is perfect,' Taylor snapped.

'Good,' Flack told her with a smile.

Taylor glared at him, then slowly her forehead crinkled into a frown. 'Hey!' she objected. 'You just tricked me.'

Flack grinned.

'You can't do that!' Taylor declared. 'It's not fair.'

'Do you want this place?' he asked.

Taylor looked around the living room. The wallpaper was hanging off the walls, the carpet was growing a new life force from where the fire hoses had leaked, the ceiling had caved in somewhat, and the wood fire looked like a carbon monoxide health hazard – and it was still one of the better rooms in the house. She nodded. 'Yeah.'

Flack wrapped his arms around her and kissed her gently. 'I love you.'

'I love you too,' she said softly, frowning slightly. 'Are we really going to do this?'

Flack nodded. 'We sure are.'

* * *

By early evening, the three of them were seated in Flack's living room, playing Scrabble. Taylor had phoned Alex and he had been more than happy to agree to them renting the house, with the option of buying.

Taylor returned from the bedroom and seated herself on the couch opposite Flack who was watching her from the floor.

'She's asleep,' Taylor told him.

Flack smiled. 'I think we wore her out.'

'It's only Scrabble,' Taylor responded.

'To you, maybe, but she's a less than a quarter of your age – and she was giving it a damn good attempt to beat you at it.'

Taylor grinned. 'She's gonna beat me one day.' She glanced down at the letters in front of her. 'You, on the other hand… not so much.' She picked her pieces up and placed them on the board. 'QUINTET. Double word score.'

Flack looked up at her. 'Yeah, and I can't wait until the day she whoops your ass.'

Taylor grinned. 'She's gonna beat me _long_ before you are.'

Flack smiled and placed his pieces on the board. 'Wanna bet? That's a triple word score.'

'Triple-score word? Let's see what word you've been making up this time.' She glanced down at the board. 'MARRYME? That's not a word,' she frowned.

'Sure it is.'

Taylor reached for the dictionary. 'Let's see than, shall we? M… A…' She stopped leafing through the book and looked at Flack. 'Oh…' she trailed off as Flack dropped onto one knee. 'Oh.'

'Marry me,' he said, simply, producing a small velvet box from his pocket.

'Me?' Taylor squeaked.

'No,' said Flack rolling his eyes slightly. 'I meant the person over there.'

Taylor started to turn, but he grabbed her hand, slipping a ring on. Taylor brought it up and stared at it – her breath caught in her throat. It was beautiful. White gold, with a large, but subtle, oval ruby, and a smaller diamond on each side.

'You want to give me an answer because I think the carpet might be trying to eat me,' Flack asked.

Taylor swallowed suddenly realizing that a) she hadn't actually exhaled, and b) that he had been waiting a while. She dropped to her knees. 'Yes.' She told him happily, placing a hand on either cheek and kissing him. 'Oh God, yes.'

'You do realize this comes with a condition, don't you,' Flack told her softly.

Taylor leant back and stared at him. 'What kind of condition.'

'You have to talk to me.'

'I do,' she started.

'No,' Flack told her, shaking his head. 'You don't. You bottle it all in. And it's not healthy, Taylor. If nothing else, you're gonna end up getting arrested again, and I'm not sure if I can handle that a second time.'

Taylor stared intently into his earnest blue eyes. 'Don, I-'

'Taylor, I love you. I do. But you _have_ to talk to me. I don't care how bad the news is. Or how good it is.'

Taylor glanced down at the sparkling ring before looking up at Flack. 'What about your parents?' she asked, regretting it before the words had even passed her lips. 'What about your father? I'm not exactly on his _top ten_ list. Unless it's the ten most wanted.'

'Taylor, this is about you and me, not you, me and my father.' He pulled her down onto the floor next to him, the scrabble board sent flying. 'Not tonight, anyway.'

* * *

Taylor awoke long before Flack did with a pain in her neck. Having allowed Cordelia to sleep in Flack's bed, the only other option had been the floor or the couch.

She groaned inwardly as she stretched. Mid stretch, she paused, spotting the ring glinting at her in the morning light. Slowly, she sat herself upright, looking at the ring. 'Holy crap,' she muttered. She swiveled and glanced down at Flack who was lying on his side, his hand already subconsciously going for the now cooling spot she had just been laying.

He poked an eye open and looked sleepily at her. 'You're not about to change your mind, are you?' he asked, his voice still gravelly from the sleep.

Taylor shook her head, a great smile on her lips. 'I would, but there's a slight problem.'

Flack propped himself onto his shoulder looking serious. 'What?'

Taylor shrugged. 'Kinda love ya too much.'

'Taylor Nicole Turner!' Flack mock exclaimed. 'That almost sounded sappy.'

'Yeah,' Taylor agreed, 'but you love me that much I can get away with it.' She leant over and kissed his forehead. 'Anyway, we should be getting up.'

Flack stared at her in surprise. 'Firstly, it's gotta be 5 in the morning, secondly, it's gotta be _5_ _in the morning_,' he told her. 'You don't do mornings.'

'No, and I didn't think I'd be doing parenting skills either,' she informed him. 'But I am not about to be responsible for scarring a seven year old when she walks out of your bedroom and catches us lying on the floor naked.'

Flack groaned. 'You may have a point, but that doesn't mean I'm going to like it.'

Taylor shrugged. 'Get used to it,' she told him, breaking into a huge grin. 'And if you excuse me, I have to call my best friend.'

'I don't think Lindsay is gonna appreciate you calling her at this time.'

Taylor shook her head. 'Actually, I was talking about Maddy. And I'm not sure if ghosts need to sleep.'

* * *

_Does this make y'all happy? And it's gonna stay nice and mellow for a couple of chapters for y'all too!_

_Okay, so Saturday is the Grand National - oh, the joy, and Sunday will be spent in bed sleeping because I am the mug working 10pm until 1pm Monday (the mug that volunteered), which means the next update will probably be Monday evening if I haven't collapsed, otherwise, Tuesday!_


	173. What if I told you it was all meant

_demolished-soul - I can't wait to finish this plotline off - I'm taking a little break to have some lighter chapters, and then dealing with it properly!_

_Aphina - I kicked myself with that one - I keep having to remind myself there's a child involved. See, you keep telling me I'm funny, but it's still not sinking in!_

_laplandgurl - I mean, yeah, but I couldn't be that mean - I know I couldn't turn the guy down!!_

_sparkyCSI - I ended up going into work early... so I was in at 7pm rather than 1am - I finished at 2pm! I KO'd but managed to make it to my class! I loved the proposal too - it wrote itself (albeit at a different time)_

_RK9 - woot! Score one for originality! It has taken a while to get here, eh? But I'm glad you liked!_

_Alana Xavier1 - Sappy was needed. But I have to wrap things up first before I can plan a wedding - Don't want anyone thinking Sonny's gonna get his hands on it. I'll let you choose_

_Mauveine - It turned out longer than 15hours, and it was fine until the last hour, but the big boss bought lunch (and I thought he didn't like me, lol) but I'm back - prob not with daily updates, but back nonetheless! The proposal was my favourite bit - it's been written for ages but I've been trying not to jump ahead._

_meadow567 - Actually, I never even thought about that. Hmmm. Good question - now I shall ponder._

_miss wizard of oz - No worries - life gets hectic, and hey, I'm even worse! Yup, nice and mellow - I'm slowing it down!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 172: What if I told you it was all meant to be?**

It turned out that ghosts didn't need to sleep. And it was also a good thing that only Taylor could hear her when Maddy let out an ear piercing scream of delight when Taylor showed her the ring in the morning light in the kitchen.

'OH MY GOD!' Maddy yelled. 'Holy _freaking_ cow!'

Taylor rubbed her ear. 'Geeze, Mads, I think half the dogs on the island might have heard that. And what's so unbelievable that I'm engaged.' Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Taylor slumped back against the counter. 'Holy _freaking_ cow,' she muttered, repeating Maddy's words. 'I'm engaged.'

Maddy grinned. 'Your mamma is going to be so happy.'

The smile slowly fell from Taylor's face. 'We are _so_ not telling her any time soon,' Taylor told her.

Maddy nodded. 'Yeah, it's probably a better idea if you officially move into the house together.'

'She's still going to insist that we don't live together until we're married,' Taylor pointed out.

Maddy nodded. 'True, but I was referring to the fact that at least there would be a room for her when she insists on moving in and taking over the wedding.'

Taylor wrinkled her nose up at the suggestion. 'Yeah, we're not telling her until hell freezes over.'

Maddy shrugged. 'Tay, she's gonna think it has when she realizes you're not quite so good, sweet, innocent and virginal.'

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Fair point. And on that note, I'm going to wake Cordy up, tell her the good news, and then take her to Ruben's so that me and Flack can go and attack the new house.'

Maddy cocked her head. 'Does he know about your DIY skills?'

Taylor glared at her. 'No, but it's not something that generally comes up in conversation.'

'Neither is _marry me_, but it happens.'

'Don't you have someone to haunt?' Taylor asked her pointedly.

* * *

'Morning, sweetie,' Taylor greeted Cordelia as sat up in bed.

'Morning,' Cordelia responded softly.

Taylor smiled and perched on the end of her bed. 'I have something to tell you,' she said. 'Me and Don are going to get married.'

Cordelia looked up at her, and then to Flack who was standing in the doorway.

'What's the matter?' Taylor asked when Cordelia looked down at the sheets – she hadn't exactly been expecting the child to jump for joy, but she had been expecting a little _something_ more positive.

Cordelia's response came as a sniff.

'Cordy?' Taylor asked in alarm as Flack quickly joined her on the other side of the bed.

'What's the matter, Worm?' he asked her. With her head in a book most of the time, Flack had quickly christened her bookworm, or Worm.

'I don't want to leave,' Cordelia sniffed.

Taylor's mouth dropped open as Flack wrapped his arms around the child. 'What makes you think you're going anywhere?' he asked her.

'Because my mom did.'

'Cordelia,' Taylor said, firmly, wondering how she had managed to find that out. 'You're not going anywhere.'

'What about you?' Cordelia asked her quietly as she looked up at her.

'I'm not going anywhere, either,' Taylor told her.

Cordelia sniffed again but looked slightly more positive. 'Really?'

Taylor nodded.

'Can I stay with you forever?' she asked hopefully.

Taylor looked helplessly at Flack who gave the child's shoulders a squeeze. 'Cordy, forever's a long time,' he told her. 'And you have a real daddy who wants to see you.'

'But what if he doesn't like me?' Cordelia asked him.

'How could he not?' Flack asked her. 'He'd be crazy not to.'

'But what if he doesn't?' Cordelia repeated.

Taylor smiled. 'He will. But you can stay with us for as long as you need to.'

Cordelia stared up at her with her sapphire eyes and finally smiled. 'Can I be a bridesmaid?'

'Of course you can,' Flack told her, ruffling her hair.

* * *

'Drew, it's nine in the morning on a Saturday,' Danny grumbled as he stared up at the Brownstone in front of him. This place hardly looks like it needs us here this early.'

'I can't believe you're buying a house,' Lindsay told her as she stared up at the building.

'I'm not buying it yet,' Taylor told her. 'And you should see the inside of this place; it's not pretty. There's a reason why the windows are boarded up.' She walked up the few steps to the front door and made to put the key in the lock.

A loud screech stopped the key from turning. 'What the _hell_ is that?' Lindsay demanded.

Taylor turned to her, puzzled. 'Huh?'

'_That_!' Lindsay exclaimed, pointing to Taylor's hand.

'Oh,' Taylor grinned. 'My engagement ring.'

Danny actually stumbled, practically falling backwards off the bottom step. 'Your _what_?'

Sheldon stepped forward and grabbed her left hand, examining the ring. 'Taylor, it's beautiful.'

Taylor beamed. 'Yup,' she agreed.

'I am going to kill Flack as soon as he gets here,' Danny told them as he stared in awe at the incriminating piece of jewelry.

'I'd rather you didn't,' Taylor told him. 'I have a few uses for him yet.' She paused. 'Besides, he still needs to bring the power tools.'

'Are you sure we should leave you alone with power tools?' Danny asked, only half joking.

Taylor glared at him. 'Just because I suck in the kitchen does not mean that I can't strip a wall of its wallpaper. And you've clearly never seen me with a circular saw.'

'Do you have any idea how terrifying that sounds?' Flack asked, appearing behind them.

'Thanks for the vote of confidence,' Taylor muttered dryly.

'We can do some decorating too, you know,' Hawkes offered.

Taylor shook her head firmly. 'Nope. You men folk are here for the lifting. Everything in there needs to go into that skip,' she told them, pointing at the object that was slowly being lowered off the back of a truck.

* * *

'I can't believe he proposed,' Lindsay exclaimed excitedly again.

Taylor looked up from the piece of faded wallpaper she was scraping from the wall and beamed. 'I know.'

'Have you thought about the wedding yet?'

Taylor shook her head as she resumed sponging and scraping. 'Not really. We haven't really discussed it.'

Lindsay laughed. 'Come on; I bet you've had ideas about your wedding since you were a little girl!'

Taylor looked over. 'When I was a little girl, I was going to marry Prince Charming from _Disney's Cinderella_ – he was a cartoon,' she informed her dryly.

'Oh, come on!' Lindsay said, repeating her exclamation as she launched a sodden sponge at Taylor.

Taylor squealed as the sponge hit her between the shoulder blades. 'Look,' she yelped, launching it back. 'The most thought I've given this is that I want to wait until Chris is out of prison so that I can have my family there. That and I've promised Cordy she can be a bridesmaid.'

'You really haven't thought about it?' Lindsay asked, slightly shocked.

Taylor shrugged. 'No. You have?'

Lindsay nodded. 'I want my next one to be done properly.'

Taylor paused in the scraping and turned. 'Oh, Lindsay! I forgot. I'm sorry.'

Lindsay shook her head gently. 'It's alright. I think I'm finally over it. I just know I can't have the next time anything like the last time.'

Taylor smiled. 'Will you be a bridesmaid?'

Lindsay broke into a wide grin. 'Of course.'

Taylor bit her lip, growing serious. 'I'd ask you to be Maid of Honor, but I've always had that spot reserved for Maddy and it wouldn't feel right any other way.'

'Taylor, don't you dare feel bad about that,' Lindsay quickly told her, her hands already on her hips. 'I'm honored to be "just" a bridesmaid.'

Taylor gave her a grateful smile. 'I'm going to ask Don's sister too, and see if his niece and nephew want to be bridesmaids.'

'Ring bearer,' said Lindsay.

'Come again?' Taylor frowned.

'Ring bearer. His nephew would be a ring bearer, not a bridesmaid,' Lindsay told her.

'Oh,' Taylor shrugged. 'Well you've just made yourself my number one consultant.'

'Woot!' Lindsay exclaimed, punching the air. She pointed at Taylor. 'And you said that you hadn't really thought about it.'

* * *

'I can't believe that you proposed!' Danny exclaimed, (although it sounded undistinguishable from a grunt) as he hoisted the carpet onto his shoulder.

'Is it that hard to believe?' Flack asked, leading the sodden carpet through the window. (With the front room missing the glass in the window, the easiest way for the carpet to be removed, along with what was left of the ruined furniture, was straight out of the window.)

'Is there anything in this house that _isn't_ wet?' Hawkes yelled from the sidewalk where he was trying to guide the carpet into the nearly full skip.

'It's not _wet_,' Flack shouted back. 'It's a new life-force.'

'I don't get how there is so much mould in the carpet,' Danny moaned. 'The house had been unused for years.'

Flack paused in his heaving to stare incredulously at his friend. 'You're asking the guy with the diploma to explain to the guy with the _degree_ in science the ins and outs of _mould_?'

'Is this place fit to live in?' Danny asked instead.

Flack nodded. 'The mould is only superficial. Builders are in tomorrow to fix that tomorrow,' he nodded up at the hole in the ceiling above them. 'They're gonna check all the other floorboards at the same time.'

Danny looked down. 'You mean I could fall through this?'

'Danny, would you rather I swapped you with Taylor?'

'The same Taylor whose arm is in a cast?' Danny asked, eyebrow arched.

'Guys?' Hawkes' voice sailed through the window. 'Is there any chance that we could wrap up the mothers meeting and shift this carpet so we're not blocking the sidewalk?'

* * *

**_I suck at this - a new chapter of Gotham's Heroes is up! _**


	174. Life is a highway

_RK9 - Yeah, a while yet. (And would it kill you to know I have a winter wedding planned out?)_

_sparkyCSI - Lol, I think I could use her too! I'm hopefuly about to move house! I have no idea what I've sent you so far but I'm on the parent's computer so I can't send any other chapters anyway!_

_demolished-soul - I've had a lot of fun with the past few chapters (and the upcoming ones) so I'm glad that's shown through! I really want Cordy to be able to stay with her, but I think she needs to end up with her actual dad_

_Alana Xavier1 - I'm old enough to remember the show the first time around - Wolf was the best! I think there's talk of bringing the show back in England!_

_meadow567 - Actually, I may have overstepped that myself and had it pointed out to me - I'm becoming as inconsistent as the show writers!_

_Aphina - lol, I forgot too! And that was probably my fav part of the chapter!_

_Mauveine - I'm with you on that, and I really need to get more in! At least you have an end date! I have a second round of an interview tomorrow - I just can't decide if an hour and a half commute is worth it!_

_Madison Bellows - Lol, I know what you mean! I disappear and come back and I'm chapters behind and have no clue as to what's going on!_

_laplandgurl - I'm not sure where I stand on that. I'm not too bad in the kitchen (if I do say so myself) but I'm not terrified at the thought of an Ikea flatpack!_

_Forest Angel - I've had so much going on (and about to) that I've had to 'normalize' everything! I think I have another couple of chapters like this, and then I'm bringing back some old friends and stepping up the pace again!_

_Big thanks to my beta, sparkyCSI!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 173: Life is a highway**

'It's all set?' Taylor asked. She was busy hanging wallpaper in what would be Cordelia's room (and coincidentally the one which needed the least amount of work doing to it) whilst talking on her hands free with Sasha.

A loud wail from the circular saw in the room next door blocked out the response from Sasha.

Taylor sighed impatiently. 'Sorry, Sash. I'm going to murder them. They're already two days behind,' she added. She listened to what Sasha was saying and was about to respond when there was another wail. 'I give up,' she muttered. 'I'll call you later.' Using her shoulder, she hung up and began leveling the final piece of paper.

'Damn!' Flack exclaimed, stepping into the room.

'Hey,' Taylor greeted him without removing her eyes from the paper.

'I have to confess, when you said that you could decorate, I didn't completely believe you,' Flack told her, staring at the room in awe. The woodwork was painted immaculately in white gloss, and there wasn't a single bubble in the paper.

'I know,' Taylor admitted. 'I'm surprising like that.'

'Your brother again?'

Taylor nodded as she crouched down to trim the last bit. 'Brother and father. I actually enjoyed helping decorate the house.' Finally she rose to her feet. 'You should see me with plaster, because that's verging on artwork.'

'Not abstract, I hope,' Flack told her, staring down at the skinny frame whose clothes were covered in white paint, and skin was covered in blotches of paste. 'You sure there's enough paste on that paper.'

Taylor glanced down at her arms. 'Yup. I was trying to see how much it would take to keep me up there.'

Flack grinned as he leant down and kissed her nose. He pulled away pulling a face. 'You got it on your nose?'

'I had an itch,' Taylor pouted.

Flack was cut off from responding by another loud wail. 'Aren't they done yet?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Nope. Although they did try to convince me that the bathroom needed re-flooring.'

'Does it?' Flack asked, concerned.

Taylor shook her head. 'Are you kidding? They saw me and thought they could take me for a ride. I tell you, God Bless brothers.'

Flack grinned. 'Cordy is with Rikki and Ruben. Apparently they're going to watch Transformers, again.' He glanced down at his watch. 'And we need to get you home so that you can get showered.'

Taylor nodded and surveyed the room. 'I've just got to rinse this brush.'

Flack smiled, helping her gather the things into the corner of the room, before following her into the bathroom.

'The carpet fitters are coming to measure tomorrow morning so we can get a quote,' Taylor told him as she rinsed the paste from the brush. The pipes made a creaking noise. 'And the plumber is coming in the afternoon.'

Flack sighed, looking around the dated bathroom. 'Are we crazy?'

'Well, I am,' Taylor shrugged. 'And you're marrying me, so I guess you are too.' She reached over and grabbed a rag to dry her hands. 'Three of us can't stay in a one bedroom flat for much longer.'

Flack nodded. 'You still think that we'll be alright for moving in this weekend?'

Taylor shrugged. 'We knew that the only thing that would be completely ready was going to be Cordy's room.'

'You do remember that we agreed to have Ruben for Halloween, don't you?' Flack reminded her.

Taylor frowned. 'No, I hadn't, actually. Oh well,' she sighed. 'He was going to stay in Cordy's room anyway.'

'This isn't getting you home and showered and quicker,' Flack moaned after they had checked on the builders.

'That an offer?' Taylor asked, grinning wickedly.

* * *

They were late for the restaurant. Which was inevitable, really. They dashed from the taxi to the door, trying to avoid the rain, and waited to be led to the table.

Danny and Lindsay were already seated with Louie, Sheldon, Stella and Ikaia, Adam and Kendal as Taylor and Flack slid into the two vacant seats. 'Sorry,' Taylor apologized. 'We got caught up at the house.'

'How are you managing to decorate with a cast on your arm?' Adam asked, amused.

Taylor shrugged. 'Easily, actually.'

'You're not, um, destroying the place?' Stella asked.

'Actually, she's quite handy in the DIY department,' Flack announced proudly.

'I'll bet she is,' Danny sniggered, earning a thump from Lindsay.

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'You are all invited for dinner as soon as we're in and done,' she told them all. 'And I _won't_ be cooking,' she added with a sigh.

'I can't wait that long for food,' Ikaia laughed as his stomach grumbled. 'I think it's time we ordered.'

'Already done,' Lindsay smiled as the food was brought over. 'I told them to bring me a banquet.'

Taylor looked on in disbelief as bowls of Chinese food was laid out in front of them. 'A banquet for how many?' she asked.

'You're forgetting Flack can eat for three,' Stella laughed.

'You don't exactly pick at the food yourself, Stell,' Flack responded as he busied himself with piling some fried rice on his plate.

It took a very long time for everyone to finish eating, but finally (with the exception of Flack who was still eating Spring Rolls) they were all settled back into their chairs, comfortably full.

'I think it's time for presents,' Kendal declared, pulling out an elaborately wrapped gift and handing it over.

'Guys, I wasn't expecting anything,' Lindsay objected. 'I just wanted some food with my friends.'

'Tough,' Kendall grinned. 'Open it.'

_It_ turned out to be a box set of _NuWoman_ bath accessories.

'This stuff is brilliant,' Kendal told her. 'It was developed by some genius CSI in Miami who I went to college with. It actually gets the smell of dead bodies out of your hair without you smelling of lemons.'

Lindsay gaped at it. 'That's not possible.'

'That's what I said,' Stella said. 'And then I borrowed Kendal's body wash.'

'Really?' Danny asked, leaning over to try and grab a tube… until his hand was slapped away by Lindsay.

'Moving on,' Adam muttered, handing over a bulky package.

As the wrappings were ripped off, Lindsay burst out laughing.

'What is it?' Kendal asked, leaning over.

Lindsay, still laughing, opened the box and pulled something pink out.

'Is that a remote?' Stella asked.

Lindsay nodded, holding the box up. 'It's a _Control Your Man_ remote.'

'Don't you need a man first?' Hawkes asked.

Lindsay smirked. 'Maybe it will work on any old guy?' she asked, sending a knowing look in Danny's direction that no one seemed to catch.

'Maybe you'll like this then,' Hawkes laughed, handing her another box.

Lindsay again started laughing as she opened it. 'I'm beginning to feel a theme here,' she said, pulling out a _Grow Your Own Man_ kit.

'Well here's a little something different,' Stella told her, handing over another present. 'I noticed you flicking through some photographs on your computer one day,' she explained as Lindsay unwrapped a digital photo frame.

'Thanks, Stella,' Lindsay smiled.

'Our turn,' Taylor declared, handing over a brown envelope.

Flack gave his fiancé a sideways look. 'For the record, I have no idea what she's been scheming for the past week,' he told Lindsay. 'So if it's lame, it was nothing to do with me.'

'And when she realizes how great it is?' Taylor demanded.

'Then I take it back and will take credit for it, of course,' he told her.

Taylor pulled a face at him and then looked over at Lindsay. 'He gets no credit now. And for the record, it rocks.'

Lindsay smiled and pulled the envelope open. 'Taylor?' she frowned. 'Is this what I think it is?'

Taylor nodded. 'Lone Star Bar is, admittedly thanks to Sasha, having Big & Rich grace its stage. Now, I realize it's the middle of November, but that was the closest I could get it to your birthday,' she frowned.

'Taylor?' Lindsay repeated, staring in awe at the flyer in her hand.

'Alright, so there's a little more to it than that,' Taylor admitted. 'It's open to the public, but we do get the VIP area.'

'Is that what you've been planning?' Stella asked.

Taylor nodded.

'Taylor!' Lindsay exclaimed, leaping up from her chair and running around to hug her friend.

Taylor grinned as she hugged the woman back. 'Yeah, my present rocks,' she told the others.

Flack rolled his eyes and turned to Danny. 'Messer, your present had better beat that, or I'm not going to hear the end of it.' He gave Taylor a sideways glance. 'Ever,' he added.

Danny shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 'I don't know if it's gonna beat that.' He waited for Lindsay to sit back down before handing over a large envelope which had been leant against his chair for the evening.

Lindsay carefully opened it and gasped as she read that Danny had a star named for her.

'What is it?' Taylor asked.

Lindsay looked up. 'Oh, a gift voucher for a day at a spa,' she told them.

Underneath the table, Danny gently squeezed her thigh.

'I so rule the present giving,' Taylor grinned, winking at Stella.

'Great,' Flack groaned. 'Way to go, Danny.'

* * *

'You didn't tell them what I got you,' Danny muttered as they walked home.

Lindsay glanced upwards at the clouds which kept hiding the moon and stars. 'I didn't want them to know.'

'I'm glad you didn't,' Danny told her softly, slipping his hand into hers.

'Really?' Lindsay asked him.

Danny nodded. 'Yeah. I don't want to jinx what we have.'

'Daniel Messer, the romantic,' Lindsay laughed.

* * *

_So the show may be about to blow up the tracks of the DL relationship, but I'm sorry - I'm not ready for that one... yet? They're stuck together here (although this chapter was written when the strike was still on!)_


	175. Time is a valuable thing, Watch it fly

_Thoren - you don't have to apologise! I know RL is a pain! And you're still reading, so that makes me happy! I hope the router is working - mine was a pain to sort so I'm glad I don't have to connect that all over again_

_demolished-soul - It was nice to write them enjoying themselves for once! I don't hold up much hope for having a star named after me either!_

_daytimedrama - I'm not ready to give that one up yet so no worries there (although that's not to say there won't be a little bit of angst (:P)) I have given up with the writers - I don't see this ending well!_

_sparkyCSI - I think I need a moment to catch back up on the writing, but evening races have started again - boo! You're right - they could have gone about it so much better! (I think I want a Danny)_

_Aphina - (:P) I'm hoping I will turn out to be as handy with a hammer when I move... I have to buy a bed and put it together!_

_miss wizard of oz - I am actually completely up to date with the show! I'm just in denial!_

_meadow567 - You're right. I'll give them points for the slight continuity in the last episode, but other than that, I can't wait for the next season either. And it started out so well!_

_Madison Bellows - I think this the last chapter of fluff... I am about to be mean. I was going to be a hell of a lot meaner, but I've decided against that (and trust me when I say what I've got coming up isn't nice!) All is well... got a promotion in the job I like, and I'm hopefully moving house. The problem is I've now had to cancel my holiday, because a bed is more important (apparently) and I'm devestated about that! Hope all is well with you!_

_Okely dokely, there aren't any spoliers... actually, I don't think there are any for a while! There are, of course, thanks to my beta, sparkyCSI!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 174: Time is a valuable thing, Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings**

Taylor leant back against the wall with a sigh. The bunk bed was finally together and already making groves into the newly laid, fluffy carpet. The curtains were hanging and even the lightshade was fitted. Short of Cordelia actually moving her things into the room, filling up the empty shelves and closet, the room was ready.

Taylor smiled feeling insanely satisfied. One down… just another nine to go (if you counted the hall and landing).

She had insisted that the first room to have the window fitted in Cordelia's room first and the window fitters were slowly finishing off the bay window in the living room.

She yawned. It was time to head for her old apartment. Flack was already there with Cordelia packing up the rest of their things.

Only, by the time she had gotten to the bottom of the stairs, the window men announced that they were just about done. Quickly she typed out a text to Flack telling him that she would wait for the first moving van and direct the items to the correct room.

Which was a good thing, considering a man had turned up to measure up the kitchen.

By the time Louie and Danny arrived with the first truck load, Taylor's head was spinning.

'You alright?' Louie asked her – she was clearly showing signs of being flustered.

'What the hell am I doing, Lou?'

'Telling us where you want this sofa?' Danny muttered.

Taylor looked at it. It was the uncomfortable one from Flack's. 'What is that doing here?' she asked.

'Yours is a health hazard,' Louie informed her. 'Your fiancé told us that we had to go to his and get this thing.'

Taylor just shrugged. 'They're still packing up in the front. I guess it had better go in the back,' she told them, pointing to a door slightly down the corridor.

By the end of the day, virtually all the furniture that belonged downstairs was piled into the back room, and everything that belonged upstairs (short of the bed they were to sleep on) was crowded between the two spare rooms. With Cordy tucked up in bed, exhausted, Taylor was lying on the freshly laid floorboards in the living room with Danny, Louie, Flack, Sheldon, and Lindsay (the latter of who had turned up with beer and pizza.)

'I didn't realize you had so much crap, Drew,' Danny moaned.

'And to think you were only moving the furniture,' Taylor drawled at him.

Lindsay looked around. 'It looks a little better in here.'

'You should see Cordelia's room,' Flack said proudly.

Louie arched an eyebrow, ready to comment, but Taylor cut him off before his mouth was half open. 'I can decorate,' she told him. 'Hard as that is to believe, I'm not a stranger to a power tools and spirit levels.'

'Not that I'm complaining,' Sheldon laughed, 'but why is there no furniture in here?' he asked, tapping at the bare floor.

'We're gonna knock that wall through and have one big room,' Flack told him, pointing to the wall that was adjoining the back room. 'There's gonna be builders in and out of here for weeks.'

Lindsay frowned. 'That's gonna cost a fortune.'

Taylor shook her head. 'Actually, the majority of the building work is being fronted by Alex. He never spent the insurance money on the place, and as he's our landlord, he has a legal obligation to make this place inhabitable.'

'And he's covering a hole being knocked in the wall?'

Taylor shook her head. 'No, that would be us. And we have to cover the new bathroom suite as the one we have is perfectly fine. Although, that room is way down the list of priorities. He's paying for the kitchen done though.'

'What?' Danny laughed. 'So you can burn the house down and start again?'

He was quickly rewarded for that comment by a slice of pizza to be flung at him, which slowly slid down his face and fell to the floor.

'That was a waste of a perfectly good slice,' Flack complained.

* * *

It was late by the time everyone left and Flack and Taylor finally made it to the bedroom.

'I can't believe we've done this?' Taylor muttered as she slid under the sheets.

Flack looked over at her. 'You're not having second thoughts are you?'

Taylor met his eyes. 'Only over what color we should do the kitchen.

Flack gave her a relieved smile. 'That's good to know.'

'Dude, you're stuck with me,' Taylor grinned.

Flack's expression turned to one of disbelief. 'Did you just call me _dude_?'

* * *

The following morning, after Cordelia had been dropped off at school, had been spent ushering the builders around. By lunchtime, Taylor had abandoned the house and headed to a café near Cordelia's school. She had a column to work on and all she could hear was a wall being knocked down, combined with the radio.

Thankfully, when she realized what time it was, she wasn't far from the school.

She was hurrying down the street when someone grabbed the arm which wasn't in a cast, and hauled her down an alley, a hand covering her mouth.

Terrified, Taylor stared up at man's brown eyes as she tried to keep her heart from leaping out of her throat.

'You think you've won,' he hissed at her.

Taylor just stared at him, too scared to even begin to contemplate what he was talking about.

'You haven't. This is your last chance to help him. After that, it won't be as simple as drugs.'

Taylor blinked, trying to clear her vision from the tears that were spilling down her face.

'We know all about you, Taylor Turner. And we know we're gonna get what we want. The question is; are you going to realize too, or is someone going to have to die before you do?' With that, he shoved her backwards sending her flying as he took off running down the alleyway.

From her position on the ground, Taylor finally burst into tears, shaking uncontrollably.

By the time Taylor managed to get to school, she was looking slightly more controlled, although she had accomplished that by being a good twenty minutes late. There were, however, two disgruntled children waiting for her.

'Oh, it's Halloween, isn't it,' Taylor frowned. The fact that there were Jack-O-Lanterns everywhere meant nothing – they'd been up for weeks.

'Did you forget?' Cordelia asked her.

Taylor smiled. 'Of course not,' she lied. 'But we're going to have to go to the station first to see Don. Is that alright?'

'We get to go to the lab?' Ruben cried excitedly.

Taylor winced knowing that both Rikki and Danny had probably told him it was one place he'd never be going. 'Yeah,' she smiled. 'But you guys are sitting in the break room, I'm afraid.' It was clear from the cheers that even _that_ excited them.

She was on the elevator, still shaking as she rode it down. The kids had been left in the break room with a disapproving Danny (he'd told her that a crime lab wasn't a place for the children, which she agreed with, but when he'd taken a good look at her, figured it was something important.)

It didn't occur to her how shaken up she was until she was stopped by Louie. 'Taylor?'

Taylor looked up and realized she'd hit the wrong floor. 'Oh, hi Louie.'

'Taylor, what's the matter?' he asked her, concern in his eyes.

'I, uh, nothing,' she said, shaking her head.

Louie stepped in front of her grabbing her by the shoulders. 'Taylor, what happened?' he asked her calmly.

Taylor looked down at the floor. 'It's not over.'

'What's not?'

'Sassone. He's not done with me.'

'_Sassone_?' Louie cried, outraged. 'Are you still talking with him?'

Taylor's head whipped up as she threw Louie's hand from her shoulders. 'No, I am not. He decided to send one of his _friends_ to deliver a message.'

'Why couldn't you have just stayed way clear of him?' he demanded.

'Louie, I had done nothing wrong. I thought he wanted to give me some information for a story!' she shouted back.

'It's _Sassone_,' Louie told her. 'He was never going to give you a _story_, and you know it.'

'Oh, go to Hell, Louie!' Taylor shouted at him. 'I didn't set out to get in this mess.'

'Of course you didn't, and yet here we are again.'

'What the hell do you mean by that?' Taylor demanded.

Louie glared at her. 'You know what, Taylor, we're done. I'm sorting this out and that's that.'

Taylor stared at him. 'I don't need you to fight my battles, Louie.'

'No?' he questioned. 'Because if someone doesn't someone is going to end up dead.'

'You know what?' Taylor asked. 'I stand by my earlier statement; GO TO HELL!' she bellowed before turning on her heel and heading back for the elevator.

* * *

By the time Flack arrived back home later that evening, Taylor had vented all of her frustration into making decorative bags with Cordelia and Ruben so they could go trick or treating.

'Taylor?' Flack questioned her, sensing something wasn't right.

'I'm glad you're back,' Taylor told him. 'I need you to watch these two so I can get changed into my costume.'

Flack cocked his head as he looked from the kids (Cordelia was a pig, and Ruben was dressed as something which looked like it should have been a transformer, but only just pulled off robot) to Taylor. 'You don't need to dress up, you know. We're just making sure they're supervised.'

Taylor looked at him wearily. 'We had to buy me a costume as we came home. Say hello to Little Bo Peep,' she told him dryly, pulling a stuffed sheep from a bag and holding it up.

Flack tried to bite back a laugh, but failed. 'Seriously?'

'Oh, you can laugh, but you're gonna be a pirate,' she told him, pulling out a toy parrot and flinging it at him.

'A pirate?' he choked.

Taylor grinned. 'That will teach you for bringing _Pirates of the Caribbean _back home with you, Mr. Sparrow.'

'His name is _Captain Jack Sparrow_,' Cordelia and Ruben chimed up, correcting Taylor.

Taylor just looked pointedly at Flack. 'Be thankful I stopped them from turning you into the pirate with octopus tentacles for a beard.'

'He's called _Davey Jones_!'

Flack stared at the three before him and sighed resignedly. 'Fine.'


	176. I had hope, I believed, but I'm

_Thoren (and Abby and Kilana!) - I'm glad to hear all three of you are enjoying it! Thank you!_

_sparkyCSI - sometimes, I really wish I knew how and why my mind works the way it does! I feel like I'm always building the tension sometimes, lol!_

_demolished-soul - Ha ha, trust me when I say, I am dealing with him once and for all! But yes, he still has a powerful reach._

_laplandgurl - I wish I was in a house to do that. I'm now having cravings to decorate (yes, I'm strange!) Very much so, for Taylor, yet somehow, in my twisted mind, I see Flack pulling it off!_

_RK9 - I'm glad that lesson is learnt - it certainly is going to get a bit choppy! It wasn't Nixon! lol. And yeah, we are disapointed - but I don't want to give too much away for you!_

_meadow567 - please tell me I'm not the only one who can actually picture that?!_

_Madison Bellows - The plot bunnies of doom are more 'doomier' than normal. I'm forcing them to be nice! It's an uphill struggle._

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 175: I had hope, I believed, but I'm beginning to think I've been deceived**

'Hello?' Taylor answered her phone sleepily as she rolled over.

'_Taylor, it's Danny. Have you seen Louie?'_

Taylor stared up at the ceiling and frowned. 'Danny, it's eight in the morning. What exactly do you think I would be doing to see Louie right now?'

Danny sighed. '_He hasn't turned up for work today and he missed his class last night.'_

'I haven't seen since Halloween,' Taylor admitted. 'We kind of had an argument.'

'_Really?'_

'It wasn't anything important,' she told him, brushing it off. 'He probably went out and got drunk. He's probably sleeping off a hangover,' she offered.

There was another sigh. '_I hope you're right._'

Taylor yawned, hanging up the phone, and pulled herself into an upright position. Flack had taken Cordelia into school on his way into work, and Taylor had only planned on staying in bed for a little while longer anyway – the builders were due back to finish off the hole in the living room at nine.

They turned up early, for which Taylor was grateful. She'd been walking around the house and had decided she was going out and getting wallpaper and paint samples. She was tired of stripping faded wallpaper from the walls and sanding down woodwork. Admittedly, the house was beginning to smell better – less smokey and musty (although currently, it was dust and plaster that was assaulting her senses).

She pulled her hood up and stepped down the three steps to her door, and stopped, staring up and down the street for her car. Groaning, she headed back in and picked up an umbrella. Forty minutes later, she was walking towards Flack's desk. She sat down, sending water flying everywhere.

'It's still raining then,' Flack asked, as he wiped a few stray drops from his computer monitor.

'Yup,' Taylor nodded. 'I just hope the rain doesn't stick around as long as the heat did.'

Flack smiled. 'What's up? I thought you were stripping all day.'

Taylor cocked her head and gave him an amused smile.

'The walls, Tay,' he groaned.

Taylor laughed. 'I was going to, but I got bored. I'm getting blisters,' she told him, holding her hands up. 'I figured I'd hit Home Depot and check out their wallpaper.'

'Alright, and you came here first because you wanted to go the scenic route to what is effectively just around the corner?'

Taylor frowned. 'No, I came to pick the car up. I was gonna buy a lot more gloss whilst I was at it and I didn't want to struggle with it on the subway.'

Flack reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. 'Alright. But it there any reason in particular you didn't want to go in yours?'

Taylor caught the keys as he threw them to her. 'I was talking about mine,' she told him.

Flack shook his head. 'I took the SUV. Work car for work?' he shrugged.

'Well, where's my car?' she asked him.

Flack shrugged. 'Where you parked it.'

'It's not where I parked it,' she told him, slowly. 'I parked it in front of the skip and it certainly wasn't there when I walked out of the house this morning.'

Flack sat back in his chair looking thoughtful. 'Actually, I don't remember seeing it this morning when I left.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'Are you kidding me?!' she exclaimed. 'Some bitch has stolen my car?'

Flack ran his hand through his hair before reaching for the phone. 'I'll give Landon a call.'

'Who is Landon?' Taylor asked him, still scowling over the fact her car was missing.

'Mate in robbery.'

'And why can't you handle this?' she asked him.

Flack sighed patiently. 'Tay, sweetheart, I'm a _homicide_ detective. My workload is piled high as it is.'

'Oh,' Taylor pouted as she folded her arms tightly under her breasts.

Flack had barely hung up with Landon before his phone was ringing again. When he hung up for the second time, he looked apologetically over at Taylor. 'And that was a call out to a home invasion gone wrong in Queens,' he sighed. 'I think you're on your own this evening – Cordy is at Ruben's, remember.'

Taylor sighed. 'Well, it's not like I can go for a drive anymore,' she scowled.

Flack leant over and gave her a pat on the leg. 'You want me to walk with you to Robbery?'

Taylor shook her head. 'You get to Queens or I won't see you this evening.'

* * *

Taylor was walking back home after spending the best part of an hour with Landon Jenkins. He seemed like a good guy, but sadly didn't hold much hope for retrieving her car, especially with its lack of LoJack, but he did promise to call her if anything came up.

Feeling unable to handle the crowds on the subway, Taylor had decided to walk home, even if it was drizzling still.

'Taylor?'

Taylor turned, curious as to who had called her name. It was a tall man with a large nose, blue eyes, and thinning black hair. 'Craig?' she asked, surprised.

'You look well,' he told her, joining her.

Taylor smiled in shock. 'So do you,' she lied. Craig had been her first boyfriend from freshman year at college, and back then, he had seemed gorgeous. She didn't know if it was the fact so many years had passed, that first love had clouded her memory, the fact she was spoilt with someone as attractive as Flack, or a combination of all three, but he was not as good looking as she remembered. In fact, he was looking really weathered.

'I know you're lying,' he smiled. 'I can still tell.'

'Sorry,' she apologized uncomfortably.

'Look, I have to be somewhere, but are you free this evening?' he asked her. 'Let's have dinner and catch up.'

Taylor thought about it. Flack was at work, Cordelia was at Ruben's, and the only thing she had planned was scraping wallpaper whilst she sulked over a stolen car. 'Sure,' she said, taking a breath. 'Why not?'

Craig beamed. 'Meet me at _Chez Cherry's_ on 42nd.'

Taylor nodded.

Craig leant over, enveloping her in a hug. 'I've missed you,' he told her.

Taylor pulled away and gave him a small smile. 'What time?'

'Seven,' he told her.

'I'll see you later,' she said.

Craig beamed. 'I look forward to it.'

* * *

Wearily, Taylor climbed the few steps to her front door and pushed it open. She was greeted almost immediately by the builders who were on a coffee break (and one she suspected, that wasn't the first of the hour.)

'We're almost done,' the foreman told her.

'That's good,' Taylor smiled, gratefully. She wasn't sure if she could handle the men in her apartment for much longer that day. 'I'll be upstairs stripping wallpaper again,' she told him with a sigh.

'Oh yeah,' the foreman called out after her. 'The two decorators are already up there.'

Taylor paused on the stairs. 'Decorators?'

'Two guys. One really tall one. They said they were here to do the master bedroom.'

'Oh,' Taylor responded, forcing a smile. 'You guys still got a few minutes on your break?'

The foreman nodded. 'There's not a problem, is there?'

Taylor continued to force the smile as she shook her head. 'No, not at all.' She continued up the stairs, only pausing at the top to grab a hammer from the toolbox that had been left on the windowsill at the top of the stairs, and headed towards her bedroom, the hammer held out like a weapon.

Cautiously, she pushed open the door, ready to scream for help, ready to use the hammer as a weapon. 'What the hell are you doing?' she demanded as she walked in spotting one man hunched over an unpacked box, routing through, the other man having vanished in her closet.

The man who had been engrossed in the box leapt to his feet. 'Taylor!' he exclaimed, the relief evident in his voice.

'Sam?' Taylor asked, barely able to formulate a better response due to her surprise.

'Hi Taylor,' Dean greeted her cheerily as he stepped out of the doorway.

'Wh… wh… wha…' Taylor stammered as she tried to string a sentence together.

'You weren't going to whack us with that were you?' Dean asked as he extracted the hammer from her hands.

As soon as her hand was empty, Taylor found her voice. 'WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM?!' she bellowed as she thumped Dean's arm as hard as she could. 'MY CLOSET… MY _THINGS_?!'

There was a sound somewhat reminiscent to a heard of stampeding animals, and had Taylor been a witness to the situation, would have found it somewhat comical as the foreman and several men all but fell through the door, wielding various tools as weapons. 'Are you alright, Miss,' the foreman asked.

Taylor pulled her head away from Dean's chest – as the door had opened, he had pulled her away to stop her from being trampled, and consequently, she was now being held in his arms.

'Sorry, we were just playing a trick on our sister,' Sam quickly told them.

As quick as anything, Dean nodded and ruffled the top of Taylor's head with his fist. 'She's too easy to wind up.'

Taylor yanked herself away. 'Yeah, my brothers,' she agreed through gritted teeth, before punching Dean's arm again. 'Ever the jokers.'

'So long as you're alright,' the foreman told her, lowering the spanner he had armed himself with.

Taylor took a deep breath. 'Look, thanks, but you guys can go,' she told him. 'I need to catch up with my _brothers_.'

'We still need to plaster over the brick work,' he told her.

Taylor shook her head. 'It's alright. I can do that'

The foreman looked at her doubtfully. 'It's not an easy job,' he informed her. 'If you don't do it right, it will crack.'

Taylor nodded. 'I'm fine with it, don't worry,' she told him as she ushered them out.

When they finally left, she whirled around, hands on hips, and glared at the two Winchester brothers. 'What in God's name are you doing sneaking through my belongings?' she demanded.

'Taylor,' Sam started in his soothing voice, hands held up as if to show he was no threat. 'I think that maybe we should sit down and talk.'

'I think talking would be a good start,' Taylor agreed. 'So spill. What are you doing in my bedroom, and I swear to God, if there is anything remotely kinky about it, I will be going and getting that hammer back,' she sniped at them.

Dean swallowed and looked at Sam. 'You can explain this one.'

* * *

_Yeah, they're back...!_


	177. When I'm not chasing demons, there's

_Thoren - I know I certainly do! Oh, speaking of, I do believe there is a new episode on tonight! That makes me happy!_

_sparkyCSI - I think in their case, they certainly should be illegal! It would seem not - I think I am being a tad cruel at the moment!_

_meadow567 - I'm glad too! But it was all an excuse for these two to turn up - they're here to save the day!_

_LilyRianneEvans - Hello and welcome! Thank you, and I hope you continue to enjoy!_

_RK9 - Um... welll... please don't kill her! I've become quite attached! You know, there are plenty of things that should be made illegal in regards to those two! Yum!_

_Aphina - lol, I think you know where this leads, although it's hard to believe how long ago we discussed this! And I still haven't worked out what's bugging me about my fic! It will randomly come to me, I'm sure! _

_demolished-soul - Yes. And they're here to satisfy me, as well as save the day. Or at least, one of them will! I like having them around - I have plans for them to appear at least once more!_

_steffles24 - (:D) I can't resist them! And hello! I'm glad you like Taylor - there's been a lot of work put into this baby, so thank you!_

_brttmclv - Another new face... name! SN is one of the funniest shows I've watched in a long time - it's my hope I can do the boys justice!!_

_Madison Bellows - It is my joint fav show with NY (Yup, I share the love!) so if you get the opportunity, I would definately suggest watching it! No, we don't like Craig! Especially not after this chapter!_

_laplandgurl - Well, Sam and Dean are going to save the day - I've said that three times now just to skirt around the issue, lol! We don't have to worry about Sassone for a couple of chapters!!_

_Well, there are no spoilers, still - check me and my creativity out! I do still have thanks to a marvolous beta, but also thanks this time to Aphina for working out some of the plot over the next few chapters!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 176: When I'm not chasing demons, there's demons chasing me**

'Well?' Taylor demanded.

Sam shifted uncomfortably on the spot, rubbing at the back of his neck. However, it was Dean who started the explanation. 'You know about ghosts and demons and whatnot?'

Taylor slowly nodded.

'Well, here's the thing, turns out there are psychics too.'

'Dean!' Sam objected.

'What?' Dean asked, turning to face his brother. 'She's not gonna believe anything unless it's the truth.'

Sam sighed shaking his head.

'Anyway,' Dean continued. 'Sammy here has these psychic visions.'

Taylor pursed her lips as she shifted her weight onto her other foot. 'So what? There's a big bad hiding in my closet? Or is that actually the entrance to Narnia?'

Sam managed a small smile whilst Dean looked at her confused. 'Narnia?'

'_The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe?_' Taylor offered.

'Yeah,' Dean nodded, clearly doing the whole nod-your-head-and-smile routine. '_Anyway_, Sam had this vision.'

Sam took a breath. 'I didn't see much, but a demon was coming after you.'

'I don't get how that relates to my closet?' Taylor told them impatiently.

'Well, it doesn't, per se,' Sam told her uncomfortably.

'Then why the hell were you going through my things?' Taylor demanded, losing her patience.

'For clues,' Sam admitted.

Taylor stared in disbelief, mouth open. 'Clues to what? What demon I'm summoning?'

Dean nodded. 'Pretty much.'

'Alright,' Taylor cried impatiently. 'I seriously have better things to be doing with my time than conjuring demons. In fact, speaking of which, I have to get ready to meet a friend.'

'Taylor,' Sam started imploringly.

Taylor held her hand up. 'No. If you want to have a proper conversation with me, we can have coffee tomorrow. Right now, I need a shower and to get changed for dinner. So if you'll excuse me…?' she headed for the door and pulled it wide open.

'Taylor,' Sam tried again as the two brothers made for the door.

'Nuh uh,' Taylor told him, shaking her head. 'Coffee. Tomorrow.'

The pair left and Taylor shut the door, leaning her head against the wood. Demons in Virginia were one thing. Demons in New York City, in her home, that was another thing all together.

She hurried upstairs for a quick shower and threw on some smart black pants, a trusty pair of stiletto boots, and a deep purple sweater before dashing out of the door and hailing a cab.

* * *

Taylor stepped out of the taxi and looked up. 'Is this the right…' she trailed off as the taxi drove off. She looked up and read the name of the sign: _Chez Cherry's_. Well, it was the right name. Only it looked too… posh.

She walked in and asked the maître'd if Craig Stone had a table booked, when Craig appeared. 'Our table's over here,' he told her, leading through a throng of couples at candlelit tables.

Taylor eyed them suspiciously, but refrained from commenting. Finally they arrived at a table in a secluded table.

'I ordered some Merlot. You still like that?' he asked anxiously as he helped her into her chair.

'Yeah, thanks,' she said slowly as he poured her a rather large glass. 'So, what are you doing these days? Did you ever get published?' she asked trying to fill the silence.

Craig shook his head. 'Actually, I live in New Jersey, but I opened a book store.'

'You didn't move too far then?'

'Nope. Just far enough away. I saw your poster in Times Square.'

Taylor frowned. 'It's a little bigger than a _poster_,' she grumbled.

'I read your column every week,' he told her. 'I haven't missed a single issue. Although, I must say, I was very worried after that bomb in the _Daily's_ building. You didn't write a column for a few weeks – I though you'd been caught up in it.'

'I kinda did, actually,' she told him. 'But I wasn't hurt.'

The table grew silent again, and Taylor found herself taking a large gulp of the wine. 'So,' she started again, not liking the quiet. 'Is there anyone special in your life? I don't see a ring,' she indicated to his hand.

'I think she is,' he said, almost mysteriously as he stared intently at her.

Taylor shifted uncomfortably under his stare and reached for the menu. 'So, what's good to eat in here?' she frowned as she realized she was sat in a French restaurant.

'What's the matter?' Craig asked instantly.

'Um, nothing,' Taylor lied as her stomach shifted uncomfortably. French cuisine was still evidently inedible for her.

'We can go elsewhere if you like?' he offered anxiously.

'No, it's alright,' Taylor told him hurriedly. 'I'll just have a salad. I'm not very hungry anyway.' _Not anymore, anyway._

By the time they were mid-way through their food, Taylor had long since realized that she no longer had anything in common with her ex. He seemed to have other ideas.

'You're still as beautiful as when I last saw you,' he told her softly.

Taylor smiled awkwardly. 'Thanks, Craig.'

'Do you ever regret the past?' he asked her suddenly.

Taylor gazed thoughtfully into her wine. 'There are some things I'm not proud of, but as a rule, the mistakes I've made have made me who I am, for better or worse.'

'I do.'

Taylor looked up and met his gaze. 'I'm sorry?'

'Regret the past,' he told her. 'The biggest mistake was ever letting you out of my life.'

'Um,' Taylor shifted uncomfortably. 'Craig. I'm engaged.'

'But you don't love him, not really,' he told her.

Taylor frowned. 'Actually, I do. More than I thought it was possible. And I'm getting married to him, Craig. I _want_ to spend the rest of my life with him.'

Craig's eyes darkened instantly. 'You don't mean that, Taylor.'

'Yeah, I do,' she told him becoming slightly concerned with his reaction.

'No,' he said firmly. 'We are meant to be together. _We_ are meant to spend the rest of our lives together.'

'Craig,' Taylor started, equally as firmly. 'If we were meant to be together, we would still be together.'

'It was just a blip. _Distance makes the heart grow fonder_,' he quoted.

'Craig, it really doesn't.'

Craig reached over and grabbed her hand. 'Surely you can see that?'

Taylor pulled her hand back and rose quickly to her feet. 'You know, it was nice catching up, but I think it's time I headed home,' she quickly informed him as she fished some bills out of her purse and threw them on the table.

'Taylor,' he objected. 'We haven't even had dessert.'

'Yeah. I'm full,' she told him bluntly before walking out of the restaurant.

Outside the rain had finally seen fit to take a break, which was a blessing of sorts, considering the fact she had left her umbrella under the table and she wasn't in a desperate mood to hurry back in. Taylor sighed and pulled her jacket tightly around herself. Flack was going to be at work for another couple of hours and rather than face an empty house, she decided to head to her office and do a little work.

* * *

'We should follow her,' Dean muttered watching Taylor walk up the street.

'You wanted to follow her into the restaurant,' Sam pointed out.

'And?' Dean asked. 'I was hungry. I still am,' he said pointedly.

'Do you _ever_ stop eating?' Sam asked half in disbelief.

'We haven't eaten all day,' Dean informed him. At Sam's lack of response, he cocked his head and waved his hand around in front of his face. 'Earth calling Sammy?'

Sam nodded past him at something behind Dean.

Dean turned and stared at the entrance to the restaurant. 'That him? The guy in your vision?'

Sam nodded. 'That's him,' he confirmed.

'I guess we should be following him then,' Dean sighed reluctantly as his stomach emitted a low growl.

* * *

Taylor stepped out of the _Daily's _building, pleasantly surprised that it was still not raining. She glanced at her watch and decided to pay a late night visit to the crime lab – see if she could coax Flack out for a coffee break.

She was just approaching the building when someone stepped out in front of her from an alleyway.

'Dean?' she cried. 'You startled me.'

'Hello Taylor,' he greeted her softly.

Taylor frowned slightly. 'Hello Dean.'

'Taylor, we need to talk,' he declared, leading her into the alleyway by her elbow.

'Can't this wait until tomorrow?' she asked him wearily.

'It's important,' he told her.

Taylor took a breath and looked up expectantly at him. 'What's the matter?'

'What happened?'

'Dean? What are you talking about?' she asked in confusion.

'You and me,' he elaborated. 'How come we never got together?'

Taylor snorted. 'Because I love Don, and you love women?'

He inched closer. 'You've never been curious?'

Taylor swallowed. 'No,' she lied.

'You're lying,' he said, the distance between them closing. 'I can always tell when you're lying.'

Somewhere, Taylor knew she had heard that before, but the thought was drowned out by the alarm bells which were ringing in her head at Dean's close proximity. 'Dean. I'm engaged.'

'And yet you're standing in an alley with me.'

'Because you said you had something important to say to me,' she told him.

He was now close enough for her to feel his breath on her nose. 'I do. But actions speak louder than words.' Which was when he pressed himself up against her, pressing her up against the wall, and kissed her.

Taylor tried to push him off, and as soon as his hands began travelling upwards to a place he had no right touch her, she brought her knee up. Hard. 'What the _hell_ are you doing?' she yelled at him, wiping her mouth.

Dean glared at her, quickly reviving himself from where she had hit him, and slapped her, sending her reeling. 'Don't do that again.'

Taylor nursed her cheek and stared at him, trying to back away. For a moment she thought he had _really_ hit her when it looked like his eyes were now black instead of green. Instead, she ducked away from him and ran down the alley.

* * *

_So... shameless plugging here... have you guys checked out **Gotham's Heroes** yet?_


	178. I find my demons were my friends

_princessg - Has it been that many chapters?! It has, hasn't it! It's gonna get worse before it gets better, but it's definately gonna get better! Danny named a star for her. I feel it is a good club to be a member of - we should recruit! lol. And I'm glad that Kris isn't giving any spoliers away (:P) But I will try to update as much as I can!_

_meadow567 - Ah, now that is the question! No, but he was trying to summon one and may have partially succeeded._

_laplandgurl - lol, I'm sorry - I didn't mean to make it so confusing! (It all made sense in my head!) I'll go back and have a look at it!_

_Aphina - You can't kill Dean!! I'm glad the discomfort (you have no idea how long it took me to remember that work - I was going for uncomfotableness!) conveyed well. Sam and Dean are brilliant - I have plans for them once more, I think_

_Madison Bellows - It isn't, don't worry! And I'm glad you like both! (:D)_

_demolished-soul - I feel like something bad is always going to happen! (Oh wait, that's because I know what's happening! lol) And yeah, it was the creepy ex boyfriend!_

_brttmclv - Woo hoo! That makes me happy! I had to wait for the eppy to download and only got to watch it last night - it was very funny! But I only watch it for "Chisel Chest!", lol!_

_sparkyCSI - I have a weekend off (Hmm, perhaps I should have made sure you were sitting before I made that announcement!) So, hopefully, as soon as the house doesn't look like a tramp is living in it (yeah, it's that bad!), I shall be able to get some chapters written! And if you're gonna hit him, don't hit his face - he's too pretty!_

_RK9 - Oh, it really is one of my favourite shows - I can't stop singing it's praises! And if they're a distraction for you not to kil Tay, then good! Flack is well... all will be revealed! lol_

_Just thanks to my wonderful beta, sparkyCSI!_

**

* * *

****What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 177: I find my demons were my friends**

Taylor careered full tilt down the alley and into the street. Right then, the only thing going through her mind was to get home. Sadly, fate had other plans as she ran smack into another body sending the two of them flying, limbs akimbo.

'Taylor?'

Taylor extracted herself from the tangled mess she was in and found herself staring at Sam. 'I swear to God, if that brother of yours comes near me once more tonight, I am going to-'

'That's not Dean,' Sam told her, offering a hand to help her to her feet.

Taylor stared up at him. 'If it looks like a pig, and grunts like a pig,' she told him through gritted teeth.

'He's a pig, yes. But he's a possessed pig.'

The anger dropped from Taylor's face in a split second. 'Come again?'

Sam sighed. 'Not here,' he told her, leading her towards his brother's Impala.

--

A short while later and Sam was perched on the edge of the bed whilst Taylor was dabbing at a bleeding cut just above his eyebrow.

'Say that again,' Taylor muttered, barely believing it.

'I had a premonition. In it you were being attacked by a demon.'

'Are you sure it wasn't just a… a flashback?' she offered hopefully.

Sam shook his head, and then winced at the motion. 'There was a guy. He summoned the demon. He was with you at the restaurant.'

'You followed me?' Taylor asked, outraged, jabbing at his cut a little harder than intended.

'Ouch,' Sam winced. 'Yeah,' he added. 'We were worried.'

'So you _followed_ me?'

Sam rolled his eyes. 'Yeah. Deal with it.' Realizing she was probably only acting like that because she was scared, Sam softened his expression. 'When you left the restaurant, he followed soon after. We followed him back to his place in Red Hook.'

Taylor shook her head. 'He lives in Jersey.'

Sam shrugged. 'It was a bookstore. Old Stuff. A lot of occultist titles. Anyway, we crept in. He was hovering over an alter – very pagan like – knife ready to cut his hand.'

'Please tell me you stopped him from summoning a demon?' Taylor murmured, her face paling at the memory of the last one.

Sam nodded. 'Dean leapt at him. I didn't really see what was happening because I was destroying the alter, but when I turned around,' he shuddered. 'The guy-'

'Craig,' Taylor muttered distractedly.

'_Craig_ was on top of him.' He bowed his head. 'I thought it was Dean who had-' He took a deep breath. 'It was Craig.'

Taylor sat down heavily on the bed next to him, staring through the blood spotted cloth in her hands. 'Oh,' she sighed. 'But where does Dean fit into this? Is Craig possessing him?'

'I think so,' Sam nodded. 'I went to check Dean was alright, and the next thing I know I was being sent flying.' He pointed up at the cut on his head. 'When I woke up, he was gone. Thankfully, he hadn't gone far – I found you quite quickly.'

Taylor's head slowly sank into her hands. 'Can't say I feel any less guilty for hitting him,' she muttered. She shook her head and sat abruptly upright. 'Right – let's exorcise the thing out of him.'

Sam eyed her warily. 'You are aware that an exorcism isn't all fun and games?'

'Perfectly,' Taylor looked thoughtful. 'I guess it would explain why Dean's eyes flashed black.'

Sam gaped at her. 'Black?'

Taylor nodded. 'I just thought he'd hit me a little bit too hard.'

'This is not good.' Sam rose to his feet and looked down at her. 'Do you know what a Devil's Trap is?'

Taylor frowned. 'Last time all it took was a bit of holy water-'

'Taylor, this is a guy who was summoning demons and is now in Dean's body, and by the sounds of things, he may have actually succeeded in summoning that demon. We are going to have to keep them in one place – a Devil's Trap is pretty much the only thing that's going to cut it.'

'But you just said-'

'I know what I just said, but then _you_ said his eyes went black.'

Taylor exhaled deeply, scratching at her eyebrow. 'So where do we find a Devil's Trap, and how do we get Dean in it?'

Sam looked at her. 'You get Dean here. I'll worry about the trap.'

'And how am I supposed to do that?' Taylor asked. 'I just _punched_ him.'

'Taylor, you're female. Craig clearly has a thing for you. Hell, I doubt Dean would say no,' he told her.

'I'm _engaged_, Sam!' she cried. 'I don't care if Dean is being possessed – I'm not about to cheat on Don.'

'Taylor!' Sam cried, clearly exasperated. 'I'm not asking you to sleep with him. I'm just telling you to get him here.'

--

It took ages to find Dean. They realized he wasn't answering Sam's cell, and Taylor had obviously not charged hers up because the battery was dead.

In the end (after explaining that her car had been stolen) she had borrowed their Impala and headed up to Red Hook and the address that Sam had given her of the bookstore (under the implicit instructions that _the only way she was driving that car was because Dean was possessed and if she crashed it Dean _would _murder her!)_

He… they… were there, in the back, staring down at the lifeless body of Craig.

'Dean?' Taylor called softly, so as not to startle him.

'Taylor?' Dean returned. 'What are you doing here?'

'Oh my God? Is that Craig?' she cried, hurrying over to her dead ex and checking his pulse.

Dean watched her, his arms folded, and said nothing.

'What happened?' she asked, genuine tears in her eyes from seeing Craig like that – she didn't want to get back with him, but she certainly never wanted him dead.

'You knew him?' he asked, gauging her reaction.

Taylor nodded. 'First boyfriend.'

'Really?' Clearly, he didn't know that fact.

'Yeah,' she muttered as she wiped away her tears. 'What happened?' she repeated. 'Shouldn't we call the police?'

Dean walked over and wrapped his arm around her. 'I've already called them,' he lied.

Taylor nodded slowly. 'I'm sorry I hit you, Dean.'

'That's alright,' he told her, subconsciously rubbing his jaw where she had smacked him. 'I think you should get out of here,' he told her.

'I'm fine,' Taylor sighed.

'You're not,' he said. 'I can always tell when you're lying.'

Taylor inhaled sharply, remembering why she was there. 'Dean, I don't want to be alone.'

'You don't have to be,' he told her, closing the distance between them.

Taylor ducked out of his arms and headed to the door. 'Can we go back to yours?'

'Mine?' he questioned.

'At the motel,' she told him. 'Remember, you told me about it this afternoon.'

'Oh, yeah,' he responded quickly, managing to hid the confused look very quickly. 'Yeah, um, I'll go get us a cab.'

Taylor shook her head. 'Your car is outside. Why can't we go in that?' she flung his keys at him. 'And you really shouldn't leave the keys behind the sun visor – not in this city – not if you want to return to a car.'

Dean eyed the keys suspiciously, but nodded, following her outside. He let out a low whistle when he spotted the car.

'What?' Taylor asked.

'Oh, nothing,' he said hurriedly. 'I just keep forgetting how cool my car is.'

The pair got into the car and Taylor had to fight to stop herself from rolling her eyes as Dean preened in the mirror. Admittedly it was a prettier reflection than Craig's original one, but still!

However, when Dean leant over and switched the radio on, pulled out the Judas Priest tape and flung it on the back seat, muttering how it was crap, before turning the radio on and settling with Lionel Ritchie, Taylor had to look out of the window. She'd been emailing Sam semi-regularly and he would frequently tell her that for once he would like control of the radio station and listen to something other than a metal band.

'So, do you know where this motel is?' Dean asked casually. 'Only I, uh, always get lost in this city.'

Taylor nodded and directed him back to the room.

--

Taylor bit her lip as she tried to keep the butterflies from churning in her stomach. Sam had told her that this was pretty much their only shot without having to incapacitate Dean first (or else, wait for some help from someone called Bobby) and she was beginning to feel the pressure. 'You were in two, right?' she asked him.

'Yeah, Dean nodded, looking slightly confused as he tried to work out how he was going to open the door.

'Please tell me you didn't leave the card under the mat?' Taylor asked, knowing perfectly well that was where Sam would have placed it. 'This isn't the middle of the boonies, Dean, it's the city. You're just asking for it.'

Dean leant over and pulled the corner of the mat back. 'I guess I'll have to stop doing that,' he frowned.

'Yeah,' Taylor agreed.

He swiped the keycard and pushed the door open and flicked the light switch.

It didn't come on.

He stood there for a couple of seconds flicking it on and off, to no avail, frowning at the darkness.

'Just turn a lamp on,' Taylor muttered impatiently.

Dean looked sharply at her. 'Why are you so keen to get into my room?' he asked her.

'Dean, it's raining, it's late, and I'm engaged,' she told him. I don't want to be standing in the doorway to some other guy's motel room.'

Dean's expression softened as he held out his hand. Taylor gave him a nervous smile and accepted it.

* * *

_So, it's my first full weekend of in... weeks, and I decided that I wasn't going to get dressed. Then, I went to feed the rabbits and one of them is going bald, so it was a trip to the vet for them to pluck out his fur and tell me he can't live with his brother (so now he's living in a cardboard box). My washing maching is also on the blink, which is fun. But the point of this rambling - I am off, and could well be tempted, maybe daily, for a few days?!_


	179. Keeping it inside is killing me

_RK9 - No, well, probably, but the reason he's going bald is because his "brother" is pulling it out! It is a SN term - basically something capable of keeping a demon within it. That's really cool - as you can probably tell, I'm something of a fan of the supernatural! And I think you have the right idea there!_

_Madison Bellows - You should definately download, ahem, I mean, acquire SN by legal means! My weekend has consisted of rabbits and trying to make the flat look like it hasn't been inhabited by a tramp (it was sadly that bad) but it's sparkly now so I'm happy!_

_demolished-soul - I have plans for them to reappear later, but as for now, it's only another chapter after this one and then they're gone!_

_meadow567 - I did have to stop there - I'm scared no one will keep reading if it's not left on a cliffhanger!_

_brttmclv - lol, I was in stitches, but the funniest episode they've done was the groundhog day one where Dean kept dying - I was struggling to breath in some points!_

_princessg - It's alright, I could ramble over them all day - I think I do, sometimes. And it's only been a day - is this quick enough?_

_sparkyCSI - Ha ha! Yeah, off and spent cleaning! I think something is wrong in the world! lol - love that the lips are sealed. I think there's only you who _really_ knows what's going on, although Aphina knows a bit_

_Well, nothing but thanks to my marvelous beta, sparkyCSI!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 178: Keeping it inside is killing me**

Flack stared stormily at the screen in front of him.

'Son.'

He looked up and sighed. 'What's the matter, Dad?'

'What are you looking at?' his father asked as he walked around to the back of the desk to inspect what was on the monitor. Flack made no effort to minimize the page. 'Dean Winchester's arrest warrants? Do you know something?'

Flack stared at the page.

_It was late. Not late enough that most normal people would be in bed, but certainly late enough that most would be at home, rather than work. Feeling the need for a caffeine pick-me-up, Flack headed down the street to the _Starbucks_ and grabbed a large cup of their black stuff._

_He was walking back, thankful for the temporary reprieve in rain, sipping the drink, when he heard a familiar voice travelling up the alleyway. Peering down the barely lit alley his eyes picked out his fiancé. His fiancé who was standing a little too close to someone for his liking._

_Flack was nanoseconds away from heading down the alley and yanking him off her and into tomorrow, when the male figure leant over and kissed the female._

_It took his brain an instant to realize the person she was kissing was Dean Winchester._

_Too shocked to do much else, he backed away and walked into the precinct, sitting down heavily at his desk. He sat there for quite a while, staring, dumbfounded, through the coffee cup. Finally, long after the coffee had turned cold, he turned, almost robot like, to his computer and ran a search on Dean Winchester._

_What he found troubled him. He was firstly considered dead after being wanted for a murder in Baltimore, but that charge was just added to a long list (including credit card fraud, breaking and entering, grave desecration,_, impersonating a police officer_ Flack added mentally) when he was deemed the number one suspect in a bank robbery in Wisconsin not so many weeks ago._

_And yet, the only thing Flack could see was this guy making out with his girl in, what was effectively, his back yard._

_Taking a deep breath, Flack rose to his feet. There had to be a reasonable explanation to this. Evidence in context. Mac was always prattling on about that._

_He hopped into his car and headed home, calling Taylor as he went. But she wasn't answering – the call was going straight to voicemail – and there was no one at home._

_Trying desperately to not let his imagination get the better of him, he refused to sit around at home moping. Instead, he turned the car around._

_He was almost back at the precinct when he just happen to see her drive past, sitting shotgun in an all-too familiar Chevy Impala, the elder Winchester driving whilst the youngest was nowhere in sight._

_Flack did a u-turn in the road so suddenly; it was a mercy that the streets were empty. Putting all his police training to the test, he followed the Impala and its occupants at a safe distance to a motel. He pulled over, just out of sight to be noticed and watched as the pair exited the car and made their way to door. They stood in the threshold for a few moments until Dean opened the door._

_Feeling sick to his stomach, he watched as Dean extended his hand, Taylor accepting it, and then led her into the room, closing the door behind him._

_Completely at a loss as to what to do, he pulled away and returned to the precinct._

'Son?' His father's voice broke his thoughts again.

Flack sighed heavily. 'Leave it, dad.'

Sgt. Flack grabbed a chair from one of the many vacant desks and pulled it over. 'You know you can talk to me, Donnie.'

Flack brought his eyes up from the mug shot of Dean to meet his father's. 'Dad, I haven't been able to talk to you for a long time.'

'I don't see why not.'

Flack's eyebrows quickly knitted together. 'Six and a half years ago, you told me that Danny Messer was no good and that becoming friends with him would screw up any chances of promotion. And then-' he added, stopping his father from speaking. 'You tell me that a friend of his is no son of yours. That's why I haven't been able to talk to you in a long time.'

'I never-'

'Yes you did,' Flack cut him off again. 'Easter dinner. Mom had cooked goose, Paige had made pecan pie for desert, and you told me that it was time I moved out.'

'Donnie,' Sgt Flack started softly. 'I only ever wanted what was best for you. Messer is trouble. I've proven that time and time again, but that Taylor is too stubborn to listen. He'll be the downfall of the lab.'

'Who?' Flack asked, rolling his eyes. 'Mac, or Danny?'

Sgt. Flack eyed his son. 'Clearly this isn't about Messer. So what's troubling you, son?'

'Dad, you can't ask me that,' Flack told him, rising to his feet. 'Not anymore. Not after what you've put me and my friends through in the past few weeks.'

'So this is what this is about?' Sgt. Flack asked him, also standing.

'Believe it or not, this isn't actually about you,' Flack told him harshly. 'Not everything is.'

'Donnie, that's not the way to talk to your father.'

Flack swiped his hand through the air, inadvertently sending his cup of cold coffee flying. 'You don't get it, do you? _Dad_ is just a word.'

Sgt. Flack's eyes showed hurt for the briefest of seconds before they blackened with anger. 'Then that's no way to talk to a superior officer.'

'Yeah, but you're not _my_ superior officer, are you? You're just an interfering old man who has nothing better to do than arrest innocent people.'

'You are out of line,' Sgt. Flack snapped, jabbing a finger at Flack.

'No,' Flack snapped back. 'You were. Maybe retirement was the best place for you.'

Sgt. Flack brought himself up to his full height. 'Maybe it's you Internal Affairs should be looking at,' he told his son, nodding his head in the direction of the computer monitor.

'Well maybe you should,' Flack told him, grabbing his jacket and brushing past him.

--

Taylor walked nervously over to the bed and perched down on the edge of it.

'Something isn't right,' Dean said, staying by the window.

Taylor glanced up at him, swallowing. 'What?'

Dean turned slowly to face her. 'This.'

Taylor smiled nervously. 'I'm sitting on a bed, alone in a motel room with a guy I'm not engaged to.'

'Exactly.'

Taylor rose to her feet. 'Maybe this isn't such a good idea,' she mumbled, taking a step to the door.

The next thing she knew, she was lying flat out on her back on the bed, Dean standing over.

'This isn't you, Taylor,' he told her.

Taylor blinked, trying to get upright, but he was holding her down. 'Dean? What are you doing?'

Dean withdrew a deep breath. 'You know, I always could tell when you were lying,' he said softly, gently caressing her face with his free hand.

'I don't know what you're talking about,' she told him, a hint of pleading to her tone.

He slapped her. 'Don't try to lie to me, Taylor.'

Taylor squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block the stinging sensation. She didn't open them until she heard a click and Sam's voice.

'I think it's about time we got you out of that body,' Sam told him coldly, a gun pointed to the back of his brother's head.

Bringing his hands up off Taylor, holding them in the air, Dean swiveled around so that he was kneeling on the bed next to Taylor.

With a gasp, Taylor leapt of the bed and dashed behind Sam. As soon as she was clear, Sam lowered his gun.

'Idiot,' Dean/Craig snarled, leaping forward. Then he stopped suddenly, as though hitting an invisible wall.

'What the hell?' Taylor and Dean/Craig both asked at the same time.

'And that would be a Devil's Trap,' Sam explained calmly, pointing at the ceiling above the bed.

Taylor stared up at the elaborate circular design. 'And that can hold him?'

Sam nodded as he walked over to a chest of drawers and pulled out a dog-eared book, flipping it over to a specific page – the action suggesting it was a familiar thing. 'Crux sancta sit mihi lux. Non draco sit mihi dux,' he read, as Dean/Craig began to scream in pain. 'Vade retro satana. Nunquam suade mihi vana. Sunt mala quae libas. Ipse venena bibas.'

Taylor watched in horror as Dean's head tilted right back and a gush of what looked like black smoke poured from his mouth. Finally, as the smoke disappeared into the ceiling, Dean's limp body fell back onto the bed. 'Is he alright?' Taylor asked him.

Sam nodded, relief filling his features. 'He's gonna wake up with a killer headache, but he'll be fine.' He turned and eyed the journalist who was watching the pair anxiously. 'I'm not trying to get rid of you, but it's late. Isn't that fiancé of yours going to worry?'

'More than likely,' Taylor agreed. 'Just do me a favor and call me, or even drop me an email, just so I know he's alright.'

'Alright,' Sam told her. 'And Taylor?'

Taylor paused by the door. 'Yeah?'

'I'm sorry about Craig.'

Taylor gave him a small smile. 'Thanks Sam.'

* * *

_Timeline wise, for all you _Supernatural _fans, we're looking at it being nearly the end of Season 2 – probably around the time of _Roadkill _and_ Tall Tales_, but as this is a CSI:NY fic, we won't worry too much about that!_

_On a slightly different note - ya'll will like this. It turns out my vet is stupid (glad she's not my doctor). Let me explain... After being told that my two remaining baby bunnies were boys, I pulled them out of the cage away from dad, and in their own. And then it transpires that one of them is pregnant. So I am going to be a _great_ grantmother at the age of 23! Oh, and the reason why Snuffles is going bald - because "Dylan" was telling him to back off and stop humping "him"._


	180. Sometimes goodbye's the only way

_The Corrupter - Yeah - I didn't know you had read my truely awful Miami series, lol! A FF award? How's that gonna work? And thank you!_

_RK9 - It is lucky (because I really like that name!) I think the trust problem really comes from the other side!_

_bloodredcherry - welcome and thank you for the review! I have a lot planned - I'm just trying to make it to the end, but yeah, there will be problems in her job (although I don't want to give too much away!) but I'm glad you're enjoying!_

_Madison Bellows - I have no idea how I will cope with the rabbits - I don't have the time for more!! More bad stuff is coming (I'm a sucker for angst) but it's only gonna have to get better! _

_meadow567 - it is incest (:s) It turns out that breeding mom with son is alright, but brother and sister - not so much. Oh dear (:c)_

_princessg - I really do wish life was simple!! But then again, life would be boring. Another quick update for ya - just with more angst...!_

_sparkyCSI - I know how you feel, but I have changed it slightly. And he will, which makes me think I may have added to this chapter!_

_Hmmm, so I'm begining to think that I may have altered this chapter after I sent it to my beta, sparkyCSI... so all mistakes are mine!_

_Forest Angel - I couldn't realy let anything bad happen to Dean (I'm too soft) but this chapter is explanation time._

_brttmclv - I have no idea how I'm going to cope, but I think the writers have actually killed every Winchester, right? Lol, I can just imagine him kicking ass as a ghost although i really don't want that to happen. I feel the dun dun dun's are needed...!_

_I was gonna wait until this evening, but the fact of the matter is I'm in an exceptionally good mood. I did the craziest thing and. well, bought a plane ticket and in five weeks today I am going back to Baton Rouge! So now I am going to let you read whilst I go and convey my happiness into chapters!_

**

* * *

****What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 179: Sometimes goodbye's the only way**

Taylor crept into the house feeling like a teenager trying to get in unnoticed after coming back way after curfew. She took her time closing the door so that it made only the softest click as it shut. She let out a breath she had been holding, and turned, freezing as her eyes fell on Flack, who was staring back at her.

'Hey,' she said softly.

Flack remained staring at her. 'Where have you been?'

'You're up late,' she told him, lightly, avoiding answer the question.

'Where have you been?' he repeated.

'You wouldn't believe me if I told you,' Taylor told him softly, walking over and kissing his cheek.

Flack stood, stoic. 'Try me.'

Taylor took a step back and looked up at him. 'Are you alright? Did something happen tonight?'

'Taylor, I've tried had, I really have,' Flack told her sadly, 'but I can't take this much longer. I know where you were this evening.'

'It was a last minute thing,' Taylor told him. 'I wouldn't have gone for dinner with him if I knew what was going to happen.'

'You went for _dinner_ with him?' Flack asked, outraged.

'Yes,' Taylor nodded carefully. 'But I told him I was getting married and we were over and done with. We were over and done with a long time ago.'

'How long have you been seeing him behind my back?' Flack asked, his voice breaking.

Taylor frowned. 'We split up years before us.'

'I didn't know you knew Dean.'

'Dean?' Taylor stared at him. 'I was talking about Craig.'

'Taylor, I saw you kissing Dean,' Flack told her. 'And I don't know where that leaves us now.'

Taylor stared at him, her heart suddenly plummeting into the depths of her stomach. 'Don?'

'I looked at his records. Did you know he's wanted in connection to a murder?'

Taylor shook her head.

'No, I figured you didn't. What is it with you and criminals?'

'Now that's not fair!' Taylor objected.

'Well, I guess it shouldn't be a problem for you to worry about anymore,' he told her.

'What do you mean?' Taylor asked him, not liking his tone.

'Put it this way: the FBI knows he's in this city.'

'Don! That's not fair!'

'Fair?' Don snapped. 'Where did _fair_ come into it when he was kissing you in that alley?'

'Don,' Taylor started. 'That kiss… it wasn't… it wasn't like that-'

Flack shook his head as he place a hand at the top of each of her arms. 'It doesn't matter, Taylor. The point is that for some reason you felt you couldn't tell me about it. And this isn't the first thing – it's just another on a list of many.'

'Just because I have issues opening up doesn't mean I don't love you, Don.'

'No,' Flack sighed. 'I just don't think you love me enough. I was hoping getting married would change that – would show you that I'm not going anywhere-'

'Is this what this is about?' Taylor asked pulling the ruby engagement ring of and holding it up. 'This?'

'No,' Flack told her, simply.

'Look, if this was moving too fast for you, then you can have it back,' Taylor told him, a hint of desperation in her voice.

Flack looked at the small ring lying on the palm of his hand. 'It's not me this was moving too fast for,' he sighed. His eyes rose to meet hers. 'I'm going to move in with Danny for a while.'

'Don?' Taylor questioned in a tangled voice.

'I love you, Tay, I really do. But the fact of the matter is we need a break. This isn't good for either of us.' With a sad smile, he leant over and kissed her forehead. 'Love you.' He made his way to the door, pausing to look back. 'I'm sorry, Taylor.'

Taylor watched him close the door, before looking down at her hand. Staring up at her was the ring – Flack had pressed it into her hand before he had left. Bringing her fist tight around it, Taylor sunk to the bare wooden floors as she stared at the door, the only sound coming from the cast on the other hand as it hit the floor next to her.

--

The sun was beginning to rise when she was disturbed by a gentle knocking at the door. She was on her feet, flinging it open in seconds. 'Don?' she asked hopefully.

Dean shook his head as the smile fell from Taylor's face. 'What's up Nancy Drew?'

'You shouldn't be here,' she told him, her voice hollow as she retreated back into the darkness of her house.

'Why?' Dean asked, rubbing the back of his head. 'Look, Sam filled me in – I'm sorry, Taylor.'

'It's a little late for that,' she told him bitterly.

'What's happened?' he asked her.

Taylor looked up at him. 'The FBI knows you're in the city,' she responded, avoiding the question.

'Slightly more concerned about you than the feds,' Dean retorted. His expression softened. 'Is this about your ex?'

Taylor looked up at him, tears finding their way to lining her eyes. He didn't know… he couldn't… but…

'Taylor,' Dean stepped forward, ready to pull her into a hug.

Taylor jerked herself backwards, out of his reach. 'You should go,' she told him. 'Please,' she added.

Dean nodded and then backed out of the door leaving Taylor all alone in the house.

--

The only thing that kept Taylor from wallowing in her bed over the next few days was Cordelia.

She didn't have to pick the child up until after school, that day. Not long after the Winchester brothers had left, Taylor had curled up on the couch and hit play on her computer (until the study was finished, the laptop had been set up in the living room). After working her way through just about every genre on there – and there were a lot – she was feeling thoroughly miserable.

Maddy turning up didn't help.

'Are you going to lie there all day?' Maddy asked her, hands on her hips.

Taylor, who was lying upside down on the couch just about managed to shake her head. 'Gotta pick Cordy up from school in a few hours.'

'And until then, you're staying there?'

'Yup,' Taylor told her, turning up the music.

'Drowning me out with Kelly Clarkson isn't going to get rid of me!' Maddy declared.

'No,' Taylor agreed. 'But it will drown you out.'

Clearly not the right thing to say because Aiden and Eirik turned up. And Aiden shut the lid on her laptop.

Taylor glared at them. 'Unless you have some stupid-ass dead guy needing my help, just leave me alone.'

'Why is talking such a difficult thing with you?' Maddy asked her.

'You know we can't tell anyone, right?' Eirik added, softly.

'Don walked out. What else is there to say?' Taylor asked them bitterly.

As the two female ghosts shared a look, Taylor wandered into the kitchen and pulled the old freezer open. Grabbing the Ben & Jerry's, she wandered back to the couch and plonked back down on it. 'Oh, you're still here,' she muttered as she dug the spoon in.

'Don't you think you should talk to him?' Aiden suggested, perching on one of the many boxes.

Taylor looked gloomily over at her. 'No.'

Maddy growled. 'So you're gonna let a good thing walk away?'

Taylor dropped the ice cream tub on the floor, sent a glowering look at the three ghosts and strode upstairs to the bathroom where she turned the water on as hot as she could possibly bear and got in. Within minutes, she was sat down with her arms wrapped around her legs, crying.

--

The following morning, after dropping Cordelia off (and avoiding answering the question of where Flack was), she had gone to the pet store and bought an aquarium. She was making the seventh or eighth trip from the kitchen with a bucket of water when there was a knock at the door. 'It's open!' she yelled as she poured the water in the tank.

'Dear God, girl, please tell me you don't leave your door unlocked – I don't care which part of the city you live in,' Sasha's voice echoed around the room. 'Wow,' she muttered as she spotted the dark haired journalist. 'You look like crap.'

Taylor shrugged as she walked past, back into the kitchen. Frankly, she didn't care.

'I hope that's not to drown yourself in,' Sasha only half joked as Taylor walked in with another bucketful.

'Can't do that to Cordy,' Taylor muttered as she poured the water in.

'Look, I'm here about the birthday shindig for that cop friend of yours.'

'Lindsay,' Taylor corrected her. 'She's a CSI,' but she set the bucket on the floor.

'Well, either way, I have tried and tried, but there is no chance there's gonna be a meet and greet. They're going to do eight songs and that's going to be it.'

'I didn't expect anything else,' Taylor told her. A small smile played across her lips. 'You got the club to agree to the dress code though, right?'

Sasha grinned. 'You bet you I did.'

The smile grew a little more. 'I can't wait to tell Messer.'

'And have you got any cute single friends who you can set me up with?' Sasha asked her.

'Good question. I should be able to say Messer himself, but he did jet off to Montana for the woman herself,' she shook her head at the puzzled look Sasha was giving her. 'Let's assume he's not single. Okay, if Marty makes it back, he's single, last time I checked, Hawkes was single, I have no idea what's going on with Adam… And I guess Don is back on the market.'

'Don?' Sasha frowned. '_Don_ Don? As in your Don?'

'Not mine anymore,' Taylor told her. 'Well, I don't think so. He's staying at Danny's.'

Sasha sunk onto the couch. 'Wow. We are so getting you drunk at that party.'

Taylor shook her head. 'Nah. Besides, I haven't gotten a sitter for Cordelia.'

Sasha shook her head firmly. 'Oh no. We still have a week. You are going to that party – I'll find that sitter myself. You need to get back out there. That party's going to be open to the public.'

'Sasha,' Taylor began, but stopped at the sound of someone knocking at the door. 'Sash, I broke up with him _two _days ago. I'm not in the mood for meeting someone else. IT'S OPEN!' she yelled.

'Drew, don't tell me you left that door unlocked?' Danny asked as he walked into the front room. 'Oh,' he said, seeing Sasha. 'You're Sasha, right?'

Sasha nodded. 'Hi Danny,' she smiled. She turned to Taylor. 'Alright, so I won't expect you to leap back in that saddle, but you are still coming out next week.' She waved goodbye and disappeared.

'Hi Danny,' Taylor muttered, more so to fill the quiet.

'Wow, you look like crap,' Danny told her.

'So I've been told,' Taylor returned dryly.

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. 'If it makes you feel any better, Flack looks like crap too.'

Taylor looked at him and sighed softly. 'Not really, but thanks.'

'Well, I do actually have a reason for being here,' Danny told her. 'We think we've found your car.'

Taylor's eyes widened as she leapt to her feet. 'Where?'

Danny shrugged. 'Down by the docks.'

'Well what are we waiting for?' she demanded.

* * *

_So now is probably not the time to ask considering you all have fallen out with me (have faith!), but as you've probably gathered from the chapter titles, the majority come from song lyrics - if you know of any that might fit, please feel free to send them me!_


	181. I’ve nothing left to lose after losing

_laplandgurl - The rabbits are keepin gme very busy at the moment! They will, because I dont like them apart - it's more of the point that she doesn't open up!_

_RK9 - lol - love the mantra, and I'm not going to be that mean, I promise - I'm only a few chapters ahead and they're together!!_

_demolished-soul - she has a lot of explaining, but she doesn't - she sucks! But you do make a valid point! lol_

_Alana Xavier - I was very harsh, I know! But she really needs to learn how to talk!_

_sparkyCSI - Oh, now you're asking. I think I had _Because Of You_ in my mind when I wrote it! I know the feeling - somehow it just feels so wrong!_

_meadow567 - I promise that there will be no "they were on a break" story! And there will be no cheating - that I can also promise!_

_Aphina - No; no yay to that! Lol, sometimes I think I'm constantly setting things up - my mind is always about ten chapters ahead!_

_Thoren - Yay on the ungroundedness! But they will be back together - I promise!_

_Madison Bellows - The party is a small ways off - there will be fluff - but I have to deal with this car first... and it's not good. Lyrics wise, anything involving life, death, demons, angels - something along those lines!_

_brttmclv - they are trouble, but they're pretty so I'll forgive them!_

_So, many thanks to my awesome beta, sparkyCSI_

**

* * *

******

What The Eyes Can't See

**Chapter 180: I've nothing left to lose after losing you**

Isabella Mendes was not the sort of woman who scared easily. She wasn't afraid of the dark, enclosed spaces, heights – nothing… well, maybe spiders freaked her out, because, seriously, why would anything need that many eyes?

Not being scared of much meant that diving really suited her. She'd been born in the water – her mother had wanted to try a birthing tub for her fifth child – and had been swimming in the family pool back home in Florida from a very young age.

But as her eyes searched through the murky waters of the East River and fell upon the dim outline of the upside down classic muscle car, she knew something wasn't right – and her gut was usually right.

She swam closer to the car. The water was so dark down there that the light had to be inches away from the paneling before she could work out the color of the car.

Isabella shone the light through the windows – there was no one there. Something which she was thankful for in some respects, but that left the trunk. Or worse – the glove compartment. She'd had that one before and it _really _hadn't been pretty.

She changed direction, heading for the tow hook and attached the steel cable she had brought down with her. With a final tug to check it was secure, she followed the cable back up to the surface and the awaiting extraction vehicle.

By the time she surfaced, she had acquired quite a crowd of onlookers. Normally she wouldn't have been surprised, but the area had been secured. Or, at least, was supposed to have been.

Angrily, she pulled off her flippers and ascended the rope ladder she had flung down before she jumped in. The oxygen tank had barely hit the floor before she was marching over. 'Excuse me, but this is a crime scene – my crime scene!' she told the three people as she all but ripped her hood off.

'Maddy?'

--

Taylor stood in the drizzle watching the rear end of her beloved car be pulled out from the swirling water of the Hudson. 'Oh, Danny,' she sighed as the water gushed out of the windows.

'That doesn't look promising,' Angell muttered. 'Sorry, Tay.'

'I hope my insurance covers that,' she mumbled miserably. 'My premiums are already through the roof with house insurance.'

'Hey, you never know – a bit of TLC might fix it,' Danny shrugged. 'If Louie ever appears, and doesn't get thrown in the slammer for not meeting with his parole officer-'

'Still no sign of him?' Taylor asked him.

Danny shook his head. 'Nadda.'

'What about his tracker?'

'Unreliable pieces of junk,' Angell told them, forcibly.

Taylor looked over at her. 'Wow, you sound bitter.'

'Bain of my life – and I'm not even a parole officer.'

'Excuse me, but this is a crime scene – my crime scene.'

Taylor turned to see a something resembling a black jelly baby striding towards her. The jelly baby pulled off its hood and long bleached blond hair fell down, framing her face. 'Maddy?' she cried, unable to stop herself. The resemblance was uncanny, especially in the grey light: Short, lithe, peroxide blonde hair which hid the black color it once was, and a skin tone which belied the fact there was some form of Spanish heritage in her.

'Excuse me?' Isabella asked, her anger not dissipating.

Taylor blinked. 'I'm sorry; you look like someone I used to know.'

'I don't care if I look like the Queen of England, this is a crime scene.'

'Detective Angell,' Angell told her, pulling out her badge. 'That's Detective Messer,' she added as he followed suit.

'And what about her?' Isabella asked, nodding her head in Taylor's direction.

'That's my car,' Taylor told her, pointing to the vehicle which was still draining water.

Isabella pursed her lips but nodded. 'You're going to have to stay back. I need to pop the trunk.' Instead of waiting for a response, she walked straight over to the trunk, and nodded to one of her team to pop it. When it didn't work, she accepted the crow bar another was offering and yelled, 'stand clear.'

The second it popped open, all those standing downwind gagged.

'Oh God,' Taylor muttered, covering her mouth as she moved closer to her car. 'Is that-?'

Isabella sighed and turned to the officer who had given her the crow bar. 'Lisa, you're going to have to call the coroner. And the CSIs.'

'Lucky for you, there's one right here,' Danny told her.

Isabella eyed him up and down skeptically. '_Unluckily _for you, I think you may be a little too involved in this,' she told him with a nod at Taylor.

--

'Good morning, Sid,' Stella greeted the coroner cheerfully.

'Good morning yourself,' he returned. 'You're awfully cheerful for someone who's awaiting the details of human stew. In fact, you're glowing.' He unclipped his glasses and cocked his head thoughtfully. 'If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were…'

Stella nodded, beaming. 'Six weeks. But I haven't told anyone yet.'

Sid smiled happily. 'Congratulations, Stella. And don't worry; Mum's the word.'

Stella smiled gratefully. 'Thanks, Sid.' She nodded her head at the bloated body. 'So, is he still a John Doe?'

'For now,' Sid nodded, leading her over to the microwave. 'However,' he said, pulling out a shallow bowl with a chunk of flesh in the middle of it, 'You'd have to confirm it, but it looks like your John Doe was Tanglewood Boy.'

Stella sighed. 'Great,' she muttered, dryly.

'Sadly, it doesn't get any better,' Sid informed her, leading her back to the body. 'Cause of death was drowning.'

Stella looked down at the bloated body – the water had distorted the face badly, but there was also a large chunk of his head missing. 'You mean he survived that?'

'Surprisingly, the gunshot wound to the temple didn't kill him outright,' Sid told her, almost apologetically. 'Effectively, it paralyzed him. He didn't die quickly, nor painlessly.'

'Thanks Sid.'

The coroner nodded. 'I'll page you if the dentals pull an ID.'

--

'Penny for them?'

Lindsay, who had been absent mindedly been watching the DNA machine work, looked up and jolted back into reality. 'Huh?'

'Penny for them?' Danny repeated, placing a brand new, shiny penny on the work top in front of her. 'They're not worth that,' Lindsay shrugged with a smile.

'How about if I said I was taking you out for dinner?' he asked, whispering into her ear, his actions masked to look like he was staring intently at a sheet of paper which was lying on the table in front of Lindsay.

Lindsay looked up and over at Adam who was absorbed in his results, frowning. He looked up and caught Lindsay looking before giving her a nervous look in return (something akin to a rabbit caught in headlights), before scarpering. 'What's up with him?'

Danny scoffed in her ear. 'I'm telling you I'm taking you to dinner and you want to talk about Adam? There somethin' you wanna tell me, Montana?'

--

Adam stared at the printout in his hands, his hairline prickling. He could feel his stomach drop. _This wasn't good! _He licked his lips nervously, looking up. _How long had Danny been there?_

Grabbing every print out, he thrust them into a folder and dashed out of the lab. Knowing Stella was in the garage examining Taylor's car with Hawkes, he made his way there.

'Hey Adam,' Hawkes greeted him, appearing from having his head in the trunk. 'Unless you don't have a date this evening, I suggest you stay away.'

'Where's Stella?' Adam asked, barely even hearing Hawkes.

'Examining the floor mats,' Hawkes informed him, pointing over to the corner. 'Is everything alright?'

Adam hurried over to Stella, ignoring Hawkes. 'Stella?'

Stella looked up from the black floor mat she was hunched over. 'Hi'ya Adam.' She frowned, noting his worried expression. 'What's the matter?'

'You need to read this,' he told her, thrusting the folder into her arms.

Stella frowned, her lips moving slightly as she read the document. She looked sharply at Adam. 'Is this right?'

'Double and triple checked it,' Adam nodded miserably.

'Does he know?'

Adam quickly shook his head. 'No. I came straight here.'

Stella nodded. 'Good. Right; we need to see Mac.'

--

Mac's eyes quickly scanned the paper for a second time.

'It's right, Mac,' Stella informed him soberly, as though reading his mind as to his next question.

Mac looked up, his eyes meeting hers. He sighed, setting the paper down. 'I'd best talk to him then.' He gave the sheet one last check and sighed again. 'Will you call Taylor, too? This involves her.'

--

'You wanted to see me?' Danny asked, poking his head into Mac's office.

'Come in and close the door.'

'Whazzamatta?' Danny asked as he walked in and sat down.

'We've identified the body from the trunk of Taylor's car.'

Danny looked expectantly at him.

'Danny, it's Louie.'

'Lou-?' he stopped, his voice breaking.

'I'm sorry, Danny,' Mac sighed.

Danny leapt to his feet, his eyes flashing. 'Who did it, Mac?' he demanded. 'When I get hold of them-'

'Danny, the only thing you are doing is going home.'

'But Mac-' Danny protested, his voice straining.

'Danny, you're going home,' Mac repeated, firmly. He looked up, spotted Flack, and waved him in.

'Come on, Dan,' Flack muttered, softly.

Danny rose to his feet, his shoulders sagging, and walked out of the office.

'Watch him, Don.' Mac told the detective.

Flack nodded. 'I won't leave his side,' he promised.

* * *

_Okay, so I have been requested to spread the word about the CSI:NY Fanfiction Awards. The Corrupter has decided that it's time authors were recognised and rewarded for their efforts so she wants you to check out the forum "CSI:NY Fanfiction Awards" and have a gander - nominate the fics you like and then we can vote. It sounds like fun, if nothing else, and the rules are written in there. I suspect she's eventually going to PM a whole bunch of you anyway!_

_And, shameless plug - you can vote for me (:D) Serious note though - there are a wide range of categories on there ranging from Best Oneshot to Best Slash! Give it a go and lets have some fun!_


	182. Please, please forgive me, but I won’t

_The Corrupter - I will fix it... In the next chapter or two, I think! And yes, she is!_

_laplandgurl - I'd be gutted if that was my car (my car is my baby, lol!) They will clear the air, I promise!_

_meadow567 - Yeah, it kinda boils down to them. I was gonna wait a while before hitting this one, but I got bored of TW and wanted to get rid of them once and for all!_

_Aphina - Of course there's a shameless plug (but it's only to get people to check it out... honestly...!) Well, I certainly do hope it shocked!_

_RK9 - It was nominated (I feel special!) How did it work a few years back?? Um, I was hoping I'd created that character by myself (:s) so let me know if you work it out! And Ruben is alive here - it's a while before that storyline!_

_demolished-soul - it just kinda happened. And lot's of trouble - I'm getting a rid of TW!_

_hardylover7477 - lol, whilst I'm glad I shocked you, I kinda wish I had thought of that idea! I suck! lol_

_Alana Xavier1 - I am in a mean frame of mind, or at least I was when I wrote this. Currently I'm a very happy chappy so the later stuff is a lot nicer. However, until then, I will accept I suck!_

_Thoren - She will see him, but there's a reason as to why she hasn't seen him already - which he will tell her later!_

_sparkyCSI - lol, glad you liked it, even if it made you sad! (It made me sad too!)_

_Madison Bellows - Hey I completely understand! I can't believe how well it's taking off - the awards, I mean! (That being said, I have happy feelings too!) Hardly anyone picked up on that - I think I shocked everyone too much! lol_

_princessg - aw, I guess I lost your vote, lol. Sorry about making you wait! That sucky thing called work got in the way - wednesdays and thursdays are pretty much nineteen hour days for me!_

_Okay, well, thanks to my beta, sparkyCSI!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 181: Please, please forgive me, but I won't be home again**

Taylor arrived a while after Danny had left, and walked anxiously into Mac's office. 'Can this possibly wait until tomorrow?' she asked, looking at her watch. 'I've got to pick up Cordelia soon and I haven't done whatever I'm supposed to have done.'

'What makes you say that?' Mac asked her.

Taylor pulled a face, shifting on the spot. 'Because I'll have to defend myself for something I haven't done-'

'Taylor,' Mac interrupted, holding up his hand as he shook his head. 'We identified the body in your car.'

'And how does this relate to me?' she asked, eyeing her watch again.

'It's Louie.'

'Louie who?' she asked, half distracted as she tried to work out the latest time she could leave and still get to the school on time.

'Louie Messer,' Mac elaborated.

Taylor looked up meeting Mac's gaze. 'What about Louie?'

Mac sighed wearily. 'He's dead.'

Taylor slumped heavily into the chair. 'Are you sure?' she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Mac nodded solemnly.

'I, uh… I should go get Cordy,' Taylor muttered, her eyes lining with tears.

'Do you need a ride?' Mac asked her.

Taylor shook her head. 'I think…' she shook her head again.

--

Taylor stood in the doorway of Cordelia's room, watching the child play with her imaginary friend, Robin. (A while back, she had heard the child chattering away and when she'd asked who she was talking to, was told it was her friend new friend Robin. Taylor, of course, had panicked, and had only been stopped from taking her to a psychologist when Flack pointed out that it was just an imaginary friend and a lot of children had them.)

With a sigh, she turned and headed downstairs where she pulled a bottle of Southern Comfort from the fridge, before leaning wearily back against it.

'Hey, chica,' Maddy muttered, softly, appearing to her right.

Taylor looked up and dropped the bottle. 'Louie?' she choked, staring at his body, his head missing a small chunk.

'I thought it was you,' he told her.

'What?' Taylor asked, her voice breaking.

'I thought it was you,' he repeated.

Taylor looked at Maddy. 'Please don't do this to me,' she whispered.

--

Mac walked into the ballistics lab, his expression grim. 'Have we found anything yet?' he asked Stella and Hawkes, who were sat in silence, watching the computer.

Stella shook her head, her curls bouncing slightly. 'Computer's running at the minute.'

Mac walked over and joined them in the staring.

'I can't believe it's Louie,' Hawkes muttered with a sigh.

'Did you find anything in the car?'

Stella shrugged. 'Plenty. Kendall's running it now. The problem is, it probably all belongs to Taylor, Flack, Cordelia and the pig.'

'There were only a handful of prints that hadn't been damaged by the water,' Hawkes sighed. 'And Adam is probably going to say the same thing.'

Mac frowned. 'I spoke to Louie's parole officer. She said that Louie had never missed a meeting until a week ago.'

'And why wasn't it followed up?' Stella asked.

Mac shrugged. 'Same old story. She had other pressing parole jumpers and a workload for three.'

'We need a timeline,' Stella decided, grabbing a chalk pen from the draw and wandering over to the wall, drawing a line. 'Sid thinks TOD was a week ago, he missed a parole hearing a day after that.'

'He was at work on two days before that,' Hawkes added. 'He took the particulars on my stab victim.'

Stella cocked her head. 'So where was he for the two days in between?'

At a knock at the door, the three of them turned, finding Peyton, her eyes red rimmed. 'Dental records came back,' she told them. 'It confirmed the DNA,' she added, as though she had been hoping there had been a mix up in the lab. She walked into the room and over to the CSIs.

'You were working with Louie on Halloween, right?' Mac asked, giving her hand a squeeze.

Peyton nodded. 'Yes. It was just your average night,' she started before trailing off.

'What?' Mac asked her, gently.

Peyton inhaled deeply. 'It's probably nothing, but Sid and I caught the tail end of an argument.'

'Who with?' asked Stella.

Peyton pursed her lips. 'Taylor. But I didn't really catch what they were saying,' she added hurriedly. 'All I caught was Taylor telling him to go to Hell.'

Mac's lips disappeared into a thin line.

'Mac, you don't surely think?' Stella asked him, surprised.

Mac shook his head. 'Taylor didn't kill anyone,' he agreed.

--

Flack looked over at Danny's sleeping form. It had taken hours, but he had finally convinced his friend to get a couple hours of sleep on the couch. Or not.

'You look like crap,' Danny's husky voice told him quietly.

'Can't say you look any better,' Flack shot back at him.

Danny's lips curved into a small, brief, smile. 'Why did you do it?'

'Do what?' Flack asked him.

Danny just raised his eyebrows in response.

Flack leant back into the seat and sighed. 'I need her to talk to me,' he told him. 'I need her to trust me. I was hoping it… she didn't and I couldn't just… I miss her, Dan.'

Danny pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his already red eyes. 'If it makes you feel any better, she's a mess.' Danny groaned and pulled himself to his feet. 'I'm gonna have to call my Mom,' he muttered, his voice breaking again.

Flack just nodded – Danny didn't need him asking if he was alright – he wasn't. That much was clear.

--

Isabella was back in the murky waters of the river. To her, it didn't matter what time she was in the water – that far down, and the river not being quite as clean as it should have been, the time of day made no difference. Her only regret was that she was working a nightshift – since moving to the city she had tried to convince herself that she wouldn't be working nights so that she could be at home with her fifteen year old son, Jake, but sadly, that didn't always fly.

Knowing that Jake would be at home, doing his homework (he wanted to be a doctor), she turned her attention back to the riverbed. The metal detector was flashing away constantly. It sickened her to be clearing so much crap from the floor – it didn't matter what the state, people would still dump anything and everything into the water systems.

The detector flashed again, and Isabella gently brushed some silt away, revealing a gun. She carefully picked it up – it was a Glock. She dropped it into her net bag and continued to check the river bed. A while, and much more trash, later, the detector picked up something else. She wasn't entirely certain, but it looked somewhat like a tracking device. It too joined the gun and the handful of other evidence she had collected.

Finally, the alarm on her breathing equipment bleeped, alerting her that the oxygen levels were getting low. She surfaced and pulled herself onto the small powerboat before heading back to the docks.

A while later, after calling home to check that Jake was up and getting ready for school (it was getting to be that time already) she was heading to the crime lab, evidence properly bagged and labeled and stored in a box.

'Excuse me,' she called to a man in a lab coat.

Hawkes turned and stared at the woman in a mixture of confusion and surprise.

'Are you okay?' Isabella asked him uncertainly.

Hawkes nodded slowly. 'You look… familiar. Have we met before?'

Isabella shook her head. 'I don't think so, unless you've been to Ft. Lauderdale?'

'Never been to Florida,' he muttered, frowning slightly. 'You just look…' he trailed off. 'How can I help you?'

'I'm here to drop off some evidence to the lead on my case. A Mac Taylor?'

'You're on the Messer Murder?' he asked in surprise.

Isabella shrugged. 'Case 107-NV-08-08-RHDR-32.'

Hawkes cocked his head. 'Impressive. I'd have had to check my notes for the case number.'

'I've just spent a few hours logging the evidence,' she told him, wryly.

Hawkes smiled. 'I'm heading to Mac's office now.'

--

After making sure that Cordelia was safely at school (and that Rikki and Ruben could look after her that evening), Taylor walked to the Crime Lab. She was exhausted – weeks of being unable to sleep, combined with nightmares when she could, on top of having spent the night listening to Louie tell her he _thought it was her_ were taking its toll. She had also come to the conclusion that she was going to have to see Mac. Which was where she was heading.

She stepped off the elevator, her breath momentarily stopping as she spotted Hawkes in one of the labs talking to Maddy's doppelganger.

'Who is that?' Maddy demanded, appearing beside her.

'Some diver-cop,' Taylor told her wearily.

'They look a little too cozy for my liking,' Maddy growled.

'Mads, they're examining some evidence,' Taylor told her, with no energy to tell her to shut up with the stupid-going-nowhere-crush. Especially with Louie standing mournfully next to her. She rubbed at her eye before heading down the corridor to Mac's fishbowl office.

He saw her coming before she got to the door and indicated that she come in. Taylor did as requested and sat down. 'Taylor?' he questioned.

'Mac, we need to… I think I need to tell you something,' Taylor told him, her voice breaking.

'I think that would probably be a good thing,' Mac agreed.

'I'm…' she bit at her lip as she looked away out of the window, fighting with herself to not cry. 'I didn't kill him, but I think it's my fault,' she told him, only just stopping the last bit from coming out as a sob.

Mac pursed his lips together but said nothing, waiting patiently for her.

'On Halloween I was attacked. I was going to pick Cordelia up from school and someone grabbed me. He told me that they weren't finished with me – they practically warned me someone was going to die.'

Mac eyed her. 'Do you know who it was?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Not a clue. But I got the feeling he was something to do with Sassone.'

'Taylor, why didn't you say something about this?' Mac asked her.

'I did come in to say something,' she told him. 'I really did. But I met Louie and we ended up arguing about it. The last thing he said was that he was going to sort it once and for all, and I told him to go to hell,' Taylor admitted before the tears finally overwhelmed her.

Mac sighed. 'Is there anything else you need to tell me?'

'I'm being haunted by Louie,' she sniffed.

Mac sat back trying hard not to comment. 'Taylor, I want you to go home. Go home and stay at home unless I tell you otherwise.'

'But Mac-'

'Taylor, I don't care if you think you are being haunted by the ghost of Elvis. Louie was found dead in your car, and the only evidence we're finding links back to you. I don't want you walking around this crime lab.'

'Mac-'

'I mean it, Taylor.'

Taylor got to her feet. 'I didn't kill him.'

Mac nodded. 'I know. Which is why I want you to go home.'

* * *

_CSI:NY Fanfiction Awards Forum!_


	183. Did you ever blame the world but never

_RK9 - Aw, thank you! lol, congrats on your win though! I've just spent ages having a look/sorting - I've been nominated in quite a few categories - it's so flattering!_

_demolished-soul - I think so, because I can see Maddy bringing some much needed relief. Sassone and Tanglewood are going down!!_

_sparkyCSI - You're right. I'm not sure I'd want to see them. Then again, on the flip side, if you were dead, would you want to be caught here and stopped from moving on to whatever the next level is?_

_meadow567 - here you go - happy to oblige!_

_princessg - Thank you! And I hope I didn't leave you waiting too long. Tay's gonna start opening up a little in the next few chapters, promise!_

_Forest Angel - They'll be back together very soon. I'm glad you've enjoyed!_

_Aphina - Bless, I wanna hug her too. I can be so cruel, can't I?!_

_laplandgurl - there are that many fics nominated - I have no idea how Shabbs is gonna get the numbers down (I mean, there were 39 suggestions for best author!) so I'm happy it's not me too! I think that eventually, Mac might believe her completely, I just think, that with it being Mac, it would take something big!_

_Shining Zephyr - I love hearing from new readers (and lurkers - and I fall into that category!). I think that sometimes my life is consumed by this fic, so that's really nice to hear. I know she can be a little Mary Sueish at times, but I just get carried away, so thank you!_

_So I'm trying something different here - and by that, I mean for me... this has already been done on this board... but I'm borrowing a character of sparkyCSI's - Cory Reid. Check her out in A Time To Heal (and the sequels). And also, much as I would love to, I can't take credit for all of this chapter as part was written by sparky!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 182: Did you ever blame the world but never blame you**

The bar was filled with smoke and a decidedly sketchy clientele, but the woman sitting at the bar didn't seem to mind. She was dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans and button down shirt, ignoring the leering of the men and the scathing looks from the woman who were dressed like hookers. She flipped her long red hair over her shoulder, nursing her second beer whilst checking her watch for the umpteenth time. _Damn it, he's late again, _she thought with a twinge of anger at the man's lack of respect.

Sighing, she had just pulled out her wallet to pay for her drink when a figure slipped onto the stool next to her. 'Hey babe, you're lookin' fine tonight," the man said.

"You're late," she returned. "Damn it, Anthony, you know how hard it is for me to meet you down here. I stick out like a sore thumb from a native New Yorker. You know how hard it is for me to hide my drawl?"

Anthony responded. "Sorry, Cory, but I was detained," he said before dropping his voice. "I have some information for you."

"It'd better be good," the woman name Cory responded, "or I'm pulling you out, Anthony. When I became SSA and took over the Tanglewood case, I expected things to move a bit faster. That was the idea. Bring in someone from the outside who has no ties to New York to bring the gang down faster."

"Yeah, I got that, Agent Reid," he sneered back to her. "Do you want the info for not?"

Cory sighed, her irritation at the man's lack of respect showing a bit. "What do you have?"

"You know the car that just got pulled outta the river?" he said lowly, making sure that the conversation wasn't being overheard. At Cory's almost imperceptible nod he continued, "Word is that is contained the body of Louie Messer?"

Cory furrowed her brow a bit. "Messer…Wasn't he the one that had the big falling out with Sassone a couple of years back? The one that got him arrest for murder?"

Anthony nodded. "Yup. It was an initiation killing. Sassone's been trying to get the writer into the fold and finally convinced her to kill Messer."

Cory's eyes lit up. "Really," she drawled. "I can work with that." She stood up and walked away from the bar and out into the clear night air.

--

Supervisory Special Agent Corrine Reid was sitting in her office, staring in shock at the papers in front of her. "I can't freaking believe it! How can the NYPD allow this? This isn't just crossing the line, this is flying over it with a fighter jet!" she seethed before rising from her desk and clipping her gun to her belt. With confidence, she strode out of her office and within an hour was standing in front of the desk of NYPD Inspector Stanton Gerrard.

"Inspector Gerrard, thank you so much for meeting with me," she said as she shook his hand.

Gerrard nodded to her as he motioned for to sit. "What brings the FBI to my doorstep?"

"The murder of Louie Messer."

Gerrard raised his eyebrows. "And that is important to the FBI how?"

"We've been monitoring the activities in Tanglewood for a long time. Recently I was brought in to help to…provide a pair of fresh eyes on the case. I've had an agent undercover with them for the past year," Cory began to explain.

Gerrard looked at her. "I still don't see why the murder of Louie Messer would be important to you. He has not been a part of Tanglewood since he ratted out Sonny Sassone a year ago."

"I know that, but I do believe that his murder was related to the gang," Cory persisted. "Plus, I think your lab has been compromised."

"What?"

Cory looked at Gerrard, disbelief forming in her eyes. "Come on, Inspector. Why is there a reporter running around the lab unchecked," she said.

"Taylor Turner," he stated baldly.

Cory nodded. "And, said reporter is getting access to crime scenes? Hell, she was accused of drug trafficking. If that's not being compromised then I don't know what is. Plus, from what I've heard, all the signs are pointing to that she is the one that killed Louie Messer. I want this case. I'm going to bring down Tanglewood."

Gerrard looked at her, seeing the resolution in her eyes as well as the fact that her thoughts were mirroring the thoughts that he'd been having about the lab for some time. Finally, he sighed. He hated having to give up jurisdiction over a case. "Okay. You can have the case, but I'll warn you, you are not going to be well liked."

Cory shrugged. "I don't care about being popular; I care about putting the criminals behind bars."

Gerrard nodded. "Follow me."

--

Taylor stepped into the elevator and hit the button before slipping back against the wall, contemplating whether or not she should go see Danny.

Which was when the door pinged open and Flack stepped in. He looked at her, before turning, standing just in front of her, and hit the button for the floor he wanted.

'Hi,' Taylor muttered.

Flack let out a sigh before hitting the emergency stop.

'What the hell are you doing?' Taylor demanded, walking over and slamming her fist on the button. The elevator jerked before continuing its descent.

Flack smacked it again before stepping in front of it and blocking it from Taylor as the lift again jerked to a halt. 'We need to talk.'

'So you decide to _stop the freaking elevator_?!' Taylor shrieked at him. 'Could you not have just come round?'

'We need to talk,' Flack repeated with a sigh.

'We did. You left.'

Flack nodded. 'Alright. _You_ need to talk. And I need to listen.'

'You walked out.'

'You didn't stop me,' Flack shot back.

'Don, if we have to do this, can we _please_ do it somewhere else, somewhere where there isn't that stupid alarm?' she all but begged him – the lack of sleep, the situation, combined with the ringing of the alarm bell was driving her mad.

'Fine,' Flack conceded, pressing the button again.

'Well, push it,' Taylor told him.

'I have,' Flack told her, slowly.

Taylor stared at him, eyes wide, before she stepped over and began hammering the button.

'Tay, I don't think that's a good idea,' Flack muttered, grabbing her hand.

Taylor glowered up at him. 'I didn't press it in the first place,' she snapped at him.

Flack sighed and hit the emergency call button.

'_Security.'_

'Hi, yeah, this is Detective Flack. I'm stuck in the elevator.'

'_Don't panic, sir. I'll get maintenance out there immediately._'

'Thanks,' Flack muttered, slumping back against the wall.

'Great,' Taylor muttered, leaning against the opposite wall and allowing herself to slide down it so she was sitting on the floor.

--

Mac was sitting behind his desk, his eyes pouring over the crime scene shots of Louie's bloated body in the trunk. Tiredly, he rubbed his eyes, stopping when he noticed a short woman with a determined face making a beeline for his office door. Also accompanied by Gerrard.

With a sigh, he nodded for them to enter and waited patiently.

'Taylor, this is SSA Corrine Reid of the FBI,' Gerrard told him.

Mac nodded calmly. 'The badge gave it away,' he told him, nodding at said item hanging around her neck. 'The question is, why is the FBI in my lab?'

'Agent Reid is taking over the Messer case,' Gerrard shrugged, before walking out of the room, leaving Mac staring at the agent in front of him.

'I'm sorry, Agent Reid, but I cannot see how you could be interested in the murder of one of my morgue attendants, and more to the point, why you feel you should take control of my lab.'

Cory gave him a calm smile. 'Detective Taylor, I have control over this investigation now, and that is something I could choose not to share with you, however in the interest of cooperation, frankly, your lab has become compromised.'

'I beg your pardon?' Mac asked in cold outrage.

'I was assigned lead agent to bring down one of the four major gangs in this city, and what I find is that one of its members is working here in the crime lab, meanwhile, you have an unauthorized person running amok at crime scenes, never mind in the lab. Do you know how many violations that constitutes?'

Mac rose angrily to his feet. 'Agent Reid, the one thing that I value and respect, above all else, is the integrity of this lab and its staff. I _resent_ the implication that this lab has become compromised, _Agent_ Reid, and if you want _cooperation,_ I suggest you talking to me with a little more respect than that.'

Cory stared at him, and then nodded. 'Prove it. Prove to me you haven't become compromised.'

Mac met her steely gaze and nodded. 'Very well.'

* * *

_Well my eyes are blurry... I've just spent a good three hours copying all the fics nominated in the FFA into a spreadsheet - not including OCs and the individual fics in the series', there are, so far 147 fics! But there are still categories which have yet to have anything nominated. The categories have been finalised so go check them out - nominations end on May 5th!_


	184. Am I too lost to be saved?

_sparkyCSI - I am so tired! lol. Don't worry about it - I can still miss 'em and I always read something twice. Well, the polls are open...!_

_meadow567 - No, that's very true. So long as there's demand I'll keep em coming! Well, I think I have to encourage real life to go on holiday, but there we go!_

_Madison Bellows - I don't know, possibly because I wasn't sure I could do the characters justice, and then I just wasn't sure how they'd fit in. Too be honest, I think the majority of it was done - the polls are up now (:s), but thank you!_

_Aoife - lol, glad to see that I can still keep you happy. Sad but true, it's the reviews that keep me going - that and for the sake of my own sanity. And I promise they will get back together!!_

_Thoren - Maybe he's a little annoyed... alright, yeah, he's not happy!_

_laplandgurl - well you're on the right tracks! It's take me ages, and I really had no big part in it. Now I have the task of trying to create avatars - that will be a mamoth task!_

_Aphina - See, I like it when Mac gets annoyed too, because I'm not Mac's biggest fan, lol. It was the only way I could think of as to the getting stuck together and talking_

_demolished-soul - she's a woman on a mission and is just trying to do what's right - she does make a point: really, Tay shouldn't be in that lab! Although it is fun to write!_

_Forest Angel - I figured it was about time, and I'm hoping her being there will!_

_Shining Zephyr - I don't either, actually! lol, you certainly do. They're gonna start talking now though, which is always good!_

_Okely dokely, Cory belongs to sparky, not me - let's just make that clear because I can't take the credit!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 183: Am I too lost to be saved?**

Hawkes leant back and rubbed his eyes before swearing softly.

'You alright?' Isabella asked him.

'We have a match on the bullet,' he explained.

'And that's bad how?'

Hawkes sighed. 'The bullet is a match to the gun.'

'Alright,' Isabella said slowly. 'But I'm still not seeing how that's bad.'

'The gun is registered to Taylor.'

Isabella frowned. 'Your boss?'

Hawkes quickly shook his head. 'Taylor Turner – author of-'

'Crime Files,' Isabella finished. 'It was her car I found.'

Hawkes nodded. 'She's a friend.'

Isabella glanced over at the results. 'Look, I found that gun a fair distance from where the car was. It may be completely unrelated. We just have to wait for the DNA to come back on that…'

'DNA evidence which looked suspiciously like brain matter?' Hawkes finished.

Isabella smiled softly. 'Until we get the results, _that_ could be anything.'

'Detective Mendes, I worked in the morgue before I became a CSI. I know what brain matter looks like.'

Isabella shrugged. 'Still doesn't mean it belongs to your friend. And please, it's Isabella.'

Hawkes smiled gratefully at her. 'You're a bit of an optimist, aren't you?'

'Damn straight.'

Hawkes joined her laughter until it was brought abruptly to an end by his pager beeping at him. 'That's Mac. Come on.'

--

Taylor sat on the floor of the elevator staring resolutely at her knees as she rubbed at her temples.

Flack was in the far corner staring up at the lighting in the ceiling.

Neither of them had spoken for the best part of an hour.

'What's taking them so long?' Taylor grumbled.

'Tay, it's only been thirty minutes,' Flack sighed patiently.

Taylor shut her eyes, tapping her knee with her hand. 'Dean was possessed with the spirit of my dead ex boyfriend,' she blurted out.

Flack stared at her, unblinking, but said nothing.

'I bumped into him, Craig. He wanted to meet for dinner to catch up. Except he seemed more intent on getting back together with me. I told him I wasn't interested and left. Then he and Dean got into a fight and Craig ended up dead and possessing Dean and he came after me and that's what you saw.'

'And at the motel?'

Taylor opened her eyes, finding Flack staring at her. 'That was Sam's suggestion. We needed to get Dean in a Devil's Trap.'

'A what?'

--

'I think I've got it this time!' the maintenance guy cried excitedly.

'I hope so, Scott, because this is stupid.'

'You're telling me,' Scott muttered under his breath. 'Fuses should not be shorting like this.'

'Are you sure this isn't dangerous?' Maddy asked Aiden.

Aiden shrugged, sticking her hand through the panel Scott was fixing, causing it to spark again – all of his effort to fix the 'problem' erased in seconds. 'If they start throwing punches, I'll let him fix it.'

Maddy frowned. 'I was referring to the fact they're hovering between the twentieth and twenty first floors. You know – free falling… big squishy mess.'

'Ah, it'll be fine.' She froze, frowning. 'Oh crap.'

'What?' Maddy demanded.

'What the hell?' Scott demanded. 'Mike, they've lost the AC.'

Maddy looked over at Aiden. 'When Taylor finds out, she's gonna murder you.'

'You mean, _if._'

'_If?_' Maddy repeated. 'If is good.'

--

'Where's Lindsay?' Mac asked.

Stella looked around the room, her eyes falling on to the two new women before sweeping back to Mac. 'Not a clue,' she shrugged as Lindsay came bursting through the door.

'Sorry, she apologized. 'The elevator is out of order,' she added breathlessly as she sunk into a spare seat.

Mac nodded. 'This is Detective Mendes,' he said, introducing the blonde. 'She's a diver with the Scuba Team of the Harbor Unit. Isabella will be joining us on this case.'

The other woman, the red head, cleared her throat.

'And this is Supervisory Special Agent Reid with the Dangerous Organizations Squad of the FBI.'

'Feds?' Stella asked suspiciously, eyeing up the short woman.

'Your lab has been compromised,' the SSA told her with a crisp Texan accent.

'I beg your pardon?' Stella asked her disbelievingly.

'I have a UC within the Tanglewood organization. He has reported back to me that the murder of your Medical Assistant, Louis Messer was an initiation rite performed by Taylor Turner.'

'Are you high?' Danny asked her from the doorway.

'Are you?' Cory retorted angrily.

'Danny, you are supposed to be at home,' Mac snapped.

'I heard there might be news,' Danny shrugged.

'Danny, go _home_,' Mac told him firmly. 'Now.'

'No,' Danny told him, equally as firmly. 'I need to be here, Mac. I can't just sit around doing nothing.'

Mac pursed his lips, staring at the younger man who looked close to breaking point. 'If you take one step into a lab, lay one finger on any piece of evidence relevant to this case, suspension is the best you can hope for.'

Danny nodded and slipped into the spare seat by Lindsay.

Cory gave him another disapproving stare before continuing, mentally clocking the little exchange. 'Tanglewood has been on the FBI's radar for years. We know that they have been the main supplier of cocaine to the northeast and that has continued even with Sonny Sassone in prison.'

'And how does this relate to Louie?' Danny asked impatiently.

'According to my UC, ever since your brother fingered him for the murder of Bobby Manning, Tanglewood has been watching Louie, and you.'

'So they killed him?' Danny asked, his hands curling into tight fists.

Cory shook her head. 'According to my agent, Louie's murder was Miss Turner's gang initiation.'

'I knew that feds talk crap, but your mouth-'

'Danny!' Stella snapped reprimandingly at him.

'Excuse me, detective, but your brother is dead, and the prime suspect seems to have a free reign of this lab,' Cory retorted, her tone calm yet icy.

There was a knock at the door and all eyes switched to the DNA and trace experts.

'We have results,' Adam told the room nervously.

'What is it?' Mac asked.

'We've confirmed the trace on the bullet.'

'And?'

Kendall sighed and handed the document over. 'It's a match to Louie.'

'This is the bullet that's a match to Turner's gun?' Cory asked, looking over her notes.

'Yeah,' Hawkes responded, looking at Mac as he spoke.

'And why hasn't she been pulled in for questioning yet?' Cory asked, as she too looked at Mac. 'I want an officer picking her up and have her in the interview room within the hour.'

'That might be a little harder than you think,' Lindsay told her.

'And why might that be?' Cory sighed.

Lindsay shrugged. 'You know that elevator that made me late? Well, it sounds like Taylor's stuck in it.'

--

Taylor glanced up at the two arrivals in the elevator and slowly shook her head. 'I can't do this,' she whispered.

Flack looked up and spotted Maddy, who he gave a nod in greeting. 'Who has she got with her this time?'

'Louie,' Taylor muttered, shutting her eyes.

'I thought it was you.'

'Please go away,' she whimpered. As the tears prickled at the corner of her eyes, Flack reached over and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze.

'Maddy?'

Maddy looked over at the detective and cocked her head.

'Not now. We're stuck in an elevator. It's not like we can do anything.'

Maddy stared at him, before staring at her friend. 'He needs your help, Tay.'

Taylor's head snapped up. 'To what? Hammer the nails into the coffin lid, because I thought I had already done that?'

'Taylor,' Maddy started.

'I _can't do this_,' Taylor told her. 'I can't.'

Maddy sighed. 'We'll be back, you know.' She and Louie disappeared, the temperature in the small space returning to its raised setting.

'I can't do this,' Taylor repeated.

'They've gone, Tay,' Flack told her, assuming that as he could no longer see Maddy, Louie had also disappeared.

'I can't do this,' Taylor repeated, this time in a sob.

Flack quickly scooted over. 'Do what?'

'This,' Taylor told him. 'Us, the ghosts, the nightmares, looking after a child, the constant death.'

Flack sighed. 'Taylor, you don't have to do it alone.'

Taylor looked at him. 'What choice do I have now?' she asked him, her tone mournful, rather than bitter.

'I'm here,' he told her.

'But you're not.'

Flack took a deep breath. 'Taylor, I've always been there, trying to get you to open up to me. I'm still here. And yes, I may have overreacted slightly, but you _need _to talk to me.'

Taylor turned her head away, her gaze settling on the floor in the opposite corner. 'I can't,' she whispered.

'Why not?' he pleaded.

'Don, I see dead people,' she explained. 'I see them all the time. They interrupt me when I'm doing simple things like brushing my teeth, or taking Cordelia to the park. I don't _like_ seeing dead people, Don.'

'Taylor,' Flack muttered softly. 'You're human – I'd be worried if you did.'

'No, Don. You never talk about cases at home, describe the things you've seen, so why should I?'

'Taylor,' Flack started again.

'No, let me finish,' she told him. 'I am surrounded by death. My friends keep dying and I can't stop it. And then they keep haunting me, reminding me I couldn't do anything; that I'm the reason they're dead.'

'Alright, stop it now,' Flack told her firmly. 'It is not your fault that anyone is dead.'

'Maddy,' Taylor started.

'Maddy fell in love with an abusive jerk. You didn't kill her.'

'And Aiden-'

'Aiden died how she lived – protecting people. It's not like you walked up to Pratt and told him to follow you, is it?'

'No, but-'

'Taylor, there are no buts. Hell, I bet Aiden _and_ Maddy have both told you this.'

Taylor looked up at him and sniffed. 'I killed Louie.'

'That's enough now,' Flack informed her. 'As soon as we get out of here, we're going home, you're going to have a hot bath, take some sleeping tablets if you have to, and then you're going to get some rest.'

'We?' Taylor asked him, her eyes full of hope.

Flack nodded. 'We,' he repeated. 'But there's a catch.'

'What?'

Flack took a deep breath. 'If you really can't talk to me, that's fine. But I _need_ you to talk to _someone_.'

Taylor's forehead crinkled up in confusion. 'You mean a shrink?'

'I think they prefer the term, "therapist", but yes. The department has an excellent one.'

Taylor frowned. 'I'm not seeing a department shrink.'

Flack shrugged. 'Fine. But I need you to talk to someone.'

Taylor sighed, nodding in defeat. 'Fine,' she responded in the same tone Flack had used. 'But if I get locked up, it's your fault.'

'Taylor, they're not going to lock you – the whole point of a therapist is to have someone completely nonjudgmental chat with you and see if you can make sense of what's going off in your life.'

Taylor gave him a small smile. 'I love you, but you had better be prepared to visit me in Bellevue.'

Flack laughed. 'Deal.'

Taylor glared at him. 'So I will get locked up?!'

'Taylor Nicole Turner, will you just shut up already?' Flack exclaimed.

'And I thought that was the problem,' Taylor shrugged.

* * *

_Axellia's note: Yes, I may have stolen a quote from a Disney film… so sue me. Actually, don't! I'm poor. You won't get much other than a bald rabbit!_

_Axellia's note 2: The voting is officially open for the CSI:NY FF Awards. Either search in the forums (it's the top one in NY) or have a gander at The Corrupter's profile where there's a link in there two. Like I've said, there are lots of categories, and lots of really good stories up for voting - so go have fun... and don't forget to vote for me!! (:D)_

What The Eyes Can't See


	185. I have lost the will to live, Simply

_demolished-soul - Trust me when I say, I want this over with soon, too. I changed things around and got lost._

_sparkyCSI - thank goodness for that - you know how much this has been paining me! I just see her as being so focus, as as she's technically not met these people (in this story, anyways,)she technically holds noties with them_

_meadow567 - I robbed something off _Hercules_ - the "you mean, if" bit. But sorry I've made you wait!_

_Madison Bellows - Is it wrong that I'm feeling for the two of them? I think I may have overloaded Tay, actually! And in a way, I can't wait to see where I'm going with it, either! lol_

_princessg - it was one from _Hercules_ - not classic Disney, I know, but I love that film! I like your thinking - about Sonny! We are going to see the Cory we all know and love soon, though! And I think I've seen both since! I tell ya - going on a strike may have done wonders for these writers. I can't wait for the finale!!_

_EvaFlack001 - Signing up is a brilliant thing to do, and don't worry about it, I'm sure you're better than you think - I can promise you now, the first stuff I put up was a big pile of pants, but you just keep posting, and chliched as it sounds, you get better! Lol, it seems like we do, but we love each other's characters!_

_brttmclv - Glad you liked - it's has been hard for me to write of late, so I hope you keep thinking the same! They are going to be sorted out soon - Tay and Flack, I mean._

_RK9 - Bobby Manning, assuming I can remember my episodes well, was the guy in the RSRD eppy, and SSA Reid is sparky's creation. I've watched Criminal Minds - brilliant show - but not the other._

_Alana Xavier1 - This really wasn't how I intended to be, it's just how I turned out. And Cory is a lot nicer in the other stories, but I'm "trying" to show her focused side - she will be the Cory we all love in the end._

_And big thanks to sparky who's been beta-ing, and giving me some much needed support (and a map) whilst I've been a little lost!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 184: I have lost the will to live, Simply nothing more to give, There is nothing more for me**

'You know, you can let them fix the elevator now,' Maddy pointed out.

Aiden turned, biting her lip.

'You really broke it, didn't you?' Maddy exclaimed.

Aiden nodded, looking sheepish. 'I may have.'

Maddy burst out into a cackle of laughter.

'That's not helping, Mads!' Aiden exclaimed.

'What do you want me to do?' Maddy asked her between the laughter.

'You could show _some _support,' Aiden pouted.

'I thought it was you.'

Maddy sighed and turned to Louie. 'Louie, Aiden; Aiden, Louie. We've been over this. They don't look alike, and one is dead.'

'Maddy, that's not the way to talk to him,' Aiden sighed.

Maddy rolled her eyes. 'Louie, I'm sorry you're dead, but Aiden can't help you.'

Aiden placed a hand on her hip and arched an eyebrow.

'At least I'm not calling him Casper,' Maddy whined.

'_Miss Turner?_'

Taylor looked up at the sound of a female Texan's voice flood the elevator. 'Yeah?' she responded, shooting Flack a puzzled look as she hit the button to reply.

'_My name is SSA Reid, with the FBI_.'

'Good for you?'

'_Miss Turner, I'd like to ask you a few questions_.'

Taylor frowned. 'The FBI?'

'_Yes, ma'am,_' the woman responded politely. '_I'm taking over the investigation of the murder of Louie Messer._'

Taylor shot Flack another look. 'Why is the FBI involved in this?'

There was a pause. '_Miss Turner, I would appreciate it if you would return to the lab and wait in reception as soon as this elevator is fixed.'_

'Sure,' Taylor agreed, still feeling puzzled. She released the button and turned to Flack. 'Why does the FBI want to see me?'

Flack rolled his eyes. 'Has anyone ever pointed out to you just how stubborn you are? It's probably because they found Louie in your car – not because she thinks you killed him.'

Taylor nodded. 'I guess.'

--

'And how long is it going to take to fix?' Cory asked the maintenance guy.

Scott shrugged. 'There's a part being couriered in from Jersey. An hour tops.' He looked at his watch and frowned. 'Maybe two.'

Cory sighed in exasperation and headed to an office she had been leant by Mac, so that she could study the evidence that had been collected in the case so far.

Lindsay turned to Stella as they watched her leave. 'Feds?'

Stella rolled her eyes. 'I'm saying nothing.'

Lindsay sighed. 'Stell, can I ask a question?'

Stella nodded. 'Of course, kiddo.'

'It's, um,' she bit her lip. 'It's Danny.'

Stella nodded gently. 'Go sit with him. If he needs distracting, do so. If he needs the silence, just be there for him.'

Lindsay flashed her a grateful smile and headed off in the direction of the break room.

--

In the elevator, Taylor was leaning against Flack's shoulder, the latter of whom had his arm wrapped around her, gently playing with her hair. 'Maybe we need a vacation,' he muttered.

Taylor shook her head. 'What good will that do? We're only going to be facing ghosts or demons or _vampires_,' she sighed.

'Oh my,' Flack muttered.

'Huh?' Taylor asked, looking up.

Flack gave her a small smile. 'Old joke. Never mind.' He was about to continue when he felt Taylor's body go rigid beside him. He looked up, spotting Maddy. 'Oh, Maddy,' he sighed. He gave Taylor a squeeze. 'Come on, Tay. We can do this together.'

Taylor looked up, a truly terrified expression on her face. 'No,' she whispered.

Flack smiled. 'What is he telling you?'

'That he thought it was me,' she told him, her voice still a whisper.

'Okay, and what cryptic clue is he showing you?'

Taylor raised her eyes to look at the dead man. 'He was gone for weeks and he turns up now?'

'Taylor,' he pressed, gently.

'This.' She reached into her top and pulled out a chain. Hanging on the end of it was the ruby engagement ring.

Flack sighed and pulled his arm from behind her, before undoing the chain and sliding the ring off. 'We'll start by you putting this back on, and then we'll call Stella.' He looked up at Maddy. 'And in the meantime, you can take Louie and go get him a cup of coffee,' he frowned. 'Or whatever you dead people do?'

--

Lindsay slipped into the break room, shutting the door softly behind her. 'Danny,' she called softly.

Danny looked over from the window he was staring absent-mindedly out of, and over at Lindsay.

Lindsay sighed and walked over to him. 'Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee or something?'

'Nah, I'm alright,' Danny told her, his gaze fixed on something outside.

'Are you sure?' Lindsay asked. 'Maybe something warm in you would be good for you?'

Danny whirled around. 'Lindsay, do I _look_ like I really want to be going for a coffee right now?' he snapped at her before storming out of the room.

Lindsay bit her lip, watching him leave.

--

'Hi'ya Flack,' Stella greeted the detective as she read his name on the caller ID. 'How are you doing in there?'

'_Can't say some food wouldn't go amiss about now,'_ he told her, earning a chuckle off Stella. '_But I'm not calling you to get me some, although if you could manage that there would be much love sent in your direction.'_

Stella laughed again. 'I'm not sure I can, but we'll see. What's up then?'

'_We're getting visits from Louie.'_

Stella frowned. 'You can see them?'

Flack sighed. '_I can see Maddy. Tay can see Louie.'_

Stella's frown deepened. 'And why isn't Taylor telling me this? Is she alright?'

Flack glanced down at the woman in his arms and shook his head. '_Not really. I think it's going to be you and me.'_

'But you can't see Louie,' Stella pointed out.

'_Oh, I realize that,' _he sighed. '_So this could prove to be interesting.'_

'Alright,' said Stella, slowly. 'So what do we have?'

'_Well, apparently, he's showing Taylor her engagement ring.'_

'And how does that help us?'

'_Not a clue,'_ Flack sighed.

'Well where did you get it?'

'_Little place upstate – Mt. Hope.'_

'What on earth were you doing up there?' Stella asked him curiously.

'_Pig Farm,' _he told her. _'Me and Cordy headed into the town to grab something to eat for the journey home and I spotted it in the window.'_

Stella sighed. 'Well, I'm not sure if Mt. Hope is the key to this, and I'm also pretty certain this fed isn't going to let us go investigate that.'

'_Yeah, and _why_ is there an FBI agent in the lab?'_

'Something about an undercover agent who thinks Taylor killed Louie as some initiation thing. Oh, and she thinks the lab is compromised.'

'_What?' _Flack asked in disbelief.

Stella shook her head, turning to stare out into the lab. 'Yeah, well we don't believe it. Although she might have a small point about the lab being compromised.'

'_I beg your pardon?'_

'Not like that, Don,' Stella responded hurriedly. 'But we do let her wander around here and the crime scenes.'

'_She has an ID badge,´ _Flack pointed out, sounding slightly outraged.

'Yeah, and it says "consultant". What consultant needs to be at crime scenes?'

'That is an excellent point.'

Stella whirled around. 'Don, I gotta go,' she told him, quickly hanging up and cutting him off. 'Agent Reid.'

'I came to see where we are with the evidence? Have we come any closer to tracking Louie?'

Stella shook her head. 'The tracker came back as a positive to Louie, but I'm still waiting on Adam to get back to me on where Louie's been.'

'Maybe we should go see Adam?' Cory suggested.

Stella pursed her lips and nodded, making to leave.

'Detective,' Cory called after her. Stella stopped and turned. 'Look, I know you aren't happy with me taking over the lab like this, but I have worked for a while with my UC and every piece of information he has given me has come through.'

Stella stared at her. 'Maybe, but we can't be right all of the time.'

'I could say the same back to you.'

'Taylor and Louie were friends.'

'It's gang warfare – friends don't cut it when there's a power struggle. I've seen it too many times – friends turning on supposed friends,' Cory reasoned.

'Yes, but you don't know those two. Louie quit Tanglewood – he gave Sonny up.'

Cory shrugged. 'And what's to say that there wasn't another motive to that move.' Cory sighed. 'Look, I really hope that my UC _is _wrong, because if nothing else, if he is right, you are going to have a lot of cases overturned. And hasn't this precinct already had to suffer through that?'

Stella was about to retort when her pager went off. 'Adam has something.'

--

Danny was lost. Not physically, but emotionally. So lost that he didn't even realize it. Somehow, with his wandering, he had ended up on the roof and was leaning against the side, staring down at the ant sized people all those stories below him.

Behind him, the door banged open. 'Oh?' came Kendall's startled voice. 'Messer?' Hesitantly, she headed over to him, pulling her collar up to stop the rain which was lashing against her on the roof. 'Danny?' she asked carefully as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

Danny jumped at the warmth of her hand and whirled around. 'Kendall?'

'Danny, it's raining so hard the cats and dogs gave up and went home,' Kendall pointed out. 'You're drenched, and you're shivering.'

Danny shrugged.

Kendall looked up at the water which seemed to be gushing down on them like they were stood under a running faucet and shrugged. 'Ah, what the hell? I could do with a shower. You could too,' she told him, pulling her jacket off and flinging it to one side.

Danny stared at her as she seemed to slowly come into focus. 'Kendall, what are you doing?' he asked her as he watched her raise her arms to the black heavens and begin spinning around.

Kendall stopped, her soaking wet ponytail whipping around and catching her across the cheek where it remained stuck because of the water. 'Enjoying the rain.'

'But it's November,' Danny cried incredulously.

'What? You think you're the only one impervious to the cold. Didn't you know that's one of my superpowers?'

Danny stared at her as though she had lost her mind. '_Superpower_?'

'Yup,' Kendall nodded. 'And I can teleport too. Watch.'

Danny blinked. 'You're crazy, you know that?'

Kendall's face showed one of mock horror, 'You mean you missed that?' she asked somewhat melodramatically.

Danny's mouth slowly made the shape of a smile. 'I think I did.' The smile grew. 'You got any other powers?'

'Oh, x-ray vision,' she told him, giving him an evil grin and an eyebrow wiggle.

Danny looked down at himself before looking up and arching an eyebrow at her. 'Kendall Novak, are you checking me out?'

'Daniel Messer, my top happens to have gone just as "wet t-shirt competition" as yours. The only difference is yours is white and mine is black.'

Danny sighed. 'I don't suppose you have the power to time travel, do you?'

Kendall shook her head. 'No, sorry,' she told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. 'But I can predict the future.'

Danny turned back to face her, looking at her expectantly.

'It's gonna hurt, and it's gonna hurt for a while. But that pain will dull, and the guilt will slowly edge away, and in the end you'll have your memories. And it may take a while, but it will get better.'

Danny stared thoughtfully at her. 'The future, huh? Is that it or have you got any other power?'

Kendall grinned. 'Just one. And I save the best until last.'

The expectant stare returned.

'Oh I can create the best cup of hot chocolate, including marshmallows, along with warm fluffy towels and maybe even a spare set of clothes – and I can do it all from the lab.'

Danny looked sheepishly at the floor. 'You're freezing, aren't you?'

'I can't feel my fingers,' Kendall admitted with a laugh as she pulled Danny towards the door.

* * *

_I am so sorry to have taken so long to update - my muse has completely abandoned me and I'm flying solo! (That and I haven't stopped working again!) _

_On the other hand, I do feel like I've lost the plot, slightly, so please bear with me whilst I get back on track, and in the meantime, thank you so much for continuing to read!!_

**_And before I forget, have you voted in the FF Awards yet? There's only three days left!_**


	186. With all I’ve lost, my heart it’s break

_EvaFlack001 - No, it's not been abandoned! My muse and I fell out, and then work got in the way! Lindsay is staying. I like Lindsay!! And you hang onto that hat! lol - I have the work thing planned out - I'm off on my vacation in two weeks (and you have no idea how happy and excited I am about that one!!)_

_Madison Bellows - Kendall has barely been in the show, which is a shame, although I've realised I see her as a female version of Greg (:s). I can have a break soon (:D)_

_princessg - lol, I'm currently in a sappy mood, which will probably show in about four chapters time! I like Cory better when she's nice so she's not going to stay like this for long! I think I'm in denial over the finale - it hasn't sunk in that there won't be any more episodes until september_

_demolished-soul - i sat and thought about that for a while. I would have sent Flack, but he was kinda stuck, and the others just didn't feel right._

_sparkyCSI - I have no idea where my head's been recently, but I enjoyed writing that. I think I needed something lighthearted. You're right - and I loved the addition!_

_meadow567 - sorry - I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long!_

_Aphina - you're talking to the queen of busy! lol (I know I have to play catch up again!) Tay is definately at breaking point, I think I'm too mean!_

_Forest Angel - Thank you for that! I have certainly felt lost for the next couple of chapters, but I think it's coming back to me. It's just finding the time now_

_Big thanks to sparky for giving me some confidence and a pep talk, as well as being a fab beta!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 185: With all I've lost, my heart it's breaking**

Adam was bopping around, his iPod plugged in and music playing loudly in his ears. It was the best way to work – life needed a soundtrack, and work most certainly did. His task was one suited for the computer geek he was: checking to see if the locations Louie's tracker had given him happened to cross with any traffic cameras in the area. Thus far, he was drawing a blank.

And then he spotted the car on a camera on the Manhattan entrance to the Williamsburg Bridge. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he extracted four relevant stills and threw each one of them up onto one of the various plasma screens dotted around the room.

Pulling his ear phones out, he set to paging Stella.

It didn't take long for the detective to arrive.

'What have you got, Adam?'

Adam whirled around, jumping at the sound of Stella's voice. 'I, uh,' he faltered at seeing the FBI agent behind her staring curiously at the images on the wall.

'What have you got, Adam?' Stella asked her, this time in a softer tone.

Adam swallowed, sent Cory one last look, and then focused on Stella. 'I cross referenced the last locations of Louie on his tracking device with the traffic cameras in the city. I found one on the entryway to Williamsburg Bridge – there's four decent pictures,' he told her, indicating to the screens.

'Well, that's Louie,' Cory mused aloud.

Stella walked over to one of them and frowned. 'Is this it?' she asked Adam.

'That's the best I can do,' Adam told her regretfully, even though the image was quite clear.

Stella cocked her head. 'So the last images we have of Louie, so far, are these, and the person driving Taylor's car happens to be obscured by the sun visor.'

'At night time? Someone didn't want their face to be seen,' Cory stated dryly.

--

Mac slammed down the phone with a grunt. He'd just been telling Sinclair that a Federal Agent was not needed, nor appreciated, in his lab. He looked up at the sound of a hesitant knocking on his door. 'Detective Angell,' he greeted, waving her in.

'Mac, I've got a DB.'

'I think that someone else should take that, Jess. I'm up to my ears in this thing with Louie.'

Angell shook her head softly. 'Mac, I think you need to come to this crime scene.'

Mac stared at her. 'I'll send Danny. I think he needs distracting.'

Angell shook her head again. 'No, I think _you_ need to come to this one. _Not _Danny.'

Mac frowned. 'Alright.'

--

'I bought a fish tank,' Taylor muttered, causing Flack to look down.

'What?'

'It's in the living room. And it's big. It might have been a better idea to have waited until it was decorated.'

Flack smiled. 'And what kind of fish are in it?'

'None,' Taylor responded as though he had asked a daft question.

'Then why have you bought a fish tank?' Flack asked.

Taylor shrugged. 'For fish.'

'Which you haven't bought,' Flack stated.

'I wanted Cordelia to choose them,' Taylor admitted. 'I was acclimatizing the tank. And then they found the car. And Louie.' Her eyes began to water.

Flack shut his eyes as he wrapped both arms around her. 'Tay, I know you've not been sleeping for a while, but have you had any sleep recently?'

Taylor shook her head.

'Look, get some sleep. We're not going anywhere until this lift is fixed. _I'm _not going anywhere.'

Taylor looked up at him. 'Promise?' she asked him, her voice sounding more like that of a lost child.

'Promise,' he told her firmly.

--

Mac looked down at the body in front of him, a grim look on his face.

'Sonny Sassone?' Hawkes asked, rhetorically. 'Where does this leave us?'

Angell, who was doing an excellent job of ignoring all the hooting and leers from the surrounding cells, sighed. 'His cellmate confessed and I'm willing to stake it's a pretty open and shut case, but I figured that you should know.'

Mac turned to the two detectives. 'Sheldon, I want you to process this cell. I'm sure Angell is right, but I want it going over with a fine tooth comb. Angell, I want his cell mate in interrogation.'

Angell nodded. 'He's already waiting for you.'

--

Stella looked over at the picture Adam had enlarged. 'She's not wearing her engagement ring,' she realized.

Cory looked where Stella was pointing and shrugged. 'Taking a ring off isn't exactly the hardest thing to do.'

Adam cocked his head. 'Um, she looks to short.'

Stella's eyes widened. 'Can we work out how tall the person in the car is?'

Adam nodded, flying into his chair. 'Give me a minute,' he told her as his fingers flew over the keyboard, dragging up various pictures, including several from magazines. 'The person in the car is approximately five feet, six inches.'

'There you go,' Stella smiled in relief. 'Taylor is four inches taller than that.'

Cory inhaled sharply. 'I still want to talk to her. I'm going to see how that elevator's coming along.'

--

Flack looked up at Maddy who was standing in the opposite corner of the elevator. 'Okay, you're gonna have to go through me, because I am not about to wake her up and have her upset all over again.'

Maddy mouthed something at him with a shrug and disappeared. She reappeared a while later, this time with Louie.

Flack felt his stomach roll as he stared at Louie and half of his missing head, and he found himself pulling Taylor closer to him as he realized just what she had been coping with for the past year and a half. 'She sees this?'

Maddy nodded. 'Yup.'

Flack stared at her in amazement. 'I can hear you.'

'In full surround sound,' Maddy informed him with a half attempt to grin.

'And what does that mean?' Flack asked cautiously.

'I thought it was her,' Louie informed him.

Flack looked over at him and frowned. 'Oh.'

'But as soon as I got in the car, I realized it wasn't.'

Flack's frown evolved into a look of confusion. 'You're a little vocal, aren't you?'

'This is a onetime deal,' Maddy explained. 'The big guys are a little worried about her.'

'I think there might be a good reason for that,' Flack snapped at her.

Maddy's hands shot up in front of her. 'Hey, don't shoot the messenger. It won't do much good – I'm already dead.'

'Ah, so this is going to be accompanied by inappropriate jokes?' Flack asked her.

Maddy shrugged. 'Can't help it. Death killed my sense of humor.'

Flack rolled his eyes.

'So, how about we let me move on?' Louie asked them.

Flack looked back over to him. 'This is too weird.'

'You're telling _me_ that?' Louie asked. 'I'm the one that's dead and missing half my head.'

'Okay, so how does this work?' Flack asked Maddy.

'Well, he can't tell you who did or why.'

'So basically, I get snarky comments and that's about it?' Flack muttered. 'Alright, so I'm gonna ask questions and you answer what you can?'

Louie nodded and settled down opposite.

'Oh, and we're not going to wake Taylor up in the process, agreed?'

Both Maddy and Louie nodded.

'Okay, so, Louie, what's the deal with the engagement ring.'

'No comment.'

'You need a lawyer?' Flack asked dryly.

'He's got me,' Maddy grinned.

'Of all the dead lawyers you get Maddy instead of Johnnie Cochran? Sucks to be you.'

Maddy glared at him, hands on her hips. 'Not funny.'

Flack shook his head. 'Never mind. Alright, when did you die?'

'November first.'

'And how did you end up in the car?''

Louie looked at Maddy, who looked over at Flack. 'My client isn't gonna answer that.'

'You know what?' Flack asked, 'How about you tell me everything you can?'

Louie again looked at Maddy, who this time, nodded.

'I went to see Sassone. And as I was getting out of the prison, waiting for the taxi, Taylor's car pulled up and I got in.'

'That's helpful,' Flack muttered. 'Do you know who killed you?'

'Yeah.'

Flack shook his head. 'I mean, before you were killed. Have you and your killer crossed paths before?'

Louie again glanced at Maddy who nodded. 'Yes,' he told Flack.

'Okay, is the killer someone you met inside?'

Louie glanced at Maddy, who again nodded. 'No.'

'Is this killer someone from your past? The Tanglewood days?'

Maddy frowned. 'Are we playing twenty questions?'

'If it gets me answers, I'd play Monopoly,' Flack shrugged.

'Well, he's not answering that,' Maddy shrugged.

Flack nodded. 'Alright, I'm going to check in with Stell, and then we're going to finish this conversation off.' He waited until the two ghosts had disappeared and maneuvered to pull out his phone, calling Stella. She answered instantly.

Quickly, he filled her in. 'He said he was killed on the first,' he finished. 'And Taylor has an alibi for that because we were looking after Cordelia and Ruben.'

'_Adam pulled some pictures of Louie in Taylor's car. It looks like he was with someone who looks like her.'_

Flack glanced down at the woman who was frowning in her sleep. 'I think this might have something to do with Tanglewood, but Louie was being evasive.'

'_Louie?'_

Flack frowned. 'I kinda told Maddy I was dealing with it. Taylor's not taking it so well.'

'_Oh_,' Stella responded, slightly surprised. '_We worked out what he was saying about the engagement ring_,' she explained. '_She wasn't wearing it in the pictures_.'

'But the argument would be she could have easily taken it off.'

Stella nodded, then realizing he couldn't see her, '_Yeah, which is why we went on to work out the height of the driver_.'

Flack sighed. 'Look, I know Mac won't like it, but I think maybe we should get Danny on this – get him to look at photographs of Tanglewood and see if he can shed some light.'

'I_ think that might not be so bad an idea_,' Stella agreed.

--

Isabella sighed inwardly as she surveyed the murky waters in front of her. She was supposed to be helping on the Messer Murder but both Raymond and Phee had been called out to two other incidents and that left her.

Reports had come in of a body spotted around the shipping yard, but by the time the harbor patrol had arrived there was nothing – she was doing an underwater sweep whilst they took the above water approach. Finally, the water swirled the dirt away, revealing what was clearly a body. Sadly, Isabella pulled out her underwater camera and took a few pictures before pulling the body loose.

--

'I don't believe we've had the pleasure,' Sid greeted the damp detective.

Isabella smiled and offered her hand. 'I'm not long transferred from Ft. Lauderdale,' she explained.

'And you're with harbor patrol?'

Isabella nodded. 'I am indeed.'

'I once dated a woman who was a diver. She had this amazing ability with her tongue-'

'Sid, that's over-sharing,' Hawkes called as he wheeled a body in through the door.

Sid looked at him, over the top of his glasses and pursed his lips. 'So this is the infamous Sassone?'

Hawkes nodded. 'Yup. Looks like he bled out; sharpened toothbrush to the jugular.'

Involuntarily, Isabella rubbed at her throat. 'Nice,' she sighed.

'Well, he's going to have to wait, I'm afraid. Miss Mendes here has beaten you to it,' he told him.

'I don't think Mac will,' Hawkes trailed off as Sid pulled back the sheet covering Isabella's dead body. 'That looks like…'

Sid looked down and frowned. 'I guess it does.'

* * *

_Thanks for sticking with me on this one, guys! I'm getting back, I promise!_


	187. All this time we finally know each other

_RK9 - I hear ya - you don't have to apologise. I agree, and I also know I'm a little bit cruel...!_

_demolished-soul - She does need a break - I do pile a lot on her. And I have no idea where the Flack bit comes from, but I think it could be fun!_

_sparkyCSI - I didn't even think of it as a cliff hanger! That's what working too much does for ya! I had the earliest night ever - it was 11pm (and that's really early for me) so I've been up for a couple of hours - I think you'll be getting a chapter or two later!_

_meadow567 - lol, I think you'd be right! One day, I'm going to write something that you won't be expecting - that's going to be my new mission!_

_laplandgurl - Isabella looks more like Maddy (I have a twisted sense of humor, which will become slightly more apparent!) but yes, she will be around for a while! And thank you - I certainly wasn't ecpecting those results!!_

_brttmclv - He is certainly going to be a lot more understanding! I'm sorry about the ending - I actually didn't even think about it when I did it! I hope your heart recovered (:P)_

_princessg - I must admit, there was a smile on my face when I was writing that - it was quite satisfying!_

_Aphina - The assigment is done and handed in - I have my monday evenings back. Well, I say I do, but I'm sure William Hell will put a halt on that one. I don't care. I'm writing a letter of resignation and I'm determined to hand it in by the end of the summer!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 186: All this time we finally know each other, Now that I've been leaning on your shoulder **

'What are you doing?' Cory demanded, stepping into the evidence lab.

Danny looked up at her. 'Looking over the evidence,' he informed her, as though daring her to object.

She did. 'You can't do that, you're off the case,' Cory snapped.

'And you shouldn't be on it either,' Danny retorted. 'So why don't you take your federal ass back to your own place?'

Cory slammed her hands on the table, the effort making several things move, including Danny's pen to the floor. 'That is _it_!' she yelled. 'I have had it up to here,' she raised a hand above her head, 'with the members of this team defying me left, right and center. 'I am trying to do my job! I am sorry that your brother was killed, I really am, but I am trying to find his killer and with every lead that I get, there's someone trying to stop me, or breaking the rules.'

'You're sorry my brother is _dead_?' Danny repeated, stepping around to her side of the table. 'You're _sorry_? He was shot, bundled into the trunk of a car and then allowed to _drown_!' he shouted back at her, his voice breaking. 'You being _sorry_ is not helping us to find his killer.'

Cory shut her eyes and stepped back. 'You're right.'

Danny, about to resume yelling, stopped. 'Excuse me?'

'Being sorry isn't going to help,' Cory shrugged. 'Doing my job is.'

Danny deflated, sinking onto a stool.

'Am I interrupting something?' Lindsay asked carefully, entering the room.

'No,' Cory told her.

'We think we have a lead,' Lindsay informed them. 'It might be related to Tanglewood. Stella wants you to look through the files of all known members of the gang, and their associates.'

Cory pursed her lips. 'This detective has been taken off the case.'

Lindsay nodded. 'Yeah, but unless you can get your undercover agent in here, Danny is the best thing we have.'

'And yet, that doesn't fill me with reassurance,' Cory told her dryly.

'Well what do you suggest?' Lindsay snapped.

Cory arched an eyebrow at her. 'Now why would I tell you that when y'all are hell bent on doing the complete opposite?'

--

'Hey, Mac,' Hawkes called as he hurried to stop the senior detective from entering the interview room. 'I think we found Louie's killer.'

Mac stopped and stared intently at Hawkes. 'What do you mean?'

'I pulled a body out of the East River,' Isabella informed him.

'And we found the person driving the car wasn't Taylor because she's too tall – this body matches the height of the driver,' Stella said, handing over a folder which Mac skimmed through.

'Wait here,' Mac told them before entering the interview room.

--

'Why do I feel like this is some attempt to keep me busy?' Danny asked, a touch of bitterness in his tone.

Stella gave him a reassuring smile. 'Mendes found this body in the East River, just downstream from where we found Louie. We're waiting on prints and dental, but Hawkes did a FastScan on her.' Stella handed over the computer generated image. 'Do you know her?'

Danny stared thoughtfully at the photograph. 'She looks like Ruby Cove. But she's a Bullet, not Tanglewood.'

Cory looked over. 'Who are her accomplices?'

Danny nodded in the direction of Cory's laptop. 'Does your database cover the Brooklyn Bullets?'

Cory nodded. 'Tanglewood, Brooklyn Bullets, Irish Mob and the Døds Forbannelse.'

Danny pulled the laptop over and began flicking through the pictures and profiles.

--

Flack hung up the phone after listening to Stella fill him in on what had been happening. 'Maddy?' he questioned quietly.

Maddy appeared in her brilliant white suit, accompanied by Louie. 'What's up chico?'

Flack looked over at the dead male ghost and shuddered. 'Ruby Cove, Louie? That name mean anything?'

Louie nodded.

A light switched on in Flack's head. 'Ruby. It wasn't about Taylor's ring, was it?'

Slowly, Louie shook his head.

'So we're on the right track,' Flack muttered as the two ghosts disappeared.

Taylor shifted in her sleep before awakening with a low moan. 'We're still in here?' she groaned.

''Fraid so,' Flack muttered.

Taylor suddenly sat bolt upright. 'Louie?'

Flack leaned forward. 'I'm taking care of it,' he told her gently.

'Huh?'

'Don't worry about it: you just sit back and let me handle it.'

Taylor bit her lip, staring into his deep blue eyes. 'Why?' she asked him softly.

'Because I think it was unfair of Them to land this one on you.'

Taylor looked down into her lap, shaking her head softly. 'No: why me? Even if we ignore the ghosts, I have got to be one the most scattiest, dysfunctional people on the island. Don't you think I'm just too much like hard work?'

'Where is this coming from?' Flack asked, sadly.

'I'm a mess, Don,' Taylor told him, her voice full of emotion. 'And the only thing that's changing is the fact that I'm getting progressively worse, and yet you keep putting up with me.'

'Taylor, I don't "put up" with you, and I hope you know me better than that then to think I would? But that doesn't mean to say I don't worry about you – that's why I've been pushing you to talk to someone.'

'Alright, I'll go,' Taylor finally conceded with the actual intention of going to see someone. 'Maybe you're right.'

Flack leant over and kissed her forehead. 'You know I am.'

Taylor sighed and leaned back against him, feeling momentarily at ease. 'But what about Louie?' The panicked feeling was back in her chest.

'Taylor, I've told you; I'm taking care of this one,' Flack informed her, holding her tightly.

Taylor looked up at him. 'What did I do to deserve you?'

--

'This is a waste of time. I killed him. I was the only person locked in that cell with him. I killed him.'

Mac nodded. 'And the evidence agrees with that.'

Victor Daly leant forward. 'So what else do you need to know?'

Mac remained sitting upright. 'I'd like to know how a man inside for a tax evasion charge decides to kill his cellmate midway through his sentence, which, until now, hasn't had a single mark against him.'

Victor just shrugged at him.

'Or how 100,000 cash was deposited into his account two hours after Sonny Sassone was pronounced dead,' Mac added, producing a copy of Victor's bank statement.

'Look,' said Victor, in a desperate tone, 'just add the fifteen years to my sentence and get me back to my cell.'

'Fifteen years?' Mac repeated calmly. 'A payoff shows premeditation, Victor. You're looking at the death penalty.'

The color quickly drained from Victor's face. 'Death penalty?'

It took only thirty seconds for Victor to confess everything. Minutes after that, Mac was walking into the lab where the entire team, Cory and Isabella included, were busy fixing pictures to the wall.

'What did you find out?' Stella asked him.

Mac calmly walked over to the table and began searching through the piles of profiles that had yet to be checked.

'Mac?' Lindsay questioned.

'This is one of the guys we're looking for,' Mac told them, finally, pulling out a photograph mug shot and sticking it in the centre of the display that had been created.

'Reggie Portwood,' Danny said, recognizing him instantly. 'He's Sassone's equivalent in the Bullets.'

Mac nodded. 'And this is the other one,' he said, sticking up a second photograph.

'Felix Bohr,' Danny continued.

'That's not Felix. That's Antony Carlisle. That's my undercover agent,' Cory told them calmly.

Danny shook his head. 'That's Felix. Felix and Reggie's father was the number one of the Bullets until he died and Reggie took over. I remember Louie telling me that it wasn't until Papa Portwood died that Reggie realized he had a brother.'

The color was slowly draining from Cory's face. 'I ran the background check on him myself. He would have been checked before he joined the bureau too.'

'Well clearly, you missed some key information,' Stella told her.

'No,' Cory said defiantly, heading towards her laptop, before sitting down and beginning a search. 'You've got to be mistaken. Antony has been supplying me with key information to bringing down Tanglewood for weeks.'

'Can we not see the flaw in that one?' Lindsay muttered dryly. 'If he's a Bullet, he's going to want to bring down Tanglewood for his own benefit.'

'According to Victor, Sassone was aware that there was a snitch amongst his men, even from prison. Too many convenient coincidences,' Mac explained, whilst Cory refused to look up from her computer. 'Victor overheard several conversations between Sassone and a few other gang members who are also in Rikers. When the whole thing with Taylor failed, Sonny decided to focus his attention on a partnership with the Irish Mob before the Brooklyn Bullets got in there.'

'But this makes no sense,' Cory blurted out, her voice strained. 'Why would Antony be bothered about setting a journalist up?'

Stella shrugged. 'She's only just been cleared for a drugs possession charge. A murder charge would focus our attention on her – that maybe we had been wrong the first time. Which would allow for him to move in on Tanglewood without any resistance.'

'And when he realized that wasn't going to work, he had Sassone killed,' Mac finished.

Cory looked around the room before pulling out her phone. 'You're wrong about my agent,' she told them as she rose to her feet and headed for the door.

'Is it wrong that that felt good?' Lindsay asked.

'A little,' Stella muttered, 'but it _did_ feel good.'

'But why did he kill Louie?' Danny asked, his voice strained. 'And why did he try to stick Taylor up again? Surely, it would have made more sense to frame Sonny for Louie's…' he trailed off. 'It just seems like there's more to this.'

'I don't doubt that SSA Reid is going to get her agent in,' Mac said. 'Assuming he hasn't gone A.W.O.L.'

'I don't like this, Mac,' Danny told him.

'Me either,' Mac agreed, as Cory reentered the room, her face pale.

Cory looked around the room, keeping her head held high. 'Antony isn't responding to my calls, and he hasn't checked in all day.'

Mac turned to her. 'Maybe you should be more concerned about the integrity of your own team, before you worry about mine.'

'I will get to the bottom of this, Detective Taylor. I promise y'all that,' she told the room before walking out.

'Too good,' Lindsay muttered.

--

Cory walked into her loaned office, shock still radiating through her body. Sitting heavily in her chair, she pulled her laptop to her, wanting to prove that they were wrong about Antony, but in her heart, she knew they were right. She was the one that was responsible and she was furious at herself for it.

What was making her even angrier was that she had no clue how he had slipped past her. Despite what the crime lab thought, she was extremely thorough when she ran her background checks. _How the hell did I miss something that big? How?_

She opened up her file with the background check and reviewed it. Everything was legit. She had even traced back his family two generations to make sure none of them had ever been involved with Tanglewood or any other major gang in the city. He was clean.

Sighing as she took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes wearily, she mentally put together every action she had taken since she had gotten the call almost a year ago. The one call she couldn't turn down. Her mind drifted back, and logically she knew that she had made a rash decision in coming to New York: Running from her past.

Shaking her head, she tried to push the painful memories back whilst she thought of a good way to apologize to the crime lab. Slipping her glasses back on, she bent over to extract the long unopened pack of cigarettes from her briefcase before deciding to go to the roof, needing the air and the view of the sky to clear her mind.

--

Hours later than promised, the lift was fixed and Taylor walked out of the lift and turned to Flack. 'I'll be back,' she muttered. 'I just need some air.'

Flack looked at her, worried. 'Are you sure?'

Taylor nodded and headed for the stairs. As soon as the door banged closed behind her, she ran, up the stairs, pushing her legs to work, through the burning pain that was shooting up them and in her lungs until she slammed into the door for the roof where she stopped in the rain allowing it to pour freely over her.

Doubled over, she tried to fill her lungs with oxygen which seemed to be eluding her, and sank heavily to her knees, ignoring the new sensation of tearing flesh as she allowed her hands to grate over the asphalt on the roof just that bit too heavily.

'You look like you need one of these,' a voice with a southern accent announced.

Taylor hastily pulled herself to her feet and turned to face a shorter woman who was offering her a packet of Marlboros.

'I don't smoke,' she told her, her voice gravelly.

'I don't either.' The woman shrugged and pushed the packet back into her pocket before taking a drag from the cigarette she was holding. 'Personally, I think some whiskey would go perfectly with this,' she sighed.

'Bad day?' Taylor asked her, joining her under the small shelter on the roof.

The woman nodded. 'You could say that.'

'Tell me about it,' Taylor muttered, staring out across the rooftop over the graying skyline. 'One of my good friends was killed and some fed decided to blame me,' Taylor sighed. 'She might have been right in a way.' She leant back against the wall.

'That fed was just trying to do her job,' Cory muttered, busying herself with taking another drag.

Taylor nodded. 'I know. It just feels like she was right.'

'Why?' Cory asked her curiously.

Taylor sighed and allowed herself to sink down the wall to the floor. 'It doesn't matter,' she mumbled.

Cory dropped the cigarette to the floor and stubbed it out with her foot. 'I know this doesn't feel like much now, but that fed is sorry,' she told her as she disappeared inside the building.

A very short time later, the door opened and Flack poked his head around. 'Tay, are you alright?'

Taylor shrugged at him. 'I don't know.'

'Did that agent say something to you?' he asked angrily.

'What agent?' Taylor asked, wearily.

Flack exhaled softly, eyeing the journalist carefully. 'Can we get out of here now?'

* * *

**I just wanted to say a HUGE, HUGE thanks to everyone who voted for me - I logged on today and you've taken my breathe away -I am actually speechless, so seriously, thank you, from the bottom of my heart! If you're ever in Hull (maybe to watch our football team who just got into the Premiership (:D)) then the beverage is on me! Until then, you shall all have to suffice with the cyber stuff! THANK YOU!!**


	188. I'm gonna stop lookin' back and start mo

_Aphina - I've been struggling with writing Cory, as K will tell you, because I am so used to the Cory she is now, but it's been enjoyable at the same time._

_laplandgurl - Thank you I have a few more uses for Cory, so she'll be making some more appearances - sparky's permission given, that is! Tay does need a break, I'll give you that!_

_abbabba - Wow - thank you! (You certainly know how to make a girl's head swell! lol) Is it really the fic with the longest word count? Dear lord, it really is epic! I cringe sometimes when I read over this - I try so hard with Tay, and I know that she can be very mary-sueish, but I think it's something that most people struggle with. Thank you again!_

_RK9 - I look back and realise just how far. I was playing with it for ages and ages. Maybe I'll have Maddy go rogue! lol_

_sparkyCSI - I didn't think it was that popular! It's completely blown me away (and now I'm worried I'm not going to live up to expectations!) They never officially met, and I have a bit planned - I think you've got some of it - I can't remember what I sent you! I'm not sure when I'll be online next - but I have a feeling the timezone may have decreased by then! lol_

_demolished-soul - Thank you! She definately had nothing to do with it! I feel sorry for her too - but I know what you mean!_

_Madison Bellows - lol, thank you! And don't worry about it! I just hope life isn't too hectic for you!_

_princessg - She will certainly be heading in that direction (and she'll be back again soon). Last weekend seemed so long ago, I can't actually remember what I did (:s)_

_brttmclv - It's take a while, but they are finally getting there. Hope I haven't kept you waiting too long!_

_meadow567 - I agree - finally! Glad you liked!_

_Alana Xavier1 - lol - happy dance! Thank you, and I will try!!_

_Forest Angel - I felt some form of resolution (however temporary) was needed there. And thank you very much!_

_Um, no spoliers - just thanks to my beta!_

**

* * *

****What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 187: I'm gonna stop lookin' back and start movin' on, And learn how to face my fears**

Lindsay awoke with a start to the smell of coffee drifting through the apartment. Slightly confused, she extracted herself from Danny's bed and padded into his kitchen where he was busy whisking eggs. 'Danny?' she asked, slightly confused.

'Mornin' Montana,' he all but sung at her as he added a little more milk to the mix.

'What are you doing?'

Danny looked over and grinned. 'Well, I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed, what with it being your special day, and all, but I guess you'll have to sit patiently and wait for the omelets to cook.'

'Danny, what do you mean, my special day?' Lindsay asked, completely confused.

'Your birthday,' he explained. 'Well, it's not your _birthday _birthday, but that thing Taylor organized is tonight.'

Lindsay settled down onto a stool opposite, a small frown on her face. 'Danny,' she started, 'Are you sure this is a good idea? We buried Louie two days ago. I don't mind if we cancel, and I'm pretty certain no one else will.'

'I will,' Danny told her firmly, setting the bowl on the side. 'I miss Louie, I do. But I can't just sit around wishing I could change history. I think I need this, I think we _all_ need this. And I think, that if Louie were here, he would say the same thing.'

'Danny,' Lindsay tried to start.

'Linds, I love you for thinking of me like this, but I really think we need this. And I want to do this for you.' He sighed. 'Look, I didn't mean to snap at you the other day. I just wasn't in a good place then.'

Lindsay shifted uncomfortably on the stool. 'It's not your fault, Danny. I just…'

'It's alright,' he told her as he returned his attention to the eggs. 'And I really do think you should continue with this shindig!'

As soon as Lindsay nodded her agreement, Danny turned to the stove burner, not seeing the worrisome stare Lindsay was shooting in his direction.

--

Flack rolled over, finding the other side of the bed, not only empty, but very cold too. He opened his eyes, and listened, but only hearing the rain and wind hammering at the window, decided to get up. He pulled on a robe - the room was unusually cold - and headed downstairs. "What are you doing?" he asked Taylor, finding her sitting in front of the boiler, surrounded by tools.

"The boiler broke. We have no hot water."

"Shouldn't we call out an expert?" he asked her gently.

Taylor shrugged. "I couldn't get anyone out, and I need to shower. I don't want to turn up to the shrink's smelling.'

Flack sighed and settled down next to her. 'You know; we could always pop around to someone's place and borrow their shower.'

Taylor looked up at him with a pained expression. 'I can fix it, Don.'

'I don't doubt that you can,' Flack agreed as he busied himself with pouring a bowl of cereal. 'But I think the problem isn't the boiler.'

'I'm pretty certain the pieces over the floor aren't helping to warm this house up,' Taylor told him as she surveyed said bits.

Flack shook his head. 'I'm talking about your visit to the shrink and how a broken boiler is a convenient excuse to cancel. Although I still maintain they prefer the term, _therapist_.'

'I'm not…' Taylors trailed off and sighed. 'Fine. I am.'

'Tay,' Flack started patiently.

'Don, I'm going,' Taylor sighed. 'I have an appointment booked with some _shrink_ in a couple of hour's time. I just wanted to occupy myself for as long as I can.'

Flack sat down on the floor next to her. 'Can we at least get a professional in, Tay. This is gas we're talking about.'

'Fine,' Taylor agreed, grabbing the bowl and spoon out of Flack's hands and began munching on his cornflakes.

'Hey!' Flack objected. 'Don't deny a man of his food.'

--

At five feet, ten inches in flats, Taylor was quite a tall woman. She always had been – she remembered being in her last year at high school and the majority of the freshmen coming to below her chin – walking down a corridor, she towered above everyone.

When she hit college, the altitude problem had all but disappeared (save Maddy who was constantly complaining that she had to wear four inch heals to look her friend in the eye). However, sometimes, she had a slight issue taking people seriously if they were shorter than her – although only when they were in a position of authority and she was supposed to be agreeing with whatever they were saying. That was part of the reason she had been so committed to finding a fault with her high school principle.

Admittedly, she was regaining some control over that flaw, but as she sat in the waiting room for her shrink to appear, and the person in question called her name happened to look like a five foot two version of a meerkat, she was impressed. It didn't help that she didn't want to be there, either.

She followed him into his office and almost ran then. There were pictures of flowers and rainbows everywhere.

'Interesting pictures,' she muttered dryly.

'Aren't they?' he agreed, missing her sarcastic tone.

Refraining from rolling her eyes, Taylor sat down on the couch.

'So, Miss Turner, what brings you in here?'

'My fiancé?' Taylor shrugged.

'And why's that?'

Taylor sat back into the chair. 'He thinks I need to open up and talk.'

'About anything in particular?' he asked.

Taylor just shrugged at him.

'I don't judge, Miss Turner,' the meerkat told her. 'You clearly feel uncomfortable, so how about we ease the tension?' At her expectant stare, he continued. 'I always find a rendition of _Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life _is a great tension breaker.'

Taylor looked at him in disbelief. 'Are you serious?' she asked, not sure if she should be taking him seriously.

'Quite.'

Taylor blinked once, before rising to her feet.

'Oh, we can do a little dance too, if you like,' the meerkat told her, rising to his feet. 'Getting the blood pumping releases endorphins.'

'So does violence,' Taylor muttered as she stalked to the door.

'Alright, alright,' the meerkat cried, running after her. 'We'll not sing.'

Taylor stopped, whirling around go suddenly that the shrink ran into her. 'What if I told you I see ghosts?'

The little man looked up at her. 'Like Bruce Willis, _Sixth Sense,_ see ghosts?'

'Ghosts who had been murdered and then I have to help them find justice.'

The meerkat burst out laughing.

Fists clenched, Taylor turned around and continued storming out of the building.

--

She was surprised to find that Flack had had a very productive couple of hours whilst she was having a couple of unsuccessful ones. Cordelia had already been dropped off at Rikki's (who was turning into a god-send for last minute babysitting), a repair guy was fixing the dismantled boiler back together, and Flack had taken the kettle upstairs and almost filled a bath with hot water.

'How did it go?' Flack asked her.

'What are you doing?' Taylor asked him.

'Running a bath so you can be clean for the party later. And stop avoiding the question: how did it go?'

'Just how I predicted,' Taylor told him, grimly. 'He laughed at me.'

Flack settled down on the side of the bath. 'Where did you find this guy, Tay?'

Taylor shrugged. 'Internet.'

'On what site?' he asked her. 'quacksRusdotcom?'

'shrinksinthecitydotcom,' Taylor offered.

Flack burst out laughing. 'Well when you looked on that, I'm not surprised the guy laughed at you. Did he hold any form of medical degree? Psychology degree? Hell, any form of qualification?'

Taylor shrugged. 'Didn't ask.'

'And you didn't think to check his walls?'

Taylor shook her head.

Flack sighed. 'You know, our department has an excellent-'

'I'm not seeing some department shrink,' Taylor told him. 'I went to someone, already.'

'Tay, walking out does not constitute talking to someone.'

'Fine,' Taylor said, flinging her arms in the air. 'I will talk to someone else. With credentials,' she added.

--

Taylor walked into the club, glad to be out of the torrential downpour; the weather seemed eager to make up for the months of heat.

'You're here!' Sasha cried excitedly as she dashed over. 'I didn't think you would come. And I know you aren't up for being set up with anyone, but just in case, the DJ is really pretty,' she told her with a wink.

'Oh, I don't think you have to worry about that,' Flack announced, causing Sasha to jump with a squeal.

'What? You're back together?' she asked happily.

Taylor nodded with a smile. 'Yeah.'

'Thank God,' Sasha told them. 'Because that DJ gave me his number and he's _really_ cute.'

Taylor shook her head, laughing, and then grabbed Flack's arm, dragging him into the club.

'Have we just walked into a cliché?' Flack asked.

Taylor stared around the room at the bales of hay, propped up cartwheels, and even a trough. She laughed. 'You're wearing a Stetson, Don. You're a walking cliché yourself.' She leant up and brought her lips near his ear. 'And I _love_ the cowboy look,' she whispered, nibbling his ear.

'Noted,' Flack muttered, as he leant in to kiss her.

'I don't think Daisy Duke constitutes _Western_.'

'Marty!' Taylor yelled, breaking away from Flack and flinging herself on her ex-flatmate. 'What are you doing here?'

'Lindsay's birthday,' he said, stating the obvious.

'How long for?'

'We have a week off for Thanksgiving.'

Taylor stopped and gaped at him.

'Yes, Drew, Thanksgiving is next week,' he informed her, laughing.

'You staying with us, or do you want the keys to my old place?' Flack asked him.

Marty shook his head. 'Neither. I'm fixed for a week.'

Taylor pulled a face. 'Please tell me you've not found yourself another Devon?'

'She wasn't _that _bad,' Marty shrugged.

'No, of course not,' Taylor muttered. 'What are you looking at?' Both Marty and Flack were staring at something on the other side of the room, head's cocked.

'Is that…' Flack started.

'…Maddy?' Marty finished.

Taylor turned, spotting Hawkes and the woman they were talking about almost instantly. 'No, she's some diver cop. I can't remember her name.'

'And what's she doing with the Hawkman?' Marty exclaimed. 'I think I need to make an introduction,' he grinned as he left Flack and Taylor.

'Unbelievable,' Taylor muttered.

--

Danny looked over at Lindsay who was quietly sipping champagne and obviously thinking the party had been a bad idea. He took a breath and walked over to her, pulled the glass out of her hand and set it on the side, and then dragged her into the middle of the dance floor, much to her amazement.

'Danny?' she questioned.

'Shhhh,' he hushed her. 'This is your birthday party and no one is dancing,' he told her before swinging her around.

Lindsay grinned broadly as she swirled back into him.

'Of course,' he added with a grin to match Lindsay's. 'It could be that no one other than you likes this music.'

'I think they just needed approval that it's alright to dance,' Lindsay retorted nodding her head in the direction of the guests joining them on the dance floor.

'Well, little miss, I think you're gonna have to show me how it's done before this place is open to the public and everyone puts me to shame.'

Lindsay shook her head. 'No one's going to do that.'

Danny smiled. 'I love you, Montana.'

Lindsay smiled back. 'I love you too.'

* * *

_Sorry for the slow updating. Life is REALLY hectic at the moment. It's the week of our End Of Year Ball, which means this is the last free hour I have until sunday lunchtime (I'm not exagturating when I say i will be working about forty hours in three days!) But I go on Vay-Kay on monday (I'm so excited), and then I get to come back home (hopefully to a new job) but definately to a new home... minus a bed, because I have to buy one._

_As you can probably gather, life is hectic, but it's all good! The point being, I don't know when the next update will be, but I guess you've all come to expect that of me by now! Anyhoos, thanks for sticking with me and continuing to read!_


	189. Though you're gone we want you all to

_princessg - Hmmm, looks like I made you wait a while - sorry about that! I had a clear image of him - and he's not even based upon anyone!!_

_demolished-soul - I figured I could have some fun with that one - do you have any suggestions?? He's back for a while, and then I'll have him back for good_

_laplandgurl - the new job fell through (:c) but at least I still have that one - my friend got made redundant!! I think I would have been close to violent - Tay has a little more restraint that I do. Maybe we need to get Danny to a shrink too._

_Madison Bellows - RL has been taking over, but it's been going alright so I can't complain. Is it wrong that I quite like that image?_

_RK9 - Thank you! See, personally, I like the idea of those two together, but I'm still working on it - maybe she will tell him._

_sparkyCSI - no timezone problem and I still can't get online! Grrr! Darn the neighbours for putting passwords on their wireless, lol! I have no idea either, but apparently I am at work in the most boring of shops today, so maybe something will come to me_

_daytimedrama - yeah, I'm still the DL sucker. Which may become even more obvious in this chapter._

_meadow567 - thank you!_

_brttmclv - I think I kept you waiting this time though, so sorry about that! Lol, I'm cruel - in my head, he was either shuffling about or dancing like an idiot!_

_Sorry for the long delay folks! I moved house!! Anyhoos, here's 188 for ya, and a big thanks to my beta, sparkyCSI!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 188: Though you're gone we want you all to know we'll carry on**

A while after Big and Rich had finished and left the stage, Taylor found herself being dragged over to Danny and Lindsay, the former of whom she had been avoiding a little, by Flack who had decided it was enough.

'Glad you came, Drew,' Danny smiled at her.

'Really?' Taylor asked, feeling a little uncomfortable.

'Of course,' Danny told her. 'Don't be all paranoid!'

'I didn't think tonight would happen,' Taylor frowned.

'I didn't want to,' Lindsay jumped in. 'I was prepared to cancel.'

'Alright, this is a party,' Danny butted in. 'We're supposed to be getting drunk and having fun.'

Taylor inhaled, stood upright, and pulled Flack's Stetson off his head and on to hers. 'I'm going to get us alcohol,' she announced, bouncing off to the bar.

'I do wonder about her sometimes,' Flack muttered, watching her go.

Taylor bounded up to the bar, arriving with a jump and startling the auburn haired woman who was busy nursing both a beer and a shot of what looked like whiskey. 'Sorry,' Taylor smiled at her.

'You're… perky,' the woman told her, eyeing her suspiciously.

'I have had a crap couple of weeks and I'm determined to have a good time tonight.'

'I can relate,' the woman muttered, taking a shot of whiskey and then chasing it with a swig of beer. 'I got demoted.'

Taylor pulled of her Stetson and dumped it on the side. 'That sucks.'

'I deserved it,' the woman muttered miserably before looking over at Taylor, finally seeing her. 'You're Taylor Turner,' she muttered, slamming her head on the bar.

'Um, yes,' Taylor responded, hesitantly. 'What did I do?'

Cory raised her head. 'Nothing. Actually. Nothing at all.'

Taylor frowned. 'Do I know you?' she asked her, semi-convinced she recognized her voice from somewhere.

Cory quickly shook her head. 'No. I'm not sure I know me anymore though, either.'

Taylor glanced to the side, swiped a stool and pulled it over, sitting down next to her. 'Are you alright?'

Cory sighed and looked at her. 'I'm sorry,' she said heavily.

'It's alright,' Taylor told her, not fully realizing the true meaning of the apology. 'So, you like country music?' she asked, trying to change the subject.

Cory gave a dry laugh. 'Not really.'

Taylor looked at her, puzzled. 'Then, why…?'

'I was feeling a little homesick,' Cory sighed.

'Look, I don't know what's going on with you – I don't even know you. But tonight, I'm going to have fun, so if you want to join me and my friends, feel free. They're a great bunch.'

Cory was in the process of nodding when she caught who Taylor was pointing at. 'I think I've had enough,' she said instead, ducking her head and leaving.

Taylor watched her leave, feeling completely confused, but turned back to the bar. Flinging the Stetson around her neck, she gathered up the drinks and headed back to the others.

'What took you?' Lindsay asked.

Taylor took a swig of her cocktail and frowned. 'I was talking to someone at the bar. And now I'm wondering if alcohol is the answer to life's problems.'

'It might not be the answer to life's problems, but it tastes good,' Marty announced, appearing behind them.

'Where's Sheldon?' Flack asked.

Marty pulled a face. 'Took the Maddy lookalike home.'

Taylor choked on her cocktail. 'What?'

'Yeah, the Pino Powers didn't work.'

'Calling them that, I'm not surprised,' Stella cackled in laughter.

Taylor's head snatched up as _Footloose_ burst out of the speakers.

'Is this country?' Angell asked.

'Who cares?' Taylor grinned, grabbing Brie's hand in one hand, Ikaia's in the other, and dragged them onto the dance floor.

'I really do wonder,' Flack muttered, shaking his head, although there was a big smile on his face.

'Aw, stop being so boring,' Danny told him, grabbing Lindsay's hand and following the three women onto the dance floor and joining the line which was already forming.

'Who's that, and what have they done to Danny?' Marty asked, his mouth hanging open.

Angell looked at the three remaining people. 'What the hell? I'm joining my girlfriend,' she muttered, heading out, Stella right behind her.

Marty looked at Flack. 'You do realize _we're_ the ones who are going to look stupid now.'

Flack sighed, swallowed the remains of his beer and headed out.

--

'I'm drunk,' Taylor declared with a happy grin.

'I know,' Flack agreed, helping her with her jacket. 'So how about we get you home and into bed?'

'How about we walk home?' she asked.

Flack looked at her incredulously. 'How about we get a taxi? It's a ten minute ride as it is.'

Taylor grinned mischievously. 'How about we save the horsepower and I ride a cowboy,' she laughed before leaping on his back.

'What the hell?' Flack cried as he grabbed Taylor from underneath her knees to support her. 'Taylor, not funny. And really not original.'

Taylor laughed in his ear. 'Not for you, maybe. Me, I quite like the idea.'

'You know, I think Big & Rich had a slightly dirtier vision when they wrote that song,' he grumbled as he tried to flag down a cab.

'Oh, not as dirty as what's going through my mind right now,' Taylor whispered in his ear before nibbling at it.

'TAXI!' Flack bellowed.

--

Hours later, Danny followed Lindsay into his apartment, still humming Rascal Flatts _Loveable, Huggable, Kissable_, and sat down beside her on his couch. He watched her for a while as she stared off into space.

'What are you thinking about?' he asked, noting the pensive expression.

'The future,' she said distractively.

'What about it?'

Lindsay turned to face him. 'When you see the future, what do you see?'

Danny was slightly taken aback. 'That's a little deep for three in the morning, isn't it?'

'Seriously, Danny,' she pressed. 'What do you see?'

'You,' he told her simply, surprised at his answer, but knowing it was true. 'You, and me, a house, a family… maybe a little girl, or a boy… or both…' he trailed off when he saw the startled look on Lindsay, mentally kicking himself – they had only been back together for a short time. Sure last year they had been together for much longer, but there was a reason Lindsay had broken it off. And sure, he still had the ring. But the ring had been burning a hole in his wallet since the two of them had split up.

He had wanted to propose on Valentine's Day, last year. But then the whole thing with Frankie and Stella happened… then Louie's court case. Then they had split up, Louie had died. Although they had finally gotten back together, it had never felt like the right time – he was scared of losing Lindsay again.

All he knew was that he loved her. And if he had to wait until 2020 to propose, he would.

Next to him, Lindsay turned so that she was facing him – her expression unreadable. 'Really?' she asked.

Danny nodded. 'Really.'

Lindsay took a deep breath. 'I know this is a really unconventional way to do this, but I never claimed to be conventional.'

Danny blinked, wondering what the correct reaction was to that statement and what on Earth she was heading for. He'd never seen her this fidgety.

Lindsay gave a nervous laugh. 'Now I can see why the guys normally do this,' she muttered, so quietly that Danny barely caught any of it.

Lindsay cleared her throat, 'Danny, I love you,' she placed a finger over his lips to stop him from speaking. 'No, it's my turn,' she told him firmly. 'You can have yours next. Danny, I stopped believing in love, and forever, but right now, after everything that has happened in the past year… since I transferred here, I know one thing for certain: I love you, and life is too short to waste – work is a constant reminder of that. So, Daniel Messer, will you spend however many tomorrows we have left with me, as my husband? Will you marry me?'

Danny gaped at her, quickly regaining his composure. 'Where's my ring?'

Lindsay frowned – of all the reactions she had played out in her head, this was definitely not one of them.

Danny reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, extracting something from it. And then, he got off the couch and dropped down onto one knee, producing the ring. 'No, Lindsay, will you marry _me_?'

There were tears sparkling in Lindsay's eyes as she nodded, and Danny slipped the ring on.

And then Lindsay began giggling. 'There are many things I never expected from you, Danny, but I think you proposing dressed as a cowboy – still wearing the boots and hat – would have been one of them, if it wasn't such a crazy image!'

Danny pulled his hat off and placed it on top of Lindsay's head. 'The boots I like. The boots are staying on.'

--

Danny awoke the following morning happy and content (and with one boot on either side of the room), with Lindsay nestled firmly in his arms.

As she realized he was awake, Lindsay rolled over. 'Morning, handsome.'

Danny grinned. 'So, when do you want to tell everybody we're a couple?'

Lindsay laughed. 'How has no one guessed yet?'

'We were careful,' shrugged Danny. 'And we're good at our jobs – we know how to hide things… you know, I bet we really _could_ kill someone and get away with it.'

'And who are you wanting to murder?' asked Lindsay with a laugh.

Danny frowned. 'The guy who invented mornings.'

'You really aren't a morning person,' Lindsay agreed.

Danny pulled a face. 'Taylor knows.'

Lindsay nodded. 'I'm not surprised. You did turn up in Montana – that was kind of a giveaway.'

Danny smiled. 'How about we tell them today?'

'How about we keep it quiet – tell them when we give them our wedding invitations?'

'Wow!' Danny exclaimed.

'What?'

'Say that again.'

'What?'

'Our wedding,' Danny grinned. 'Man, I never thought I'd see that happen. When do you _want_ it to happen?'

Lindsay bit her lip. 'Well, that depends on _where_ you'll let us have it.'

'You're thinking Montana, aren't you?'

Lindsay nodded. 'There's this tradition for the Monroe's to get married at the Monroe Ranch – my grandmother's. But it's outside. I didn't do it the first time around, and look what happened there.'

'Lindsay, if you wanted to get married in the morgue, I'd think you were extremely weird, but I'd do it if that's what you wanted. And just because something like that happened to you before - it doesn't mean it's going to happen again, Linds,' he told her gently, kissing her hand.

Lindsay leant over and kissed his nose. 'August. We're pretty much guaranteed good weather. But you can pick the date.'

* * *

_Well guys, I'm sorry about being MIA for so long - I had my vacation and then I was moving house (seriously, it took me five days to build my bed!) I'm still moving, still at the henious job, but I'm still writing too - so thank you for still reading!_


	190. Woke up this morning with this feeling

_GRRRR! This is now my THIRD attempt at writing review responses because my internet/computer/me aren't working right!_

_sparkyCSI - I'm just about all in with the important stuff... minus the rabbits! Need a shed build first! I know what you mean about Cory - i feel the same way too! And I'm so going to take you up on that offer!_

_laplandgurl - Yeah, I'm thankful that I can still pay my bills, even if I'm still in the same working situation! I'm looking forward to writing some mischief with Maddy - although I have to find the time first! (:s)_

_demolished-soul - Is that in this fic or the show (should I be worried??) Thinks are going to work out for Cory - I feel too bad for her to let it lie like that!_

_AngelicStars - I feel honored! I'm glad you've enjoyed it. Despite everything, I'm still into that ship (I've already written parts of the wedding!)_

_meadow567 - I know how you feel - mine was a long time coming. Are you due any soon?_

_EvaFlack01 - I was wondering about that - I thought it time to clear it up. But I've had that idea in my head for a very long time! Dunno where it came from though! The chapter had me smirking - and I wouldn't object to any of the guys turning up on my doorstep dressed as a cowboy.. or just turning up...!_

_RK9 - I know, but I'm a sucker for happily ever afters! My first ship was DL although I will read anything except DnA!_

_I'm trying something different here, so bear with me – the muses found me!_

_Thanks to my wonderful beta, sparkyCSI!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 189: Woke up this morning with this feeling inside me that I can't explain**

The wind howling around outside the window was what woke Taylor up. She rolled over, reached for the alarm clock, and then sent that crashing to the floor. Seconds later, there was the sound of footsteps running upstairs, followed by Marty crashing into her room.

'Marty!' Taylor yelped, yanking her covers up over her shoulders.

'What happened?' Marty asked, looking around, as though expecting someone to be in there with her.

'I knocked my alarm off,' Taylor told him, pointing at the incriminating object. 'What the _hell_ are you doing here?'

Marty gave her a pointed look and cleared his throat. '_Where are you staying?_' he said, imitating Taylor. '_I need a favour. I want to cook a __Thanksgiving__ meal for everyone and I need you to make sure I don't kill anyone in the process. And where _are_ you staying?'_

Taylor glared at him. 'So if you came around to help, why didn't you wake me up? And where are Don and Cordelia?'

Marty shrugged. 'Flack said you hadn't been sleeping recently. Still, by the way?' he asked her, cocking his head.

Taylor groaned, pulling herself out of her bed and grabbing her robe. 'Yeah, still,' she muttered as she tied it around her. 'So where is my fiancé?'

Marty looked at her in disbelief. 'Taylor, why am I round here?'

'To teach me to cook.'

Marty frowned. 'I think the deal was to save everyone else. I'm not sure I promised delivering a miracle.'

'So where are they?' Taylor asked, ignoring Marty as she headed downstairs and into the kitchen.

Marty shook his head as he flicked on the small TV set.

'Macy's Parade!' Taylor exclaimed as she watched the pre-parade build up. 'Oh, do you think I could get there in time?' she asked him excitedly as she watched several men wrestle with the giant pikachu inflatable, before a gust of wind sent it upwards into the air. 'There's a pokemon loose over New York!'

Marty gave a frustrated grunt and turned Taylor by her shoulders to face the enormous turkey on the side.

'Holy crap,' Taylor muttered. 'Will that even fit in the oven?'

'Flack checked it before he bought it,' Marty told her. 'And you need to get dressed because this needs to get in the oven if it's going to be ready by the time everyone gets here this afternoon.'

Taylor arched an eyebrow. 'Couldn't you do it?'

'I thought you wanted me to teach you how to cook?' Marty asked her.

'I thought you couldn't perform miracles?' Taylor retorted.

'Go get dressed,' Marty chided her, ushering her out of the kitchen.

Taylor headed back to her bedroom and pulled a pair of combats out of her wardrobe. She pulled them on and stuck her hands in the pockets as she contemplated what top to put on with it. Her fingers closed around something small and she pulled it out, finding the small silver dime Mama Severina had given her a while back. Since being given the necklace from Dean, she wore that instead.

With a small smile, she place the dime anklet on her dresser and grabbed a band, tying her hair back, before pulling a vest top out and pulling that on and heading back downstairs.

After being shown what to do with the turkey, Marty stuck his head in the fridge and began pulling out various vegetables and other ingredients.

'A chef I am not, but surely if we start cooking them now, they're going to be mush by the time it comes to eating them.'

Marty nodded. 'True, but we're going to prepare them now so I don't miss much of the game.'

'The game? You're abandoning me?'

'Where has your head been recently, Drew?' Marty asked her. 'Maybe you do need to go see someone.'

'Not you too!' Taylor exclaimed.

Marty shrugged. 'Not a clue what you're on about. But it's actually a good idea, considering you're not sleeping. And Louie. And-'

'I went to see someone,' Taylor told him. 'He was a joke.'

Marty looked at her in surprise. 'Look, maybe you should see someone else. You know, the precinct-'

'That's it – you and Don are forbidden from talking to each other. I am not seeing a departmental shrink.'

'I don't think they like being called _shrinks_.'

'Marty, what am I doing with these cranberries?' Taylor snapped.

Marty eyed her warily before handing a bottle of port over.

'I think it's a little too early to be drinking,' she told him icily.

'It's for the cranberries,' Marty informed her.

With a glare, Taylor grabbed the bottle and began pouring the port into the bowl with the cranberries in.

'Not that much!' Marty yelled, grabbing the bottle back.

Taylor looked down at the bowl. 'That's too much?'

Marty inhaled deeply. 'I think it might be advisable not to let Cordy eat them, at any rate. She'll be drunk after a mouthful.'

Taylor bit her lip, trying to stop the smile. 'Ooops.'

--

'So who's your money on, pipsqueak?' Marty asked Cordelia, pulling her up on the couch between him and Danny.

'The Cowboys,' Cordelia told him.

'Whoa, whoa, whoa!' Danny exclaimed, mortified. 'How can you pick Texas over New York?' he turned to Flack. 'What are you teaching this girl?'

'Cordy, tell them what I told you earlier,' Flack sighed.

'The Cowboys are a bunch of cowboys. They don't know their heads from their asses-'

Hawkes, Danny and Marty burst out laughing as Flack virtually flew across the living room to clamp his hand over her mouth. 'Don't you let Taylor hear you say that word or I'll be in trouble!'

'So why the Dallas Cowboys?' Hawkes asked her as soon as Flack had removed his hand.

'Because Ruben supports the Jets,' Cordelia told them simply.

Taylor cleared her throat from the doorway. 'You men are not watching football _all _day. You can watch Green Bay, and then it's time to eat.'

'Tay, trust me, you're better off letting them watch the football,' Stella told them.

'But the turkey will be ready when the Jets game starts.'

'It's alright,' Cordelia told her. 'We can order the takeaway to arrive for half time.'

'Takeaway?' Taylor questioned.

Cordelia nodded solemnly. 'I don't like burnt turkey.'

'I am not going to burn the turkey!' Taylor exclaimed earning a roomful of laughter.

--

'Why do the women always end up in the kitchen whilst the men watch the football with the beer?' Angell moaned.

Brie laughed and pulled out a beer from the fridge, handing it over. 'You can complain, or you could go watch the game with me?'

Angell grinned. 'I like the second option,' she told her as they headed into the living room, leaving Taylor, Lindsay, Stella and Peyton in the kitchen.

'So I have something to give you both,' Lindsay said awkwardly.

Stella and Taylor looked at each other before looking at Lindsay. 'What?'

Lindsay bit her lip before sticking her hand into her purse and pulling out to crisp, cream envelopes, the writing embossed in gold.

'What's this?' Taylor asked, ripping it open. She pulled out a small card, a pink silk dress decorating the front of it, _Will You Be My Bridesmaid_ underneath.

'You're getting married?!' Taylor exclaimed, her mouth flapping open and closed.

'To who?' both Peyton and Stella asked.

'Danny,' Lindsay muttered, going red.

'But you two…' Stella trailed off, staring at the card.

'The answer is yes,' Taylor told her, wrapping her arms around Lindsay, who was beginning to look a little uncomfortable. 'When is the wedding?'

Lindsay flashed her a grateful smile. 'May 10th.' She frowned. 'Unless you and Flack are thinking of that date?'

Taylor shook her head. 'We agreed sometime next winter.'

Lindsay smiled and turned to Stella, staring expectantly at her.

'Oh,' Stella said. 'Oh, yes. Um, I think I'm going to have to say no.'

Taylor stared at Stella in disbelief. 'What?'

Stella smiled. 'It's nothing personal, Linds, but I don't think you're going to want an eight and a half month pregnant woman as your bridesmaid.'

'She wasn't asking an eight and a half month pregnant woman to be her bridesmaid,' Taylor told her.

'No,' Peyton agreed. 'She was asking a two month pregnant woman to be the bridesmaid.'

'Huh?' Taylor asked. And then the penny dropped. 'Oh my god! Congratulations,' she squealed jumping on Stella.

'Easy on the pregnant lady,' Stella told her, grinning madly.

'Does that mean you're getting married too?' Peyton asked.

Stella shook her head. 'Keanu and I broke up.'

'Why?' Lindsay asked, her mouth hanging open.

Stella smiled softly. 'Don't get me wrong; I want this baby,' she told them, her hands on her stomach. 'But he wasn't planned. And Keanu wasn't ready for a baby.'

Taylor snatched her apron off from over her head and flung it on the side. 'When I get my hands on him-'

'Taylor, it's fine,' Stella told her. 'Well, it's not. But I'm going to be alright.'

'Of course you are,' Peyton told her. 'You've got us.'

Stella gave her a surprised look and nodded. 'Thank you. I-' she frowned as her cell phone began ringing. 'Excuse me,' she muttered, heading into the hall.

She was barely out when Flack came in. 'Mac just called. I've got to go in.'

'But it's Thanksgiving,' Taylor pouted. 'I thought you were off.'

Flack walked over and gave her a quick kiss. 'I _have_ to take this one, Tay.'

Taylor looked up, meeting his eyes, and nodded. 'Alright. We'll try to hold off eating.'

'You got a call too?' Stella asked.

Flack nodded.

'Let's go then,' she sighed as the two of them left.

'Your boyfriend has really got to learn to take a damn vacation,' Taylor grumbled to Peyton as she pulled the apron back on.

'Tell me about it,' Peyton responded.

--

They left the food until after the second game had finished but there was still no sign of Flack and Stella returning so Taylor served the food. Despite the fact that it was actually really good, Taylor couldn't find herself enjoying herself.

By eleven, everyone had gone, except Marty who had fallen asleep in the spare (undecorated, really being used for storage) bedroom, and Cordelia was tucked up in bed. Taylor sat down with her both the home phone and her cell phone on the coffee table in front of her, and switched on the TV.

She was still awake at nearly six the next morning when Flack walked in looking dreadful.

'What happened?' Taylor asked – she had dashed to the front door the second she had heard the key turn in the lock.

Flack sighed. 'Mac killed someone. A suspect.'

Taylor pulled him into the living room and seated him on the couch. 'But you've shot someone before, and so has Stella. And I think Danny has too.'

Flack shook his head. 'He didn't shoot them, Tay. It was Clay Dobson.'

'Who is Clay Dobson?' Taylor asked him.

Flack leant back into the couch and shut his eyes. 'You remember Truby?'

Taylor nodded.

'When Truby got arrested, the scumbags he'd arrested went to town – their lawyers had a field day. Dobson was one of them. He was released a few weeks back.'

'Right,' Taylor said carefully. 'But I don't understand why Mac would kill him.'

Flack sighed, opening his eyes. 'He was like a man possessed. All Mac wanted today, was to get Dobson.'

Taylor licked her lips. 'But why?'

'I got called out this morning, about four am. Kids had been playing around on Coney Island and they found a body wrapped in saran wrap.' He ran his hand over his face. 'When Sid removed it, he discovered that she had had her eyelids cut off.'

'I still don't get it,' Taylor muttered.

'Removing the eyelids was Dobson's MO. We found another girl, still alive, and she identified Dobson. Mac took off after him, I took off after Mac,' Flack's head sunk into his hands. 'I found them on the roof, just in time to see Mac shoot him.'

Taylor gently placed her hand on his shoulder. 'Are you sure? Could it be self-defense?'

Flack sighed, shaking his head. 'No. He was cuffed.'

'Are you sure?' she asked, blinking in disbelief.

Flack raised his head. 'I arrested Mac, Taylor. I arrested Mac Taylor because he pushed a cuffed suspect off the roof of a building.'

'Don,' Taylor sighed.

Flack looked at her looking completely lost. 'Tay, if I hadn't have given Mac my book, Truby wouldn't have been arrested and Dobson would still be in prison.'

'Don,' Taylor started again. 'Mac would have just subpoenaed your notebook anyway. And we would still be sat here.'

Flack rose to his feet. 'I'm going out.'

'Where?' Taylor asked him.

'Out,' Flack replied as the front door shut behind him.

'Mac a murderer?' Taylor muttered, shaking her head.


	191. I’m going slightly mad

_numba 1 CSI lover - Thank you so much! i'm glad you stuck it out and that you enjoy it. And I need to write some more fluff - it's fun to write and I feel like I haven't written any ages!_

_kabwnb - Hey, I'm not complaining if that's the reason you read it - I'm just glad that you've enjoyed it! The bit that worries me, is that whilst I finally have an end in mind, it's ages away - I think my baby is just going to keep on growing!_

_The Corrupter - How's Canada treating you? I'm glad you're still reading. I don't know what I'm doing with her - I haven't actually thought that far in advance. I know I'm not finished with her (I need to wrap a few things up)_

_Lozzarooni - Did you work out where you were up to, or did you have to read everything again? I hope you've enjoyed it the second time around, as well as the new chapters!_

_Aphina - Hey, don't worry about it. I dread to think how far behind I am on all the reading I need to do! Lol, that's what I thought, which I hadn't thought of at the time - so I wonder what to do with that!_

_demolished-soul - I'm glad someone does! I hope it doesn't get too confusing! Yes, Marty is staying. He's going to finish out his teaching stint, and then he's coming back (which, storyline wise, will be after Christmas!) Cory will be back too, to wrap some loose ends - other than that, I haven't thought further ahead!_

_sparkyCSI - You have no idea how much this chapter confused me too. I finished DJing early (what a boring wedding party!) and figured it was time to update! And they did win the game!_

_RK9 - I used to love that show, but I haven't seen it in ages! I've gone off that pairing, and when I eventually get around to season 4, I may follow the show and write her out - it depends on if I can find my love for her!_

_meadow567 - well, I hope you get some vacation time (if you haven't already had it since I last posted!). I started reading the one with Marie in, then I stopped because I still haven't seen Miracle - which I know I really need to do - but at one of the jobs, I started reading again. (I'm only up to her going on a date with simon, though) Although I have no idea who the characters are. Yeah, I need to get that on DVD!_

_laplandgurl - cinnamon rolls are a no no (I'm allergic!!) My ideas went a little wacky with this eppy, but hopefully it will all make sense (:s)_

_Okay, so this is where it might get confusing. Hopefully not though!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 190: I'm going slightly mad**

The wind howling around outside the window was what woke Taylor up. She rolled over, reached for the alarm clock, and then sent that crashing to the floor.

Taylor stared at the clock on the floor, completely confused as Marty came crashing into her room.

'What happened?' Marty asked, looking around, as though expecting someone to be in there with her.

Taylor gave him a puzzled look. 'I knocked my alarm off again,' Taylor told him, pointing at the incriminating object. 'I did the same thing yesterday and you still came bounding in like there was someone else in here with me.' She glanced down at Flack's side of the bed and sighed. 'Has Don come home yet?'

Marty returned the confused look. 'He left about an hour ago. He won't be back until after the parade.'

'Oh,' Taylor frowned.

'Are you alright?' Marty asked her.

Taylor nodded slowly. 'I think I had a weird dream.'

'Are you _still_ having those?' Marty asked her. 'Flack said you hadn't been sleeping recently. Still, by the way?' he asked her, cocking his head.

Taylor pulled herself out of her bed and grabbed her robe. 'Yeah, still,' she muttered as she tied it around her. 'What day is it?'

'Thanksgiving,' Marty told her. 'You know – you asked me to come around.'

'To teach me to cook,' Taylor muttered slowly.

Marty frowned. 'I think the deal was to save everyone else. I'm not sure I promised delivering a miracle.'

Taylor frowned and headed to her wardrobe, pulling out a pair of combats.

'Drew, if you want to get dressed, which is an excellent idea, by the way, can you please do it without me in the room.' Marty cocked his head. 'Actually, ignore that request. Go ahead. Get changed.'

Taylor ignored him, her hand pulling out the dime anklet. 'I am having a serious case of déjà vu,' she muttered. She turned to Marty. 'I need to go out.'

'Taylor, we need to get the turkey in the oven otherwise it won't be ready for when everyone comes around this afternoon.'

Taylor looked at him with a small frown on her face. 'Put it in the oven after it's been basting for half an hour, set the oven to 395F and it will be ready before the Jets game starts,' she told him as she began pulling her hair into a pony tail.

Marty's frown deepened. 'Since when did you learn how to cook a turkey?'

'Today,' Taylor muttered, pushing him out of the bedroom so she could throw her clothes on. He was still standing outside the door when she emerged, barely seconds later.

'Where are you going?'

'To check if I've lost my mind,' Taylor muttered.

Marty followed her down the stairs. 'I know a-'

'I am not seeing a departmental shrink,' Taylor yelled as the front door slammed shut behind her.

Marty stared at the door – an unimpressed look upon his face. 'How did I know I'd be the one cooking?' he muttered. 'You'd best be back for the Jets game!' he yelled at the closed door.

--

Circumnavigating the city to avoid the parade traffic was a little harder than Taylor expected. She managed it, going out of the way to come back in, and by the time she arrived, she was beginning to wonder if she had actually gone way past mad.

The crime lab was surprisingly empty. Taylor frowned. Or maybe it wasn't – if it was Thanksgiving again.

'Taylor?'

Taylor turned, spotting Mac. 'Mac,' she responded, walking over.

'I'm glad you're here,' Mac told her, his expression grim as he led her into his fishbowl office.

Taylor sat down. 'Okay, I didn't get arrested yesterday for murdering someone else, and nobody died.' She looked up. 'Nobody died, did they?'

Mac gave her a puzzled look, but shook his head. 'No, it's about Special Agent Reid.'

'I thought I'd been cleared of everything,' Taylor cried.

Mac nodded. 'You have, and it's not about that, exactly.'

'Exactly?' Taylor questioned.

'She may have approached it in the wrong way, but she made a perfectly valid point. Ghosts or not, you shouldn't be wandering around this lab, and you certainly shouldn't be at crime scenes. I should have put a stop to it months ago, Taylor, but I'm going to have to request that you empty that locker you acquired, and you are not to go further than the reception area.'

Taylor leant forward, pacing her hands together, almost as if she was praying, as she brought her lips against her index fingers. 'I guess I probably should have seen that one coming a while back. And I get that you don't believe in ghosts. Which is why this is going to seem completely crazy. But I know who killed the girl who has no eyelids.'

Mac stared at her. 'What did you say?'

'Oh crap,' Taylor muttered as she raked her hands through her hair. 'Um, Coney Island. The girl you found all wrapped up.'

'How do you know about her eyes?' Mac demanded.

'I didn't kill her!' Taylor suddenly cried, her eyes growing wide. 'I just, oh God. It was Dobson. Clay Dobson.'

Mac was on his feet and striding out of his office in an instant.

'Oh crap,' Taylor repeated as she scuffled to her feet and charged after him.

--

'Mac? You're a little early. I hadn't-' Sid greeted Mac as he stormed into the morgue.

'Has she had her eyelids removed?' Mac asked him.

Sid slowly shook his head. 'I haven't finished processing the rest of her body yet, Mac, never mind cutting the tape off her face.'

'Do it,' Mac ordered him.

Sid, slightly puzzled at his tone of voice, nodded and picked up the scissors.

'I hope you're wrong about this,' Mac told Taylor.

'So do I,' Taylor muttered.

'I haven't checked the tape for visible prints,' Sid added as he began cutting.

'Just cut the tape off, Sid.'

Sid nodded and continued cutting before carefully peeling the paper back in two halves.

'Oh God,' Taylor muttered, covering her mouth with her hand as she dashed to the sink. She returned to the table, keeping a few paces back so she didn't have to see the woman's face again. She was trying to stop the world from spinning when Mac whirled on her.

'How did you know?'

Taylor swallowed. 'Would you believe me if I said this is the second same Thanksgiving I've had?'

Mac looked at her like she had lost her mind. 'No.'

'Excuse me?' Sid asked, slightly confused.

Taylor stared at the coroner, before clearing her throat. 'Sorry – too much of that festive cheer already,' she muttered, rubbing at her cheek, unable to take her eyes away from the dead woman's face.

'Mac, these incisions are precise and clean. The instrument was sharp. No abrasions.' Sid frowned. 'It could be a scalpel.' Sid leaned in and examined the eyes closer. 'Worst part is it was done pre-mortem. The guy was a real sicko.' Sid looked between Mac and Taylor. 'And yet neither of you seem surprised.'

Mac sighed. 'I've seen this before. We locked up a guy five years ago; Clay Dobson. He used the same signature.'

'That's a highly unusual one. You think we could be looking at a copy cat here?'

'No, Mac replied, shaking his head. 'Dobson was released from prison.'

--

Taylor was pacing up and down in reception, trying to remember anything she could from yesterday. Or today. She still wasn't sure. The problem was, Mac wasn't being receptive in helping her (he didn't believe her, which was understandable considering she didn't really believe it either).

Her phone rang making her start. She pulled the vibrating object out of her pocket and hit answer. 'Hi Don,' she sighed.

'_Taylor, where are you?'_

'I'm in the reception of the Crime Lab.'

'… _Why?'_

'It's nothing important,' she muttered.

'_Tay, what's wrong?'_

'Nothing,' she lied. Taylor shut her eyes and sighed. 'Alright. Something. I think I need your help.' There was silence from the other end. 'Don?' she asked uncertainly.

'_Give me half an hour and I'll be there. And thank you.'_

'For what?'

'_For asking for help,'_ he told her.

--

'Is there a reason you're in Reception?' Flack asked as he walked over to Taylor.

Taylor looked up from her position on the plastic leather chair and nodded. 'Mac has revoked any access I had to the lab. I'm restricted to Reception unless accompanied by a member of staff.'

Flack looked surprised. 'And you're listening to him?'

Taylor nodded. 'Don, I think I'm going insane.'

'Just because that quack therapist laughed at you does-'

Taylor quickly shook her head. 'Yesterday, I woke up, I cooked Thanksgiving dinner, and Mac killed a cuffed suspect.'

Flack crouched down in front of her. 'Are you alright?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Yes. No… I don't know, Don. I really think I've lost my mind,' she told him, genuinely scared.

Flack frowned, pulling himself into the chair next to her. 'You're going to have to explain this a little better.'

'Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and you got called out to a case. There was a body at Coney Island – a woman wrapped in saran wrap.'

'That was this morning,' Flack told her. 'Not yesterday.'

'It was yesterday as well,' Taylor told him. 'You came home last night and told me that you had arrested Mac for shooting a suspect who was handcuffed.'

'Mac wouldn't kill someone unless it was in defence, Taylor.'

'I know,' Taylor told him, a hint of desperation in her voice. 'I know that – that's what I told you. But you said that Clay Dobson-'

'Clay Dobson?' Flack asked, his eyes suddenly flashing stormy blue.

Taylor nodded, suddenly feeling a little scared. She had little chance for much else when Flack was up on his feet, storming into the lab.

'Don!' she called. She looked helplessly at his rapidly disappearing body, and then, figuring it was a close to being supervised as it could be, took off after him.

'Mac. You said you did the right thing when you put Detective Truby away,' Flack was saying as Taylor slipped in through the door.

Mac's eyes flicked over to Taylor before returning to Flack. 'Truby was dirty,' he told him calmly.

'But because you locked him up, Clay Dobson's conviction was overturned.'

Mac nodded. 'That's on Truby's head – not mine.'

'There was no forensic evidence,' Flack told him, clearly frustrated. 'No witness in the case, Mac. Dobson's conviction rested solely on the confession he gave Truby.'

'I know the case, Don,' said Mac, who was also becoming frustrated. 'What's your point?'

'Has Dobson killed again?'

Mac pursed his lips. 'I have a body killed with the same MO as Dobson.'

'That doesn't bother you a little bit?' Flack asked him, a combination of horrified and surprised.

'The way I feel has never affected the way I do my job,' Mac replied coldly.

'My weakness, I guess,' Flack muttered. 'But every hood Truby has ever convicted is going to be angling for a get out of jail free pass. Clay Dobson was just the first in line.'

'Are you having a good time saying I told you so?'

'No,' Flack cried. '_I_ gave you my case book and without it you wouldn't have been able to lock Truby up.'

'That was my responsibility,' Mac told him, firmly. 'You did the right thing – let it go. Let me take the hit.'

Taylor stared between the two of them. 'So what are we going to do about Clay Dobson?' she asked, trying to disperse some of the tension in the room.

'We're going to put him away for good this time,' Mac replied, all whilst never taking his eyes off Flack.

* * *

_One day, I shall learn that working two 37 hour jobs is not good for me. Especially when I hate one of them more than Flack hates running. I don't know what's happening with my updates at the moment. I am writing, but I've gotten ahead of myself, so immediate chapters aren't completely there. Bear with me, please!_


	192. Right now on earth I can't do jack

_numba 1 CSI lover - glad you liked! And thank you!_

_Trizzy - I've been wondering where you went - I hope your internet connection is fixed (I feel so lost without mine, and I never get chance to go on it!). I've actually written up to 196, so I don't doubt it'll be too long before I get to 200 - i might just have a party, lol. I try to use as many lyrics in the titles as I can, but Linkin Park are really good for that (plus I do like them, too!)_

_laplandgurl - fresh baked bread is the nicest treat! I will gladly accept that! Thank you! I have plans to bring back Horatio - heck, I may even send her to Miami, lol. Glad you liked the twist - i was a little unsure, but figured I would run with it. _

_Madison Bellows - RL will eventually calm down - it's got to , or I'm going to burn out!! I liked thsi episode but I was thinking the whole time, what if Mac had done it (I'm not his biggest fan either)._

_meadow567 - It's being read, albeit slowly (:c) as I have to wait for my boss to disappear when I'm at work. And I really didin't know much about it - I had to turn to Wikipedia (Yeah, I suck!)_

_Alana Xavier1 - I would love to, but the one I love can't guarantee the hours. I'm just looking to quit both now! (:D) But thank you!_

_demolished-soul - It's very true - and this week, thus far, I have an "easier" week, which will be nice! It is the first time, I've used it (although I don't think I'll be using it again!) but it's been fun!_

_brttmclv - I really wish I could go back to the days when I was updating daily. I miss them, particularly because I enjoy writing so much. But I have more that I want to say, so I'll be writing for a while to come (though, hopefully, people will still be reading it then!)_

_sparkyCSI - I think this is about where I stopped liking Mac's character so much too, actually. He was always so... honorable (I think that's the word I'm after) and it just disappeared. I quite like the idea of her out of the lab for a while. It'll be good for her!_

_Still got the same spoilers, and I still have a multitude fo thanks for my wonderful beta!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 191: Right now on earth I can't do jack, without the "man" upon my back**

Taylor was back in the reception pacing back and forth impatiently. Mac had taken only a few extra minutes to remind her that she wasn't supposed to be in the lab and had personally escorted her to the "neutral" area.

'I thought you were cooking everyone dinner,' Stella's voice carried across the room.

Taylor turned to face the curly-haired detective and sighed. 'That went out the window when Mac started killing people.'

'I beg your pardon?' Stella questioned, slightly alarmed.

Taylor quickly shook her head. 'No, um, I meant figuratively,' she frowned. 'I…never mind. I guess you weren't coming around either.'

'No, but I have had a call off Marty telling me that should I see you, you were to turn your phone on and listen to the voicemails, although it sounds like they're all going to say _get home_.'

'Yeah, probably,' Taylor agreed, feeling a little guilty. 'I kinda left him to do all the cooking, and it looks like Don left Cordy with him.'

'Oh, he did,' Stella agreed. 'Marty was saying something about a football game.'

Taylor sighed again. 'I don't know why he's bothered. The Giants are going to win by three points anyway.'

Stella stared at her. 'You got money riding on that game or something?'

'No,' Taylor returned.

'Out of curiosity, why are you out here?'

Taylor shrugged. 'That FBI agent freaked Mac out. I'm not allowed in the lab. I guess it was a long time coming, really.'

'You haven't had a visitor, have you?' Stella asked her.

'Not exactly,' Taylor replied, wondering if it was worth even beginning to try explaining the situation. 'I take it you got called in for Dobson,' she asked, evading an answer.

'You know it's Dobson?'

Taylor nodded. 'Mac left saying he was on his way there a while ago.'

Stella exhaled softly. 'I guess I had better see if Adam's managed to get any results sorted.' Stella started to leave and stopped. 'Oh, if Flack says anything – he's a big and burly police officer.'

'Is that supposed to mean something to me?' Taylor questioned her.

Stella shrugged. 'Only if Flack brings it up.'

'Oh,' Taylor frowned. And then her mouth dropped open. 'Oh, I meant to say – congratulations.'

Stella looked at her suspiciously. 'What do you mean by that?'

Taylor froze. 'Oh, we haven't had this conversation yet,' she muttered. 'I uh… the um party… you weren't drinking. I just, uh, took a wild guess?' she finished lamely.

Stella walked over to her, still frowning. 'Look, I don't know how you found out – and I was going to tell you this evening – but I haven't told anyone else yet, and I'd rather you didn't mention anything.'

Taylor nodded hurriedly. 'Your secret is safe with me,' she promised.

Stella nodded giving her a smile. 'I know. I should go find Adam.'

Taylor nodded and watched her leave as she sank into one of the uncomfortable seats and turned her cell phone on. Stella was right. There were eight voicemails and fourteen texts messages ranging from _are you okay?_ to _Taylor, the game kicked off and I still have cranberry sauce to make and a seven year old to occupy. Get your scrawny ass back here or I am going to give you food poisoning!_

Taylor finished listening to the messages and winced. Admitting defeat, she dialed home. It was picked up on the second ring.

'_Flack, Turner and temporarily the Pino residence,_' a female voice answered.

Taylor pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at the screen.

'_Hello?'_ the voice called.

Taylor hurriedly put the phone back to her ear. 'Who's this?'

'_Who is this?'_

'The Turner of the Flack, Turner and temporary Pino residence.'

'_Taylor? Hi. How are you doing?'_

'Fine. Just really, _really_ confused,' Taylor told the voice.

'_Oh, sorry. It's Dallas.'_

Taylor's nose wrinkled up in confusion. 'I didn't call a city- Oh! Dallas! Hi.' Taylor frowned. 'What are you doing there?'

Dallas laughed. '_Marty needed a hand. Said he'd been abandoned and the game was about to start. I'm just finishing up dinner. When will y'all be back for that, by the way?_'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'Are you Marty's mystery girlfriend?'

'_I didn't realize I was a mystery, but yes.'_

'Okay,' Taylor shrugged. 'Will you tell Marty I'll be home as soon as I can?'

'_No problem, Taylor.'_

Taylor hung up just as Stella came back into the reception carrying a folder. 'Has Mac come back up yet?' she asked as the elevator doors pinged open. Taylor looked up and pointed, answering the question. 'Hey, Mac, I got something,' Stella told him holding up the folder.

Mac nodded, his expression grim as he nodded, indicating he should follow him. Taylor paused long enough to reason that if he didn't want her to follow she'd get thrown out soon enough and followed them into the office.

'The DNA on the blood smudges that Sid found on Emma's arm came back. It's not hers, but we already found a match to someone in the Missing Persons Database,' Stella pulled out a photograph and handed it over. 'A young girl; her name's Katie Lawrence, 24 years old. She went missing after a night of drinking at a Soho bar.'

Mac looked at her sharply. 'We have a second victim out there? How long has she been missing?'

'About a month,' Stella told him.

Mac looked at the picture with a frown. 'If her blood was on Emma Pierce's body, the only time it could have been transferred was last night.'

'How do you know that?' Taylor asked, then froze as Mac stared at her.

'Blood only transfers when it's wet.' He looked at Stella. 'This Lawrence girl could still be alive.' He frowned as he looked at the photograph. 'Looks a lot like Emma. Same age, brunette, petite. Both disappeared in the same area. Take a look,' he told them as he held up a photograph of each of the women next to each other.'

'Yeah. They're very similar,' Stella agreed.

'Most serial killers have a type,' said Mac.

'Right.'

'So who's this one?' Taylor asked as Mac held up a third photograph he had located on his desk.

'Lauren Henning.'

'The girl Clay Dobson went away for five years ago?' Stella asked.

Mac nodded. 'Held her captive for three weeks, cut off her eyelids before he killed her.'

Taylor could feel her stomach churning. 'I so did not want to hear that,' she muttered.

Stella flashed her look before turning her attention back to Mac. 'All right, so you definitely think Dobson's our guy?'

Mac nodded grimly. 'He's been out of prison three months, we already have two victims-- one missing, one dead. Between that and the eyelids, this can't be a coincidence.'

Taylor shut her eyes. 'Look, I'm going to regret asking this, but why is he cutting their eyelids off?'

'It's a sign of dominance – he wants his victims to look at him,' Mac explained.

'Yeah, I didn't want to know that,' Taylor muttered.

'I'm going to see if Katie Lawrence's mother is about so I can talk to her,' Stella announced as she breezed out of the door.

Taylor bit her lip and stared at Mac. He looked up at her. 'Is there something you wanted to say?'

Taylor took a deep breath. 'Yeah, but you can't get upset about me asking it.'

Mac eyed her suspiciously. 'I am not about to let you go wandering back around the lab.'

Taylor hurriedly shook her head. 'It's annoying, but that's not it.' She took another breath. 'Mac, you wouldn't do anything stupid, would you?'

'What do you mean by that?'

'Look, I know how you feel about the ghosts, and that's fine, I get that. But I think I've already lived this day, and it didn't turn out so well the first time around,' she tried to explain.

'You've got déjà vu?' Mac asked her.

Taylor shook her head. 'Kinda wish it was, but I'm pretty certain it isn't. Mac, today, you're going to kill Clay Dobson,' she blurted out.

Mac blinked. 'I beg your pardon?'

'Tact,' Taylor muttered. 'I need to learn tact.'

'Taylor, that's a pretty strong accusation you've got going there,' Mac told her, rising to his feet. 'And whilst I have no idea where it came from, I can assure you that the only way Clay Dobson is going to get killed by me is in self defense.'

Taylor looked at him imploringly. 'I know it sounds crazy, Mac, but please don't do anything stupid.'

'Taylor, I think it's about time you got out of my lab,' Mac told her in a cold anger.

Taylor took one look at the expression on his face and nodded. 'I'm going,' she told him. 'But please think about-'

'OUT!' Mac roared.

Taylor turned and continued out of the door. 'You know, you don't have to escort me,' she told him as he walked her down the corridor.

'You'd think that, wouldn't you?' he told her dryly.

Taylor sighed and was about to make another attempt to warn him when Gerrard appeared with a face like thunder.

'Why did you talk to Dobson?' Gerrard demanded, without bothering to move from the corridor. 'You know he's got a ten-million-dollar lawsuit against us for wrongful conviction?'

'Doesn't make him innocent,' Mac fired back.

Gerrard glared at him. 'I just got a call from his lawyer. After your little visit today, they're adding charges of police harassment.'

'Original,' Taylor muttered, earning herself a silencing glare from both officers.

'Look, I'm not gonna back away from this case because of Dobson's legal antics,' Mac told Gerrard.

'You didn't have to go barging into his workplace,' Gerrard snapped.

Mac shrugged. 'I wanted to rattle his cage. There may be another girl out there.'

'Ever think you just signed her death warrant by tipping him off?' Gerrard asked him.

Taylor watched the two of them, wondering if she should try to make an escape, or wait for Mac to finish with Gerrard. Opting for the latter, she bit her lip and stood back.

'Look, Dobson's smart,' Mac continued. 'He's knows we're onto him. He won't go near her. Besides, I put a tail on him just in case.'

'Take it off,' Gerrard told him

'You're telling me to drop surveillance?' Mac asked him incredulously.

'We don't need the legal complications.'

'When did you put down your badge and start running for office?' Taylor asked him.

That actually earned a small smile of Mac.

'How can you be so damn sure it's Dobson?' Gerrard asked Mac. 'You've got no evidence.'

'Emma pierce had her eyelids cut off,' Mac explained, clearly beginning to get frustrated. 'That's a highly distinctive signature, one that Dobson used on a victim five years ago.'

Gerrard looked at him angrily. 'So you created this mess on the basis of an M.O.?'

'It's a signature. One that expresses the killer's personality, something he has to do.'

Gerrard threw his hands into the air in exasperation. 'Enough with this Quantico mumbo jumbo. You're letting your own guilt over Dobson's release rule this case.'

'That's bull and you know it!' Mac snapped back at him, clearly as frustrated. 'We've already questioned one possible suspect. Anyone else looks good; we'll question them, too.'

'You sure?' Gerrard questioned. 'What about the results on the semen you found on the mover's blanket. DNA matched a man in the national database-- Martin Boggs. Why aren't you going after him?'

Mac paused for a moment. 'We're looking at him.'

Gerrard stepped back. 'You know, when the press gets wind of this, they'll make it look like we're gunning for Dobson just to make his lawsuit go away. Don't mess this up, Mac,' he finished before storming back the way he came.

Mac turned to Taylor. 'I want you to leave, now.' Instead of waiting for a response, he headed off back into the lab.

* * *

_24th of September, people - that's when the new season of CSI:NY airs in the states! That's 37 days! (And yes, i'm counting!)_


	193. I'm a fire and I'll burn, burn, burn

_Karen - Sadly, finding the time to write has become somewhat problematic of late, although, at the rate I'm going, I'll be off sick with stress in no time! I'm so glad you're enjoying this, and thank you!_

_Trizzy - No, the guy looks really creepy with no hair - i hope it's grown back (although it did really suit the character). If you can come up with any, do send them me!_

_Madison Bellows - Oh no, I'm most definately counting!! (30!!) and I'm also a geek and counting down to the release of HSM3 - yeah, I did just admit to that! Their relationship is actually one of my favorite to write, so I'm glad it conveys well!_

_laplandgurl - No, he's not, although I would be slightly miffed is someone told me I was going to kill someone! lol_

_RK9 - I did double check, because I thought you didn't love me anymore (over-melodramatic sob!) Dallas was the woman from the Bond episode (in my story at least. She worked in the Museum - she was Devon's friend. Marty obviously has no morals, lol)_

_demolished-soul - sadly the workload feels like it's always increasing, with the occasional dip. A 40 hour week is a quiet one to me! It has been fun, whilst difficult, and I'm almost convinced I have it all played out in my mind, although there won't be a reason for a while, that i do know!_

_meadow567 - I was very pleasantly surprised by that film - I was convinced everyone was hyping up Ledger's performance, but he really was good. Go for it! And then let me know!!_

_sparkyCSI - Yeah, I want to be able to like Mac again! I have another chapter for you, I think, so I might send that with your beta'd chapters!_

_Big thanks to my beta, Sparky!_

_And we've still got spoilers for... oh, whatever they've been for the last few chapters (my brain is frazzled and I can't actually remember the episode name!)_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 192: I'm a fire and I'll burn, burn, burn tonight**

Taylor was back outside in the wind, nursing a cup of coffee, watching the wisps of steam blow away before they had chance to curl upwards.

'Can you make that Irish?' a voice mumbled morosely.

Taylor half turned and saw Adam looking a little sorry for himself. 'You okay?'

Adam sighed. 'Mac came in and chewed me out. But it was kinda my own fault.'

Taylor licked her lips. 'So that might have had something to do with me.'

Adam eyed her warily. 'Why?'

'Well, Gerrard isn't too impressed, Dobson is clearly bothering him, and I don't help by wandering around the lab and accusing him of things he hasn't done yet.'

Adam gave her a puzzled look. 'What are you accusing him of doing?'

Taylor gave him a weak smile. 'I'd tell you, but I've already had enough weird looks today.'

'Does it have anything to do with why you're always in the lab?' he asked her curiously.

Taylor sighed. 'Not today.'

'Can I ask you something?' Adam asked her.

'Sure,' Taylor nodded.

'Why _are_ you always in the lab? I mean, none of the cases end up in your column.'

'You read that?' Taylor asked, surprised.

Adam blushed and looked down. 'I did before I knew who you were.'

Taylor held her hands up. 'I didn't mean anything by it,' she said. 'I just didn't know.'

Adam looked down at the floor. 'I like it.'

'Thank you,' Taylor smiled, feeling as shy as Adam looked.

Adam glanced back at her. 'So why are you always here?'

Taylor turned, watching a patrol car pull up and an officer get out and escort a prisoner into the building. 'I don't think I can tell you,' she told him eventually. 'I don't think I could handle it if _another_ person looked at me like I had lost my mind.'

'Is it that bad?'

Taylor sighed. 'Sometimes.'

Adam gave her another look. 'You coming back in?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Mac will kill me if I'm unescorted.'

'I'll escort you,' Adam told her.

'You'd do that?' she asked him, amazed.

Adam nodded. 'Mac clearly doesn't see it, and I don't know how you do it, but things get done quicker. That and you clearly don't publish anything you shouldn't.'

Taylor gave him a grateful smile as she resisted the urge to leap on him and hug him.

--

Instead of heading back upstairs with Adam, Taylor decided that the best thing she should do was not. Adam had already been shouted at, and the last thing Taylor wanted to do was have him at the receiving end of Mac's anger again. So she found herself braving the whipping wind again. Until she decided to head to the parking garage and wait there.

She was pacing between Mac's company Avalanche and Flack's company Buick when they both appeared with Stella. Suddenly feeling scared, Taylor ducked down behind Flack's car and snuck in as soon as he had seated himself.

'Argh!' Flack yelped.

'Shhhh,' Taylor shushed him. 'I'm coming with you.'

'And you _had_ to sneak into my car to accomplish that?' Flack asked her.

Taylor nodded. 'Probably for the best.'

'Tay, what is going on?'

'I told you,' Taylor sighed. 'I seem to be reliving yesterday… today. And the last today I had didn't turn out so good. I'm not going in. I'll wait outside. You just have to promise me that you won't let Mac go up any stairs.'

Flack gave her a searching stare before nodding. He quickly slipped the car into reverse and peeled out of the garage to catch up with Mac and Stella.

It didn't take them long to arrive at their destination – the Weddington Hotel. 'I'm staying here,' Taylor told Flack as soon as they had pulled over and he had sent another worried stare in her direction.

It took every ounce of will power Taylor had not to follow into the building, and to instead wait outside. But she did. Even when the paramedics arrived. 'Tell me it's not an officer,' she asked Doc as he unloaded the stretcher.

He shook his head. 'They found a woman. I don't know much more than that,' he apologized.

Taylor let out a sigh of relief and leant back against Flack's car. Minutes later, Mac ran out of the doors.

Taylor charged off after Mac before Stella and Flack had even realized what was happening. She could hear Flack shout after her as she leapt into the backseat of Mac's car, but ignored him, only just slamming the door shut as Mac squealed off.

'What are you doing, Taylor?' Mac barked at her as he weaved in and out of the traffic.

'Trying to stop you from doing something stupid,' she told him, holding onto the headrest as they squealed around a corner.

'I should stop this car right now and have you arrested.'

'Do that!' Taylor told him, actually hoping he would.

He did the opposite and put his foot down.

'I really think arresting me would be a better option!' Taylor shouted as they pulled up outside another building.

'Stay here!' Mac ordered as the two of them leapt out of the car.

'Not likely,' Taylor muttered. And then in a movement so quick it left no doubt in Taylor's mind that the ex-marine still had it in him, Taylor's wrist was handcuffed to the door handle of the building. 'What?!' she exclaimed as Mac looked at her.

'Stay here,' he repeated.

'And what are you going to use to handcuff Dobson?' she yelled as he took off into the building. Taylor began yanking at the cuffs before slumping back against the door in defeat. Suddenly, she stood upright. 'Maddy?'

'I can't let you go,' Maddy told her as she appeared.

Taylor shook her head. 'No, I need you to go up there and keep an eye on Mac. I need to know if he listened to anything I said. Please!' Maddy stared at her and nodded before disappearing. Taylor returned her attention to trying to pull the cuffs off her wrists as the distant sirens grew closer. 'Don!' Taylor cried as his car squealed to a halt and he leapt from it.

'Taylor?' he questioned, hurrying over and pulling his key out.

'Mac took off upstairs,' Taylor told him in a panic.

'Two of you go around the front, mark off the street,' Flack turned to the two uniformed officers who were with him.

'We have to-' Taylor screamed as she was cut off by a body slamming onto the roof of Mac's car. She, Flack, and a few other officers looked upwards to find Mac peering over the edge of the building. Taylor turned to Flack, her mouth hanging open in shock.

'He's cuffed!' one of the officers cried.

--

Taylor was leaning morosely against the wall, sat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the busy precinct reception.

'Miss Turner.'

Taylor snapped her eyes up and stared at Sgt. Flack. 'Are you kidding me?' she asked wearily.

'Mac Taylor pushes a suspect off a building and you're surprised that IAB is investigating?'

'No,' Taylor retorted as she rose to her feet. 'I'm surprised that someone who is out for Mac's blood is investigating.'

'You want to make a move to the interview room? I'm sure you know where it is by now.'

Taylor inhaled sharply. 'No.'

Sgt. Flack's eyes narrowed. 'No?'

'No,' Taylor agreed.

'Do you _want_ me to arrest you again?'

Taylor shook her head. 'No. I want you to find another officer to interview me. Which I believe is one of my rights.' She smiled smugly. 'I think there might be too much conflict of interest here.'

The creases in Sgt. Flack's forehead deepened but he left. Taylor sighed, her legs feeling like jelly as she sank back into the chair.

'He didn't do it.'

Taylor's head whipped around. 'Really?'

Maddy nodded. 'The guy jumped. He didn't want to go back to prison, and he figured he would bring Mac down with him.'

'Oh thank God,' Taylor muttered as she leant her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

--

'You done?' Flack asked her wearily.

Taylor exited the interview room and walked over. 'Can we go to bed now?'

Flack nodded and wrapped his arm over her shoulder as he led her outside to his car. 'How did it go?'

Taylor sighed. 'Well, once I'd managed to convince the officer that the reason the cuffs were on me were because I was playing around with them, and then that the reason I was there was complete coincidence, I don't think it went too badly.'

'You managed to convince IAB of that?' Flack asked her in disbelief.

Taylor shrugged. 'Probably not, but that's my story and I'm sticking to it. When they realized I wasn't near the roof, they lost interest anyway.' She sighed. 'I'm going to hell. Or jail. Or both.'

Flack laughed. 'Let's pull out the violins.'

Taylor returned a smile. 'Alright, so a little melodramatic, I know.'

They arrived home and headed in. Which was when Marty pounced on them. 'And what time do you call this?' he demanded.

Taylor glanced past him at the clock and winced. 'Six am?'

'Yeah, six am,' Marty snapped. 'Not only have I been waiting all night, worried about where you were, the dinner is spoilt and you owe me babysitting money.'

Flack coughed to cover up a laugh. 'Sorry, mom,'

'I'm not mad at you,' Marty told him. 'You were on call. You, on the other hand,' he turned to face Taylor. 'You were supposed to be learning, and you certainly weren't working. And don't you dare give me a ghost as an excuse.'

'Can we move this discussion into the living room?' Taylor asked. 'Before we wake Cordelia up?'

'So now you're concerned about Cordelia?' Marty sniped.

'That's not fair, Marty,' Taylor retorted, storming out of the hallway and into the living room.

Marty followed her in and sighed. 'You're right, it's not. But that doesn't explain why you ran out on me.'

'No, it doesn't,' Taylor agreed as she settled wearily onto the couch and then proceeded to explain everything.

* * *

_I just wanted to say a HUGE thanks to everyone who is reviewing. I'm having a bit of a stressfull time at the minute (I no longer like the job I used to, as well as the one I never did, and I have unwelcome housemate issues - one who isn't paying his way or doing any form of housework. I just wanted y'all to know that your reviews keep me going with this story (and bring a smile to face to boot!))_

_So again, Thank You!!_


	194. And when we're together there's nothing

_Devil-may-care101 - Hey! I'm glad you're enjoying my epic baby! I want Mac to believe her too, but it doesn't feel right, just yet. My stress levels aren't set to go down workwise, and they certainly aren't about to get to get any better whilst I adopt the "ostrich" approach to things! But thank you!_

_Trizzy - How did your overnighter go? I would very much like to see Marty reappear. And I can't even remember why Chad left - it would be fun if he could come back and meet Adam!_

_Laplandgurl - Now why do I get the feeling you would like to be handcuffed to by Mac. Well, although the housemares are annoying, I think you win that - how on earth did you stay sane? I certainly would have lost it, and I can't blame you for deciding to never have them again!!_

_sparkyCSI - Ah, because Mac is a marine, he's always prepared... and as such, carries a spare set!! (:D)_

_Evaflack001 - Marty got left to be domesticated! I would be grumpy too (although, I don't sleep much anymore and I'm always grumpy because of that, so that makes no difference...!) RL can be a pain, but at least it's not boring - I can finally say that much, and I never thought I would!_

_RK9 - Woohoo, coooookie! And I bet Fae is now 10 months, right? I was only teasing you - but I am very glad you're still around!_

_Alana Xavier01 - lol, I think with my current temper levels, I would have kicked some ass too! Yeah, they're a pain!_

_demolished-soul - she's not going to be relieving the day again, because, if nothing else, I would probably confuse myself too much! And I threatened to move out myself - they cleaned up. Impressive!_

_meadow567 - thank you. And how's that fic going??_

_Let's see, there aren't any spoliers... it's a bit of a short, light chapter, to be honest! But I still have massive thanks to my brilliant beta, sparky!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 193: And when we're together there's nothing that we can't do**

'You never did explain how you knew about the wedding,' Lindsay asked Taylor as they rode the subway.

'Or how you knew about the baby,' Stella added.

'Trust me guys, you really don't want to know,' Taylor told them. 'I don't really know,' she muttered to her reflection. After "that" day, she had demanded both Maddy and Aiden's presence and insisted they tell her exactly what had happened. Only they didn't seem to know themselves. They had even brought Eirik in for a consultation and he couldn't give her an answer either. Putting it down to bad sushi, not enough sleep, or a combination of both, Taylor had just been thankful that Mac hadn't killed anyone. As it was, he was still caught up in the political scandal that had followed once the papers had gotten a hold of the story. 'Have you thought about colors?' she asked.

Lindsay nodded. 'Green and yellow.'

'And you're sure you want to go to Montana for this?' Taylor asked her, a slight edginess to her voice.

Lindsay smiled. 'Yeah. I want to do it properly this time – have all my friends and family there.'

'Cheer up, Tay,' Stella smiled at her. 'There will be a lot of us on a plane to keep you grounded.'

'Can we just go for the _grounded_ route?'

Lindsay laughed. 'It's only a few hours.'

'I've done it before,' Taylor reminded her. 'And it was a little longer than a few hours.'

'You could always drive.'

'Drive what?' Taylor asked. 'I don't have a car.'

'How does a rental sound?' Stella pointed out as they reached their stop.

'Expensive,' Taylor sighed. 'And long. I know I'm complaining, but I wouldn't miss this for the world,' she told Lindsay.

'I know,' Lindsay told her, patting her shoulder. 'Come on. You have to see these dresses. I spotted them ages ago.'

'Just how long have you been looking at wedding dresses for?' Taylor asked her curiously.

Lindsay shook her head. 'I was window shopping and found this place. It had the prettiest dress in the window.' She stopped and pointed up at a window.

Stella and Taylor both looked up at the window and gasped. It was a sophisticated and modern looking dress in white. It came down to the claves on the mannequin and had embroidered halter neck straps. There was a rhinestone broach accenting the ruche bust detail and the empire waistline.

'That's really pretty,' Taylor told her.

'And totally you,' Stella agreed.

Lindsay beamed. 'And now I need to try it on. And show you the bridesmaid dresses.'

'You've found them too?' Taylor asked, shooting a slightly worried glance at Stella as she followed Lindsay into the store. Taylor was about to follow when she frowned. The hairs on the back of her neck were prickling.

'Are you alright?' Stella asked her, sticking her head back out of the door.

Taylor looked around before nodding. 'Yeah,' she muttered, following Stella into the store.

'Welcome ladies,' the store attendant greeted them. 'And how can I help you today?'

'It's alright, Rose,' another attendant hurried over. 'Welcome back, Lindsay. Are these your two bridesmaids?'

Lindsay shook her head. 'Taylor's one of them.'

'I just came for the show,' Stella beamed.

'My sister is the other, but she's back in Montana.'

'Ah,' the store clerk smiled. 'That's who you're having the dress design sent to?'

Lindsay nodded. 'She's not a good flyer, Michaela.'

'Well, I suppose you will want to see your dress?' Michaela asked Taylor.

Taylor forced a smile and nodded. The woman disappeared into the back and reappeared with a monstrosity that would have been right at home in _27 Dresses._ It was long, ruffled, striped, and covered in fabric flowers. 'That's um… nice?' Taylor squeaked.

Lindsay nodded. 'And Michaela tells me that you can have it shortened so that you can wear it again.'

Taylor's forced the grimace on her face into a smile. Just. 'Yeah,' she agreed.

Lindsay burst out laughing. 'Your face is a picture. Do you really think I'd have picked something like that?' she asked as both Stella and Michaela joined in the laughing.

'I thought you were going to make her try it on?' Michaela asked.

Taylor shot Lindsay a glare. 'This was planned?'

'Of course,' Lindsay laughed.

'A lady came in and had this especially made, but when the wedding was called off, she handed it back and said we could try to sell it,' Michaela explained.

'Clearly it's not going anywhere,' Taylor muttered dryly.

'I'll go get the real one,' Michaela smiled, heading back into the back. She re-emerged with the real one. This one was long – longer than Lindsay's wedding dress. It had spaghetti straps which criss-crossed over the back, and like Lindsay's, it had a ruche bust. It was also green.

'I like that one,' Taylor told her, fingering the material.

'Good,' Michaela told her. 'Let's get you both measured up then.

--

It took a while longer than expected, but as Michaela was supplying them with wine (and orange juice for Stella) it wasn't so bad. After telling Lindsay she would call her when the dresses were ready for their first fittings, the three women left.

'I'm going to bail on you guys,' Lindsay announced. 'I'm headed to Danny's now, and it makes no sense to head back the way I came only to come back this way.'

'Fair enough,' Taylor shrugged as Lindsay disappeared into the crowds. She watched Lindsay go and then frowned. The feeling of being watched was back.

'Taylor, you alright?' Stella asked her.

Taylor looked at Stella. 'Yeah, but I have the strangest feeling. Like someone is following me.'

'You have that too?'

Taylor's expression turned to one of surprise. 'Yeah. Why? Do you feel like you're being followed?'

Stella nodded. 'Felt like it for a while now.'

Taylor frowned. 'I have it on and off, but it turns out a ghost isn't far behind. It just feels different today.'

Stella shrugged. 'Well I guess it's me that's being followed.'

'Without sounding accusatory, it's not Keanu, is it? You know, like he's trying to get back with you, but doesn't have the courage to do so?'

'I don't think so,' Stella told her, shaking her head. 'It's not his style anyway.'

'Maybe you should tell Mac,' Taylor suggested.

'I wasn't going to,' Stella told her. 'I was convinced it was all in my head. But now you can feel it too, I think I might. I'll give him a call and see if he's free.' She pulled out her phone and quickly spoke to Mac. 'He's going to meet me at one of the bars near mine as soon as he gets off work.'

'You want some company?' Taylor offered.

Stella flashed her a grateful smile. 'Sure.'

--

_Taylor looked around. The air smelt damp and of old fish, and it was cold in the warehouse. It was quiet too. The only noise she could hear was her own breathing and that sounded deafening. She glanced back behind her; certain she was being followed, and tripped on the metal rung of the suspended walkway she was creeping along. The piece of metal she kicked went flying over the edge, but instead of landing with a crash, it landed with a splash._

_Taylor looked down, clutching tightly onto the rusting railing, at the black abyss below. She wasn't entirely sure where she was, but it wasn't good. And neither was being so high up. She took a deep breath and carried on in the direction she was heading, still feeling like she was being followed._

_In front of her, the walkway widened as it reached a door. To the left, where the walkway was the widest, were a couple of drums. Taylor barely had time to process the items as door burst open in front of her and Flack came dashing out of it, his gun drawn, aimed at something behind her._

'_Taylor!' he yelled, his voice sounding like he was shouting in slow motion._

_Taylor turned, fixed to the spot, and then it was like she herself was also moving in slow motion. Halfway down the walkway was a man – the man, she knew, she had been trying to get away from – also with a gun and it was pointing right at them. There were several loud bangs as both Flack and the other man opened fire upon each other and then Taylor was pushed out of the way behind the drums._

_Taylor whirled around in time to see Aiden vanishing, and also in time to see Flack get hit twice in the chest as the gunshots stopped. Still moving in slow motion, Taylor scrambled to her feet as Flack, moving at normal speed, dropped him gun and looked down at the crimson blood which was soaking his shirt._

_Just as Taylor was almost in reach, he looked up at her before stumbling back and hitting the railing behind him._

'_DON!" Taylor screamed as he went careering through the railing and into the black abyss behind him._

_As he disappeared from sight, the invisible glue which Taylor had been trying to battle through disappeared and she skidded to her knees staring over the side. 'Don!' She screamed again as his body hit the water below. 'DON!"_

'TAYLOR!' Marty cried, shaking her shoulders.

Taylor awoke mid-scream, clutching at her sheets in an upright position, sweat streaming down her face.

'Taylor?'

With a sob, Taylor turned and launched herself at her roommate, who wrapped his arms around her and began stroking her hair.

'Same dream?' he asked her a while later.

Taylor nodded. 'Yeah.'

'Perhaps you should tell him.'

'It's just a dream, Marty.'

'It's the same dream you've been having for months.'

'It's hardly prophetic, is it? It probably means something stupid. I mean, look at what's been going off in my life recently.'

'That's not the point, Taylor,' Marty told her softly. 'He should know. And you know he should.'

'What are you doing up so early?' Taylor asked him, avoiding the statement.

'Your screams might have had something to do with that,' Marty suggested.

Taylor looked down at him. 'You're telling me that I woke you up, and before you came in to check on me, you decided to get dressed, sneakers and all?'

Marty rolled his eyes. 'I have a plane to catch. Remember?'

'Oh yeah,' Taylor mouthed at him.

'Me and Cordy were gonna come in and wake you up soon anyway.'

Taylor pulled a face. 'I promised her a morning off school so that we could see you off, didn't I?'

Marty nodded. 'I can't help it if the squirt has grown attached to me.'

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Just remember, she's seven, Marty.'

'Nice,' Marty muttered.

* * *

_It's alright - I know I suck. And I'm going to hell anyway (and that's a very long story which doesn't particuarly paint me in a good light!). It's also coming to Freshers Week again, so if I thought my 60/70 hour weeks were long, I've got triple figures to look forward to soon - but it's all good because it's fun, fun, fun (and that's a sincere comment). Anyhoos, tomorrow, uf I can find a bit of time in between sending confirmation letters to Freshers, fix the karaoke machine, create the 'what's on' board, process ticket purchases, reply to the emails, and whatever else I have to do, I shall try to post another chapter for y'all because you're brilliant and put up with me posting s__poradically!!_


	195. I can hear the angels calling for me

_Trizzy - nah, I couldn't do that to him again... or could I?! And I quite like the idea of Chad coming back. Maybe he can replace Kendall (can't make up my mind about her!) Okay, that sounds like the coolest balloon!!_

_sparkyCSI - A week? I still haven't read, lord knows how much!! - so don't feel guilty. I haven't seen Lexi or my muses for a while, but I think I've scared them off with the work schedule - I'm not sure they know when it's safe to come out. And the best bit is that I have no idea what I explained because I have lost my mind!_

_Bmangaka - another new reader - Hi'ya! Okay, the chavs will do it - I shall run and hide between the bouncers I work with! I hope this will appease you!_

_demolished-soul - I think I spoke too soon on the housemate front, as it looks like he's sticking around for a few more months yet. And I'd answer your questions, but that would be telling too much!_

_RK9 - You did tell me - has it really been that long?! Man, I need to work less. Sounds like you had an epic afternoon - I hope you've not had a repeat soon. And by all means, vent as much as you like!! (Yeah, it was kinda short, but the next few are nice and long!)_

_meadow567 - All will be revealed soon... or as soon as they can with my sporadic updating. Any luck in the days I've been gone?!_

_Devil-may-care101 - I really can't wait for the wedding (I have bits written all over the place and it seems like it's taking ages to get to use them!) And _if_ I was to kill Flack, at least he would remain that pretty for... ever!_

_Big thanks to Sparky - not only for being a very patient beta, but for also lending me Cory!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 194: I can hear the angels calling for me**

Taylor was helping Cordelia with her English homework when a knock at the door disturbed them. Leaving Cordelia to memorise the spelling of the words she'd been set, Taylor headed for the door. 'Sasha?' she greeted the woman who breezed into the house past her.

'Hey Taylor.'

'What are you doing here?'

'It's nice to see you too,' Sasha returned. 'I'm here to give you this. And I've already RSVP'd.'

Taylor took the opened envelope out of her hands and eyed it suspiciously, before pulling an invitation out. She sighed as she read it. 'Sash-'

'You didn't think I would seriously leave you the responsibility of returning that, do you?' Sasha asked her, pulling the invitation out of her hands. 'And I need company.'

'Sasha – I'

'It's my birthday party!' Sasha told her.

Taylor laughed. 'I would have said yes, you know.'

'And I expect to see that detective fiancé of yours there too.'

'That one I can't promise,' Taylor told her. 'He's on nights that week.'

Sasha shrugged. 'Good enough excuse. Gary will fix you up with an outfit.'

'I'm sure that I can find something in m closet.'

'You didn't read that invitation properly did you?' Sasha asked her as she headed for the door. 'And you've already RSVP'd so there's no backing out now. Catch ya later,' she cried, shutting the door behind her.

Taylor looked back down at the invitation and groaned. 'Fancy dress? Rock star fancy dress?' She returned to the kitchen and glanced down over Cordelia's shoulder at the homework. Flack was right; the child was going to beat her at Scrabble, and it looked like it was going to be sooner, rather than later. 'Come on, kiddo, time for school.'

After dropping Cordelia off (on time, for once), Taylor headed into the office. She was barely seated for a half hour before Gary came bustling in. 'Taylor Turner!' he exclaimed, wrapping her in a hug.

'Hi Gary,' Taylor returned, slightly less enthusiastically.

'And where have you been recently?' he asked her, hands on his hips.

Taylor arched an eyebrow at him, pulling the top drawer of her desk open, and throwing a couple of old editions of the _NYC Star_, the tabloid rag, on her desk. Even from her side of the desk, Taylor could clearly read the headlines: Daily Reporter Arrested for Arson, Turner Time Bomb, _Crime Files_ Writer Gets Criminal Record. There were more besides.

'And so you were taking the chicken route and hiding?' Gary accused her.

'Gary, that's _why_ I've not been in here. I haven't had the time to do anything else.'

'Well I hope you have your party shoes on – I have the perfect outfit for you,' he grinned. 'And I hope that Detective fiancé will let me dress him too.'

Taylor smirked. 'I'm sure you do, however, he is working the night shift, so that won't be happening.'

'Fine,' Gary pouted. 'In which case, I want you in my office at four on Saturday, and then we can get you dressed. I have the cutest idea.'

'I want to be wearing clothes, Gary!' Taylor shouted after him. She sighed and reached over to pick up the papers before thrusting them back into the drawer, the motion sending pens flying. Rolling her eyes at the mess, she slipped to her knees and was under the desk picking them up when there was another knock at the door, causing Taylor to start, knock her head, and curse very loudly.

'Are you alright?' a concerned southern accent called.

Taylor climbed out from under her desk, rubbing her head with one hand and clutching the pens in the other. 'Oh, hello?' she greeted the auburn haired woman.

'Hi,' Cory smiley awkwardly. 'You don't remember me, do you?' she asked at Taylor's slight frown.

'You're the woman from Lone Star,' Taylor responded, wriggling her nose slightly.

Cory sighed, glancing at the ceiling. 'Corrine Reid.'

'I'd introduce myself, but you clearly know who I am...' she trailed off, her eyes narrowing. 'Supervisory Special Agent _Cory_ Reid?' she demanded, her tone accusatory.

'It's just Special Agent now,' Cory admitted.

Taylor smiled at her. 'Nice to meet you. There's the door. I know you're familiar with it already.'

'Look, I'm not here to cause trouble,' Cory started.

'No, you did that already,' Taylor snapped at her.

'I was doing my job,' Cory snapped back. 'And I'm sorry, but you really shouldn't be wandering around crime labs like you do.'

'Well,' Taylor responded, haughtily, 'it will please you know I am no longer allowed in the lab.'

'You shouldn't be wandering around in there like you do!' Cory retorted.

Taylor's eyes narrowed. 'Did you come here for a reason? Because this is _my_ office, and the only person who's going to get banned from it is you.'

Cory, whose fists were tightly clenched, exhaled softly. 'I didn't come here to fight with you.'

'Then what did you come here for?' Taylor demanded, leaning back into her chair and glaring at the FBI agent.

'I need your help,' Cory admitted.

'This is a joke, right?' Taylor asked her, eyeing her suspiciously.

Cory shook her head, a few stray strands of hair falling out of the bun it was swept up into. 'Felix Bohr.'

Taylor blinked. 'If that's the punch line, I really don't get it.'

Cory sighed, walking over to the desk, her hand slipping into her leather briefcase and pulling out a manila folder. She handed it over. 'That's Felix Bohr. Or Antony Carlisle as you may know him.'

Taylor glared at Cory before pulling the photograph over and looking down at it. 'Not a clue,' she told her, pushing the photograph back at Cory and resuming glaring.

'Well, he clearly knows you.'

'He doesn't,' Taylor snapped. 'And I'm beginning to see why this agent went rogue on you,' she added cruelly.

Cory shut her eyes, inhaling deeply before she opened them again. 'I need your help,' she repeated. 'And I just hope you will agree to it before he does something you're going to regret.'

'If you think you can blame his actions on me, you can think again,' Taylor cried, jumping to her feet. 'For the record; you've really outstayed your welcome now.'

Cory picked up the folder, replacing it with a business card. 'If you change your mind, that's my number.'

Taylor watched her leave, before glancing down at the card. With a scowl, she ripped it up, flinging the pieces haphazardly at the trash can.

--

Flack pushed open the door with a sigh and trudged into the living room. All he had been doing, all day long, was chasing down suspects who _insisted _on trying to run away from him. He stopped in the doorway when he spotted Taylor stretched out on the couch, Cordy lying in her arms as sound asleep as she was, the television still playing _High School Musical._

With a small smile, he padded over, suddenly forgetting about his day and pulled out his cell phone and snapping a quick picture. With the phone then back safely in his pocket, he grabbed Cordelia in his arms, gently so as not to disturb either of them, and carried the sleeping child up to her bed. The smile grew as he tucked her up in Taylor's latest purchase – _High School Musical _bed sheets. He stood in that room for a few minutes, watching her sleep before flicking off the light and heading downstairs.

Once again, he found himself standing in the doorway, watching the rise and fall of Taylor's chest. Unwilling to wake her – he was well aware of how little she had been sleeping – he perched down on the arm.

'How long have you been there?' Taylor asked him breathily as she woke up.

'Not long,' he assured her, giving her a small smile. 'I'm sorry I woke you,' he added, lifting her feet and sliding onto the couch underneath her.

'How was your day?' she asked, poking him playfully with her foot.

'I spent the day chasing after suspects,' he growled.

'Ah, my poor baby,' Taylor pouted at him as she righted herself and slid in behind him.

'What are you do-ahhh,' Flack sighed as she began to massage her shoulders. 'That feels good,' he murmured. 'How was your day?'

Taylor sighed. 'Sasha has invited us to a party.'

'And that's giving you reason to sigh?'

Taylor paused. 'It's fancy dress. And it's alright for you because I know you're working.'

Flack laughed. 'Ah, and I was looking forward to dressing up as a fireman.'

Taylor burst out laughing. 'It's rock 'n' roll themed. Although I guess you'd fit in nicely as one of the Village People,' she snorted.

Flack snapped around and pulled her out from behind him before pinning her to the couch. 'I beg your pardon?' he asked in mock outrage.

Taylor blinked innocently. 'Well you did the cowboy. And you're the police officer every day,' she shrugged.

'I'm a _detective_,' he growled at her.

'I didn't think the detectives did the running?' she continued, although losing the "innocence" to her tone as she struggled to keep a straight face.

'Oh, you've asked for it,' Flack cried as his mouth headed for her collar bone.

Taylor sighed loudly.

Flack stopped and pulled back slightly to look at her. 'Okay, that wasn't the kind of sigh I was after. What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' Taylor told him.

Nothing?' Flack repeated, arching an eyebrow. 'I'm expecting a very different kind of sigh, and you tell me nothing's wrong? What are you thinking about?'

'Nothing,' Taylor tried again, before letting out another sigh. 'That FBI agent; Cory.'

Flack sat upright, still straddling her, and cocked his head. 'You're thinking about another... _woman_?'

Taylor nodded, glumly. 'She came to see me in my office.'

'Why?' he asked, his blue eyes darkening.

'She seems to think I hold the answer to life's mystery.'

'You know the meaning of life?'

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Apparently I may have some information as to her rogue agent's whereabouts. I told her to get out of my office.' She frowned at Flack's silence. 'What?'

'Maybe you should help her.'

'What?' Taylor asked, incredulously. 'You want me to get involved with this?'

'Yes and no,' Flack admitted. 'So long as you stay behind a desk.'

Taylor blinked, then cocked her head, poking at Flack.

'What are you doing?' he asked her.

'Who are you, and what have you done with my fiancé?'

'Agent Reid may have a point. At least hear her out.'

Taylor narrowed her eyes. 'I did.'

'You did?' Flack repeated, eyebrow arched.

'Gah!' Taylor grunted in frustration before sticking her tongue out. 'Fine. I didn't listen. But that still doesn't mean I want to help her.'

'I'm not going to force you to-'

'What, like you're not forcing me to see a shrink?' Taylor asked, cocking her head at him.

Flack shifted, clearing his throat.

'I don't like that look,' Taylor muttered.

Flack sighed. 'I guess now is as good a time to tell you.'

'What?' Taylor asked suspiciously.

'I made you an appointment.'

'With who?'

'Augusta Broussard.'

Taylor frowned. 'And who's she, when she's at home?'

'A therapist.'

'A therapist?' Taylor repeated as the implication slowly dawned on her. 'The departmental shrink?'

'Look, just go see her once, and I promise I won't push it anymore,' Flack begged her. 'I'll even go with you, if you want?'

'Fine,' Taylor relented. 'But if she makes me sing, I'm pushing her out of the window.'

'Thank you,' Flack told her, sincerely, before leaning in to kiss her. He pulled away, taking in her thoughtful expression. 'Alright, what are you thinking about now?'

'Fish.'

Flack blinked. 'Fish? Maybe making that appointment was a good thing.'

Taylor pulled a face, swiping at him. 'Fish,' she said, pointing at the empty fish tank in the corner of the room. 'We need fish in that.'

'Can we turn the attention away from the non-existent fish, and to the guy straddling you?'

Taylor grinned evilly. 'Well maybe you should keep my attention,' she shrugged.

'Oh, that can be arranged.'

* * *

_Wow, I am exhausted! Fresher's Week hit and in eight days I have worked over 140 hours with far too many 4am finishes and 8.30am starts! _

_As thanks for the patience, I'm posting two chapters for y'all, so I hope you enjoy!_


	196. Do you take the nonbelievers?

_As promised, a second chapter. I'm sure y'all will agree that Taylor probably needs to see a professional... Well I'm sending her to see Gus. A lot of you will probably recognise her from Madison Bellows' stories, and if not, go check them out!_

_But the thanks for this chapter not only go to sparky for the beta, but also to Maddy for lending me Gus AND being a HUGE help with this chapter - thanks girls!!_

**

* * *

**

What The Eyes Can't See

**Chapter 195: Do you take the non-believers?**

Outside, the late November weather was lashing against the large window that took up almost the entirety of a wall. The view, despite the weather, was impressive. Taylor was slightly impressed – clearly the shrink was successful – one would have to be to afford that view. Although it did lend to the idea that it was also a part-time private practice. Either that, or she had a bit of money in her back pocket.

'Departmental shrink,' Taylor muttered to herself as she sat in the waiting room. 'I'm not even a cop.'

'Taylor,' Flack muttered in a low tone.

'I'm still here, aren't I?'

Flack shrugged. 'For now. Although I'm trying to work out how long it's going to be before you throw yourself out of the window.'

'Detective Turner?'

Taylor looked up at the blonde woman who was looking straight at her. 'I'm not a cop,' Taylor told her.

'Oh, I see,' the blonde said slowly, a familiar sounding drawl to voice.

'So, I guess if that's a problem?' Taylor said, gathering her things and rising.

'Taylor,' Flack muttered again, grabbing at her hand.

'Not at all,' the blonde told her. 'I'll take all types. And you'd be surprised how many spouses make their way to my couch.' The blonde took a step back and held the door open, whilst throwing a warm smile at Flack.

Taylor stood there, weighing the woman up. It was clear what she was doing, but the shrink didn't back down. That made somewhat of a positive impression because Taylor sighed and followed her into the room, Flack at her heels.

That was as far as it went. Taylor walked in and sat down on the edge of the seat, arms folded tightly as she continued to stare at the blonde. 'Stop being so defensive,' Flack hissed at her. 'It's rude.'

'She's a shrink, Don. How many other loonies do you think have crossed her couch?'

'Broussard.'

'Huh?' Taylor blinked.

'Dr. Broussard,' the blonde continued. 'You can call me Gus,' she added, before sitting down and promptly knocking a pile of papers off the table next to her and all over the floor, causing her to curse loudly.

Taylor watched as Gus busied herself with picking the papers up and settling them back on the side in a somewhat haphazard fashion. 'Hand-eye coordination was never my strong point,' Gus shrugged, settling back into the chair.

'So what song are you going to make me sing?' Taylor asked her.

'Song?' Gus questioned, slightly puzzled.

'Yeah, an icebreaker or whatever?' Taylor offered shrugging indifferently.

'Taylor!' Flack hissed.

'I'm sorry?' asked Gus, still slightly puzzled.

Taylor shook her head. 'Never mind.'

'Sorry,' Flack mouthed at her.

Gus ran her tongue over her lip. 'Well, Taylor, what brings you in today?'

Taylor shrugged. 'Him?' she offered, pointing at Flack. 'Condition of marriage?'

'Interesting condition,' Gus responded in a tone that indicated she was far from mocking. 'Is that a New York form of dowry? I guess it's hard to keep goats and chickens in the city,' she added thoughtfully.

'My fiancé thinks I need to talk to a shrink,' she told her as she sent a somewhat sarcastic smile in Flack's direction.

'And why does he think that?'

'Yeah,' Flack nodded. 'Why _do_ I think that?'

Taylor glared at Flack. 'Other than the fact I'm marrying _you_?'

'She can be a bit of a smart mouth when she wants to be,' Flack informed Gus.

'Hi pot, I'm kettle,' Taylor snapped back at him, holding her hand out.

Gus cleared her throat. 'Is this couple's counseling? Because I was under the impression you were having a difficulty dealing with something. Other than marriage.'

'I'm sorry,' Taylor sighed. 'It's not him.'

'She's a little defensive,' Flack added.

Taylor stared at the therapist. 'I see dead people.'

Gus nodded. 'A lot of officers deal with death. Sadly, it's something that comes with the territory.'

'Yeah,' Taylor agreed. 'But I'm not a cop. And the dead people – they're not quite so dead. They're ghosts. And they haunt me, pestering me with some inane clue until I can help the CSIs solve their murder.' Taylor stared at the blonde, almost daring her to make some comment about loonies and mental asylums.

'A bit more complicated than just seeing a DB at a scene then, huh?' Gus replied, taking a long swig of coffee.

Taylor studied the woman for a long beat, trying to figure out if she was being made fun of. 'You could say that,' she answered finally.

Gus let silence sit between them for a moment, and then realizing continued. 'I take it they interfere with your daily functioning then, the ghosts?'

'Don't sit there and just humor me. Go ahead, call the people with the straitjackets or whatever you have to do, but I am not going to just let you sit there and make fun of me!' Taylor started to rise out of her seat and gather up her things.

Gus held up her palms in surrender. 'I'm not humoring you,' she told the journalist before Flack could tell her to sit back down and stop being rude. 'I swear. I'm not here to judge you or your problems; lord knows that _would_ be the pot calling the kettle black. And the last thing I will ever do to any of my clients is make fun of them. Day I start that you can rip up my license and throw it in the East River'.

Taylor sat back down, not sure what to make of the whole situation. 'You don't think I'm crazy?'

Gus burst out in hearty laughter, 'Sugar, it would take a whole lot more than a couple of ghosts for me to call anyone crazy. Besides, I don't have the right credentials to be calling anyone officially crazy. I am a psychologist not a psychiatrist. If I wanted to be a pill pusher, I sure as hell wouldn't have come to the city were my uncle is head of the crime lab to be a dealer. Much better money back home in New Orleans for that, less cops too'.

Taylor bit her lip. 'So you don't think I need to be locked up with the key thrown away?' she asked in a small voice.

'I can't make a full assessment on anything right this second, but not for seeing ghosts, no. Why don't you tell me a little bit more about how long you have been seeing them and how they have turned you into a hot mess?' Gus leaned back in her chair, her posture and demeanor relaxed.

Taylor eyed the woman for several minutes, receiving only a patient smile in return. 'Nearly two years,' she sighed, sitting heavily back into the chair as the realization hit her. 'Twenty two months. Nearly twenty three,' she added as an afterthought, watching Gus' pen twitch across the pad she was writing on. 'Her name was Rebecca Landry, a kid. And the woman who killed her thought she was sleeping with the same teacher she thought she was.' She glanced down at her hands, almost too scared to look up and meet Gus' eyes.

'I take it there's a little more to it than that?'

'They come to me how they died,' Taylor admitted. 'And only a handful of them have ever looked like they died peacefully in their sleep. And the sight of them used to make me throw up all the time, but now… it's like I'm becoming immune to it – it's only if they're really messed up that it can turn my stomach. And that scares me,' she finished quietly as Flack slipped his hand around hers and gave it a small squeeze.

Gus, who had been chewing thoughtfully on her Biro, cocked her head at her. 'Why?'

Flack glanced down at Taylor and sighed inwardly. He looked down at her and gave her a reassuring smile and rose to his feet. 'I'll wait for you outside,' he told her, placing a kiss on her forehead and walking out.

Taylor watched him go before averting her attention to the various certificates on Gus' walls. 'It bothers him,' she muttered.

'The ghosts?' Gus asked.

Taylor slowly shook her head. 'That I don't share with him. That I keep holding back.'

Gus frowned thoughtfully. 'What is it you hold back from him?' she asked as she settled herself into a more comfortable position.

'The details, I guess,' Taylor responded after a moment's thought. 'He gets enough that it will help with the case, but I don't tell him anything else. Like, I will tell him what I see, and what they tell me, but I just can't tell him…'

'What?' Gus pressed gently.

Taylor raked a hand through her hair and slumped back against the couch back. 'How I feel, I guess.'

Gus looked at the woman who was now nervously wringing her hands in her lap. 'And how do you feel?'

'Confused,' Taylor shrugged. 'Worried. Scared… Guilty,' she muttered. 'I'll be doing fine, and then They do something to disrupt the rhythm I've fallen into.'

'They?'

'The Powers That Be,' Taylor told her with a wry smile. 'Apparently it's like a corporate system. Whatever that means? They can't ever explain things to me. I don't even know why they picked me. I'm sure they'd have an easier time of it if They had chosen a CSI or a detective – someone who is actually allowed to wander around a crime lab.'

'I sense that hasn't stopped you?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Not really. I worked out pretty quickly which of the CSIs believed me, and others, no matter how hard I try and prove to them, they can't get past the science. And I do get that,' she added quickly, raising her eyes to meet Gus' green ones. 'I really do. Hell, I wouldn't believe any of this if it wasn't for the fact they can hurt me. Well, some of them can. I think it's to do with how they die. Like, they have anger in them that needs to be released somewhere,' she rambled. 'And unfortunately, it gets aimed at me more often than not. Or worse, they weren't particularly nice people when they died. They tend to be not so nice in death. Which is why I have Aiden.'

'Aiden?' Gus asked, reluctant to break Taylor's flow.

Taylor nodded. 'I don't know if you remember in the news about a year ago – an ex-CSI being murdered. Burnt. By DJ Pratt.' At Gus' nod of agreement, Taylor continued. 'I suppose she's a poltergeist, really. She can move things even now – Maddy, she's been dead longer and she can't move things anymore, but then again, it's not part of her job description. She looks after the dead. Aiden looks after me. But neither of them should be...,' she trailed off.

'Should be what?' Gus asked.

'Dead,' Taylor told her sadly. 'If I had only paid attention, then maybe they wouldn't be. Sometimes I think it's my punishment. Like karma. They died because of me, but because of that, I'm haunted by them all the time. But it's not like they're haunting me metaphorically,' she added quickly, throwing Gus a desperate look. 'They really are there. And Don can see them.'

'Taylor,' Gus started gently. 'What makes you say they died because of you?'

Taylor looked away, not wanting Gus to see the tears that were already back in the corners of her eyes. 'Because I didn't pay any attention,' she repeated, trying to keep her voice even. 'I was so wrapped up in anything but Maddy, I didn't even see that her boyfriend was a jerk until it was too late, and even then, when I knew what was happening, I still didn't do anything. It's the same with Aiden. I didn't even know until she dead, when she came to me to help, she... they found some pictures. Pratt was in my building. She... I should have seen it.'

'So in addition to seeing ghosts you feel you should also be psychic?' Gus replied tapping her pen against her pad before setting the whole file on the table beside her and leaning toward Taylor with her elbows on her knees. 'I know you don't want to hear this, but some things are out of your control and feeling guilty isn't going to change anything. Have you ever thought you have been given a gift instead of a punishment?'

Taylor let out a dry laugh. 'Me and Don went to Vegas. Well, we went to see my brother in San Diego and made a detour to Vegas. But the point is, the ghosts followed me there. Not Maddy and Aiden, although they were there – a different ghost – Holly her name was.' Taylor softly shook her head. 'Anyway, the ghosts followed me there, and I had to start all over, getting the CSIs in Vegas to believe me. One of them did, straight off. Greg. Bless him, he's a little out there. We email each other regularly – he keeps me entertained with some of the cases they have out there. But he keeps calling me a psychic. He doesn't mean it like I can see the future though. He sent me a definition once; "a person apparently sensitive to things beyond the natural range of perception". I guess he's right.'

Gus nodded her agreement. 'Maybe so, but I mean seeing the future.'

'I know you do,' Taylor sighed. 'And for the most part I do see it as a gift. Sometimes I wonder how much I actually help – you know, do I actually make sure the cases get solved, thanks to the ghosts, or even just speed up the process. Then I look at the team and think they could do it fine without me. It's just when they throw a curveball. Like demons. Or whatever the hell that was the other day.'

'How does Flack feel about this?' Gus asked as she nodded her head in the direction of the door and the detective who was waiting on the other side.

'I wouldn't date Don to start with,' Taylor sighed, her eyes flicking back to the qualifications. 'He didn't believe me about the ghosts and I wasn't about to start a relationship with anyone unless there was trust. Then he got caught up in an explosion and the next thing I know, I'm fighting to save his life with those higher powers. But after all of that, he can see Maddy and Aiden now, and he helps me as much as he can.' Taylor exhaled softly. 'I don't know what I'd do without him, sometimes,' she added. 'Especially recently.' She looked back at the blonde. 'I got framed for killing his best friend's brother.' Taylor frowned. 'Then before that, I was framed for supplying drugs when they were discovered in the walls of my apartment when that was burnt down.'

Gus cocked her head at her, her pen never stopping moving. 'You've been through a lot recently then?'

'We can add becoming an overnight mother, my car being driven into the river, and my roommate being accused of murder,' Taylor added, before frowning thoughtfully. 'Actually, that would probably make for an interesting story.' Taylor quickly shook her head. 'The hardest part, the hardest _consistent_ part,' she corrected herself, 'has been trying to get people to believe me. Or come up with decent excuses,' Taylor mused as an afterthought. 'The amount of people who have caught me talking to "myself",' she said, using her fingers as quotation marks. 'Half the time I wonder if telling the truth would make me seem more or _less_ crazy. Usually more. And I usually lie. Which I hate. But when I do tell the truth, it's a constant battle. Especially with Mac and Lindsay.'

Gus' pen paused in the note taking. 'Mac?'

'Mac Taylor,' Taylor expanded. 'And Lindsay Monroe. They're the two that know that don't believe me. Lindsay's actually, probably, the best friend I have that's still alive, but she just doesn't believe. Neither does Mac. I think it's because they're too scientifically minded. He's very by-the-book. Which I suppose works if you're in charge and trying to find the bad guys, but when I'm trying to help, it's harder when I'm constantly trying to prove myself, and I do, even though I'm not a CSI.' Taylor took a breath. 'Danny says he always feels like he's trying to prove himself, so I guess Mac is like that. Although he has loosened up a little, which is probably due to Peyton. But Mac's personal life doesn't really have a bearing on mine,' she added, misreading Gus' expression. 'Trying to stop him murdering someone does, I guess.'

Gus licked her lips. 'Murdering someone?' she asked, keeping her voice level.

Taylor nodded. 'Me and Mac don't always see eye-to-eye. And frankly, sometimes I want to throttle him – trust me, if I die, I'm coming back and haunting his ass – just to prove a point. But,' Taylor frowned. 'I had two Thanksgivings this year. On the first one, I managed to make a decent Thanksgiving meal for all my friends, and on the second one, I spent the day tactlessly telling Mac not to repeat his mistakes and kill someone.'

'I beg your pardon?' Gus asked, somewhat alarmed.

'It's weird,' Taylor continued, still misreading Gus' reactions. 'It's like I repeated the day. On the first one, Mac shot a cuffed suspect. And on the second, it looked like he pushed the same suspect off the top of a roof. It's in the papers now.'

'Mac wouldn't kill an unarmed person,' Gus said snappishly.

Taylor gave her a puzzled look. 'No, he didn't. But the only witness is my dead best friend. And, whilst I don't want to see Mac lose his job or anything, there's something slightly satisfying at seeing him under scrutiny with people questioning his integrity…' Taylor trailed off as she eyed Gus; whilst her face had remained completely impassive, there was something that had flickered briefly across her emerald-like eyes. And it wasn't something that was particularly good.

And then something flickered in the back of Taylor's memory, switching on the proverbial light bulb. 'Your uncle. The one that's the head of the crime lab...'

Gus gently nodded her head.

'Well that completely figures,' Taylor fumed gathering up her belongings and marching out of the door.

'How did it-?' Flack trailed off as Taylor stormed past him. Confused, he turned and found Gus staring accusingly at him. 'What have I done?'

'Flack, at _any_ point, did you point out to Taylor that Mac's my uncle?' Gus asked him.

'Aw, crap,' Flack muttered before shooting Gus an apologetic look. 'I'm sorry for whatever she said. They just don't really see eye to eye.'

Gus nodded. 'I gathered,' she drawled. 'You might want to go after her, you know,' she pointed out before somehow managing to trip herself up.

'How is someone so clumsy, so smart?' Flack asked in amazement as he helped her right herself.

Gus shrugged. 'Hey, I got the looks and the brains. Something had to go to balance it out.'

Flack grinned at her. 'You're right about that.'

'Hey Flack?'

'Yeah?'

'You still hate running after suspects?'

Flack nodded, pulling a face. 'And they still make me.'

'Yeah,' Gus shrugged. 'How do you feel about running after your fiancé?'

'Crap,' he muttered, turning and dashing out of the door. Thankfully, for Flack's legs, he spotted Taylor as soon as he dashed out of the door. She was sitting in the small garden across the street, watching a couple of robins in the bird bath as the wind whipped her hair out around her. Mentally preparing himself, he took a breath and walked over, sitting down beside her.

Taylor just looked up at him, one eyebrow cocked questioningly.

'So Gus is Claire's sister's daughter, who was brought up in New Orleans and relocated here about a year ago – after Katrina.'

'Really?' Taylor asked dryly. 'And you didn't think that, considering the relationship me and Mac have, that maybe, _maybe_, it might have been somewhat beneficial to have that piece of information _before_ I went in there insulting her uncle?'

'And would you have still gone?'

'Yes,' Taylor told him.

This time it was Flack's turn to arch the eyebrow.

'Probably.'

Flack continued to stare.

'Fine,' Taylor sulked. 'I wouldn't have gone.'

'Hence why I didn't say anything,' Flack sighed. 'And do you feel any better?'

'I don't know. Maybe,' Taylor sighed.

Flack wrapped his arm around her shoulder, drawing her to him. 'It won't happen overnight. It took me a few weeks with Gus before I could deal with being blown up and dying.'

Taylor looked up at him curiously. 'You said you were seeing the department shrink because it was a requirement for you to return to work.'

'It was,' Flack agreed. 'But it wasn't until the third or fourth session that I realized I needed to be there. And I didn't tell you for the same reason you won't talk to me; I didn't want you to worry.'

'Don, I'm always going to worry. But that doesn't mean that I don't want to know. I'd want to help.'

Flack gave her a sad smile. 'Exactly.'

Taylor sighed, leaning back into him. 'Fine,' she muttered. 'I'll see her a few more times.' Taylor frowned, watching the leaves dance in the wind in front of her. 'If she'll have me back after I told her I wasn't exactly sorry Mac was getting it in the neck with the Dobson thing.'

Flack winced. 'Please tell me you didn't?'

'Well not in so many words,' Taylor admitted. 'But the sentiment was there.'

'Gus is a professional. She's probably been called a few names in the past herself, and I bet she hasn't turned her clients away. You'll be fine. Just tone the insults down.'

'Can we go get the fish now?' Taylor asked.

Flack glanced down at his watch and nodded. 'Come on. Let's go get Cordelia.'


	197. Sometimes I thank God for unanswered

_ambercsi - Thank you very much!! I actually hadn't thought about that plot bunny, but I think I shall certainly be considering it now (so long as you don't mind)! And you're right about the chapter title!_

_Nienna Tinehtele - Thank you!! You don't have to worry about that - I'm just happy that you stuck it out with my baby. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting._

_Laplandgurl - I take it you've been keeping up with the latest episodes - I'm confused as to who they're hinting that they're going to be pairing Mac up with... and that whole 'she turned around'? I think i clearly misjudged Mac because I never pictured him saying that. So long as Maddie doesn't mind, I hope to use Gus again! And I had a day off today... I got in bed at 1am last night and didn't get up until 5pm today - I didn't realise how tired I was (:s)_

_Aphina - I'm finally feeling happy! I ditched one of the guys (wow, that makes me sound like such a ho!) And I quit my job! (:D) That was one of my favourite chapters to write - as was this one, actually - but I think it was one that was needed. Hopefully, Gus will be back_

_Trizzy - I really can't make my mind up with Kendall. I was fine with her until that street surfing eppy. But they should definately bring back Chad!! If you create a petition, I'll definately sign it!_

_Bmangaka - lol, she is, and will hopefully appearing again!_

_Devil-may-care101 - I figured I owed a double update. I'd do it again, but I've gone and messed around with the next chapter, so I don't have anything else to put up. You'll just have to make do with what is honestly my longest chapter yet! I agree, I think she would have exploded. I don't know what will happen with Gus - I shall see where my muses take me_

_demolished-soul - I can't talk, because I'm a geek and I love the films. However, I do agree that they seem to be taking over the world. I do think that Disney need to release a new 'classic' - an original, not something like 'Mulan 4'!!_

_meadow567 - I know what you mean - I think I spend too long over analysing names though. I won't be racking the money up for much longer though. I did the insane thing and quit one of my jobs... maybe I should go and see a shrink, lol! But there will be more_

_sparkyCSI - Foot-in-mouth disease. Hilarious... until you suffer from it yourself! I'm hoping that I can produce some more chapters myself! And sadly, the name matched... yeah... that's been fun..._

_Right guys, I'm sorry for another disappearing act - I think I may have sorted a few of my problems out though! In the meantime, you can have the longest chapter I've written yet! Actually, that's a lie... this chapter was co-written with sparkyCSI (my fabulous beta), so it wasn't completely me! I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 196: Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers**

Flack rolled over and stretched, and glanced at his alarm. It was only six, and he had another half hour before his alarm would wake him up. He stretched again and glanced over to his right, surprised to see that Taylor was still asleep next to him – with her not sleeping much, it was almost a rarity to wake up and find her in bed next to him. He smiled as he watched her sleep. Whether she was willing to admit it, the other day with Gus must have done _some_ good, because this was the third day she was still asleep when he had to get up.

He reached over and knocked his alarm off, not wanting it to wake her as he disappeared to the bathroom. The bare floorboards were freezing below his feet, and the bathroom felt like an icicle. Whilst they had rushed to get Cordelia's room decorated and finished, and Alex had provided them with a new bathroom, that was about as far as they had gotten with the decorating, and while they were waiting for an afternoon they could retile the bathroom, the radiator was still leaning against the wall.

Thankfully, the hot water was working properly, and Flack dove into a hot, steamy shower. It also meant that he got dried and dressed in record time, seeing as the room was so cold. Once dressed, he headed back to the bedroom, and smiled to see Taylor still asleep, now sprawled out across the bed.

Behind him, noise was beginning to emerge from Cordelia's bedroom – yelps of what sounded like excitement. As Ruben has spent the night, Flack pulled the bedroom door closed and headed to the children to try and nip the noise in the bud. He pushed Cordy's door open to find them staring out of the window at snow, which was swirling around.

'Hey Uncle Don,' Cordy yelled, throwing her pyjama clad body at him. 'It's snowing! Can we go make snow angels?'

Flack grinned, glancing down at his watch. 'Get washed and dressed, and we'll get some breakfast in you. And then we'll see.' There was an excited cheer at that. 'And keep your voices down,' he hissed. 'Taylor's still asleep!'

Leaving the kids to sort themselves out, Flack headed downstairs, still shivering, and hit the central heating on as he walked into the kitchen – clearly it was time to work out how to set it properly. He flicked the TV on low to keep an ear out for the schools which had been closed as he began pulling out the breakfast food.

After hearing nothing about Cordelia and Ruben's school, Flack decided to call them, and was disappointed to hear that it was actually open. He hung up and stared at the phone in amazement, wondering when the last time was he had been so excited about snow, and more importantly, that he had been considering calling in with a personal to play with kids that weren't his own. Sure he coached basketball at the Y, but that was worked around his shifts.

'Can we go make a snowman?' Cordelia cried, charging into the kitchen, already wearing her coat, scarf, gloves and hat, Ruben right behind her.

'Get some toast in you, and then we will go play in the snow,' Flack conceded. 'I think we can manage an hour before I have to get you to school.'

'But it's snowing,' Ruben moaned. 'It's a Snow Day.'

''Fraid not, kid,' Flack told him, actually feeling guilty. 'Your school is open and ready to teach.

Ruben was sulking all while eating his breakfast, but as soon as Flack opened the door to the street, it was gone as he jumped into the frozen white stuff. Flack followed him down the steps, almost slipping on the snow. He stopped, turned to head back inside to grab a shovel, and stopped when he saw Cordelia peering nervously at the snow. 'You alright, Worm?'

Cordelia nodded, still looking anxiously at the snow.

Flack frowned as a thought came to him. 'Have you ever seen snow?'

Cordelia stared up at him, her blue eyes wide, and shook her head. 'Only on the television.'

'It's not gonna hurt ya, squirt.'

'I know,' Cordy agreed. 'It's just so pretty.'

Flack smiled and headed back inside, grabbing a shovel from the cupboard under the stairs (where they had been storing all the tools and the likes) and headed back outside. By time he was back, Cordelia and Ruben were on their backs, making snow angels... in the middle of the sidewalk. Flack laughed. He couldn't help it.

--

Nearly an hour later and Flack was standing outside his bedroom, watching as Cordelia and Ruben were crawling across the floor, surprisingly quietly, snow in their hands – their target, a still sleeping Taylor. He had experienced a twinge of guilt, but considering her alarm was going to go off shortly – she had wanted to spend a day at her office – the expressions on the children's faces was worth it.

--

_Taylor looked around. The air smelt damp and of old fish, and it was cold in the warehouse. It was quiet too. She frowned. She was back, and although she knew it was a dream, her body was moving by its own accord. She glanced back behind her; knowing she was being followed, and tripped on the metal rung of the suspended walkway she was creeping along. The piece of metal she kicked went flying over the edge, but instead of landing with a crash, it landed with a splash._

_Taylor glanced over at the walkway's edge, and figuring she knew, or at least, had a good idea of what was there, carried on walking to the door._

_In front of her, the walkway widened as it reached a door. To the left, where the walkway was the widest, were a couple of drums. Taylor barely had time to process the items as door burst open in front of her and Flack came dashing out of it, his gun drawn, aimed at something behind her._

'_Don!' she yelled, knowing what was happening, her body not being able to do anything to stop what was happening._

'_Taylor!' he yelled, his voice sounding like he was shouting in slow motion._

_It was happening again. Halfway down the walkway was a man – the man, she knew, she had been trying to get away from – also with a gun and it was pointing right at them. There were several loud bangs as both Flack and the other man opened fire upon each other and then Taylor was pushed out of the way behind the drums._

_Taylor whirled around in time to see Aiden vanishing, and also in time to see Flack get hit twice in the chest as the gunshots stopped. Still moving in slow motion, Taylor scrambled to her feet as Flack, moving at normal speed, dropped him gun and looked down at the crimson blood which was soaking his shirt._

_Just as Taylor was almost in reach, he looked up at her before stumbling back and hitting the railing behind him._

'_DON!" Taylor screamed as he went careering through the railing and into the black abyss behind him._

_Around her, the room was closing in as it got colder and colder. Somewhere in the background, she could hear laughter, the air growing colder and colder, her feet numb._

_And then Aiden appeared. 'It was meant to be,' she told her, nonchalantly, placing a hand on Taylor's back. The hand felt like ice, dripping down her back._

'No!' Taylor screamed, jerking over and falling out of the bed. She lay on the floor, unable to move as the panic immobilised her body.

'Taylor?' Flack was over at her side in a second – that wasn't quite the reaction he had been expecting.

'Oh God,' Taylor gasped, as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled him to her.

Flack glanced at Cordelia and Ruben's terrified expressions long enough to make a split second decision. 'Don't react,' he hurriedly whispered in her ear. 'Cordelia and Ruben woke you up with snow.'

Taylor looked up over his shoulder at the children who were frozen on the bed, forcing her brain to kick into gear.

'I'm sorry,' Cordelia gasped, looking ready to cry.

'You got me good,' Taylor told them, forcing a smile as she pulled herself away from Flack to sit upright. 'First snow of the year, then?' she asked, pulling back the curtain and looking at the white world before her. 'Did you make a snowman?'

'Snow angels,' Flack told her, when the two children didn't respond.

'Well later, if the snow's still there, maybe we should make a snowman,' Taylor suggested, hugging herself as she shivered.

'Can we make it as tall as Don?' Ruben asked, his eyes wide as he finally found his voice.

'Bigger,' Taylor told them, crouching down to their level, and laughing as the stared up at Flack, their mouths hanging open.

Flack laughed too. 'Now go get your school uniforms on and let Taylor get dressed.'

'Aw,' the pair moaned.

'You want to make a snowman later?'

They were gone. Flack turned to Taylor. 'And what was that about?'

Taylor shivered again. 'It was just a bad dream,' she told him. 'And with the snow waking me up – I thought it was real for a moment.'

'Tay,' Flack started gently, but was disrupted by Cordelia and Ruben back in the doorway. 'I'll get these two to school,' he sighed.

Taylor gave him a grateful smile. 'I'm going to be in the office all day.'

'Have fun,' he responded, rising to his feet.

'You too.'

--

By the time Taylor had walked into her office, the snow had turned into one big slushy mess, and her feet were freezing. She slipped into her office, flung her coat onto the overflowing couch, and dropped into her chair. The truth of the matter was, that the weather outside wasn't why she was cold. The dream was still plaguing her, becoming more and more detailed – with the exception of the face of the shooter.

With a sigh, she pulled her mouse into a comfortable position, knowing that she was going to have to tell Flack. Sooner, rather than later.

Taylor opened up the document she had been working on last, and read through what she had written. Or at least tried. It was like she was seeing the words, but they just weren't registering.

After a good hour of getting nowhere, Taylor stepped back from her desk, raking her hands through her hair, and made her way to her window, her eyes falling on the sign of the cafe opposite; Louie's bagels.

Taylor shut her eyes and turned away, the sign conjuring up some memories she didn't want to remember. She glanced back at the computer and sighed, heading back to her seat. However, when she sat down, her attention was on the trash can, which had been emptied. Taylor grunted, her head falling to her hands.

Knowing there was only one thing to do, she grabbed her things together and walked back out of the building.

--

The subway was stuffier than normal, the windows steamed up from all the passengers who were slowly drying out from the slush. Taylor was almost grateful to get out into the chilly afternoon air as she resurfaced at the City Hall Station. That was until she was walking up Centre Street and her feet were frozen again.

No more than a few minutes later, Taylor found herself across the street from the Jacob K. Javits Federal Office Building staring up at the 41 storey glass and concrete construction. It took Taylor a further couple of minutes to pluck up the courage to walk in – there was something about walking into a Federal building which was extremely intimidating and automatically made her feel guilty.

However, the icy cold wind was soon enough to make her step into gear. She hurried across the road and into the reception area. The guy behind the counter gave her a quick glance, and not deeming her a threat, resumed whatever he was doing until she walked over.

'May I help you?'

'I'm not sure if I'm in the right place, but I'm after SSA Corrine Reid. But-'

'One moment,' the man cut her off, grabbing the phone. 'She will be up in a minute,' he told her. 'You can wait over there,' he said, pointing to the comfortable looking waiting area.

Taylor flashed him a smile which was lost as he was lost back in his work, then headed over to the seats, perching on the end of one, her eyes fixed on the elevator.

Taylor was staring at the still closed door wondering where the FBI agent was when a drawl interrupted her musing. 'Ms. Turner? I'm so glad you came down,' Cory said pleasantly.

'Don't get excited,' Taylor muttered. 'I'm not sure if I'm staying'

Cory bit her lip, but didn't let herself respond. 'Why don't you come to my office,' she replied instead of the scathing remark that was in the back of her mind.

Taylor glanced at the door, not entirely certain how comfortable she felt at being led into a building she couldn't escape from, when she spotted the McDonalds opposite. 'How about a coffee?' she suggested, pointing at the building.

Cory sighed, knowing that she was responsible for Taylor's lack of confidence in her office and relented. 'Fine,' she said in resignation. 'Let me just let my boss know that I'm going across the street.' She quickly pulled out her Blackberry and sent the email and then looked at Taylor expectantly. 'Shall we go?'

Taylor nodded and headed out of the door and across the street, not talking to Cory until after they had both ordered their drinks and seated themselves at a table by the window. 'I've never met Felix, or Antony, or whatever his name is,' Taylor blurted out

Cory sighed. 'I believe you, but somehow he knows you.' She looked out the window before glancing at Taylor, coming to a conclusion. 'Look, I'm sorry that you got caught in the middle of this. But I'm not going to apologize for investigating you. I was going off the information that I had at the time.'

Taylor's eyes narrowed. 'And what? Your policy is to investigate as if you're a bull in a china shop? Do you know hard I worked to build the bridges in that building?'

Cory took the jab but levelled a glare. 'Do you know how long and hard that I've worked myself up in the ranks. Now it's for nothing,' she shot back.

'Well it serves you right, doesn't it,' Taylor sniped meanly. 'Maybe you should have just asked me, and then, perhaps, we both wouldn't be trying to sort out the mess you've caused.'

'I didn't cause this mess! A rogue agent did. How the hell was I supposed to know that he was really a mole? I did an extensive background check,' she retorted and seeing Taylor's glare of disbelief continued, 'And yes I did find out how he did it. He had a contact in the NYPD wipe his records clean, then had the man killed. That's why all my damn hard preparations were for nothing!'

Taylor glared down at her coffee, snatching the lid off, and pouring an unnecessarily large amount of sugar into the cup before stirring it venomously. 'Well I guess it was only a matter of time before I got thrown out of that lab anyway,' she grumbled.

'I'm really sorry about that, but I was doing what I thought was right. Not that it matters to my bosses,' she muttered under her breath. 'But that's neither here nor there. If you didn't come to yell at me and you have no idea who Antony was, why are you here?'

'Because,' Taylor admitted as she stopped stirring the coffee. 'Louie was my friend. And he was killed in my car, by someone who looks like me.' Taylor looked up, meeting the agent's eye. 'He thought it was me. You thought it was me. And there has to be a reason for that, and I want to know it.'

'Maybe if we work together then we can get to the bottom of this?' Cory paused for a moment, part of what Taylor had said sunk in. 'How do you know that Louie thought it was you?' she asked suspiciously.

Taylor blinked. 'Huh?'

'You said that Louie thought it was you. How could you have known that?' Cory asked patiently.

'I meant Mac. Mac thought it was me,' Taylor said hurriedly, mentally kicking herself for that faux pas.

Cory levelled a stare at the nervous woman. 'Look, I wouldn't buy that load of bull from a fertilizer seller. We need to be completely honest with each other if we have a chance of unravelling who wants you out of the way. So why don't you be completely straight with me. I've been with you.'

Taylor shook her head. 'You haven't earned that trust yet,' she told her. 'Besides, that's not important, and it's certainly not going to be the case breaker.'

Cory shook her head. "Fine, I'll let you slide for now, but all the little details are important. I know you'll tell me if I need to know because I do trust you already. I don't know why, but I know I can." She paused, looking out the window for a minute. "If I had followed my gut, then things wouldn't be quite as messy. It is what it is. Why don't we go over everything we have? I trust that you would be comfortable enough to come up to my office now?"

Taylor sighed. 'Fine. I don't drink coffee anyway.'

Cory just laughed. 'Neither do I,' she said as she dropped her untouched drink into the trash can by the door.

Taylor managed a small smile as she mimicked the other woman's actions and followed her back across the street and into the federal building. As she followed Cory down the stairs, she quickly realised how she hadn't spotted her come out of the elevator – her office seemed hidden in the depths of the basement. Even the door didn't have a number, never mind a name, she noticed as Cory held the door open for Taylor to walk in.

Taylor looked around at Cory's office in amazement. She hadn't been too surprised at the number of corridors they had traversed to get to it, but upon walking in, Taylor was shocked. She was almost certain Harry Potter's cupboard under the stairs was bigger than this. 'This is... cosy,' she smiled politely.

Cory shrugged. "Let's just say the powers that be in my department aren't exactly happy with me, but it's an office and I'm not going to complain. Watch out for the boxes, I'm still trying to figure out where to put everything."

Taylor looked down just in time to see the box under her feet and dodged it, jumping over for the only other chair in the room and sitting down. 'So what made you think I was the connection? And why did he kill Louie?'

'I don't know why he killed Louie, all I know is that he told me that Sassone had been trying to get you into Tanglewood. This was supposedly an initiation killing,' Cory told her honestly.

Taylor burst out into a cackle of laughter. 'Sassone wanted me?' she gasped as she tried to catch her breath. 'He'd been trying to get me to help him for months and I didn't. I hardly think he wanted me in Tanglewood.'

Cory squinted her eyes. 'So why did Antony want me to think that he was recruiting you? Why the hell is Sassone so interested in you?'

'I don't know why Antony wanted you to think that,' she told her honestly. 'As for Sassone, he sent me a letter not long after he was arrested, requesting I visit him. I did.' Taylor shrugged. 'Call it journalistic curiosity. But all of the conversations were vague. He seemed to think I could get him out of prison.'

Cory looked like she was working all the angles in her head. 'So,' she began slowly. 'Sassone wants out of jail. That's not a surprise, but why does he think you can help him with that? Not like you're going to be a character reference for him. What do you have that he needs?' she mused.

Taylor shrugged. 'I thought he wanted me to write something. But he shot that idea down pretty quickly. It's not like I'm a key witness,' she added. 'I'd never seen him before until I visited him in prison.'

'What's the connection? There has to be a connection,' Cory almost growled, her frustration clearly showing. 'That is bugging the heck out of me. Everything's connected; even if you can't see it, everything is connected!'

Taylor stared in astonishment at the woman sat opposite her. 'You sound just like Mac,' she told her in amazement.

Cory shrugged. 'How so?'

'Everything is connected,' she said, trying to mimic Mac (and failing somewhat). 'That and he keeps prattling on about the integrity of his lab.'

Cory blushed slightly, thinking of the intimidating head of the lab. 'I agree with him. It's something that I've learned the hard way. But we just need to find that connection.' She grew pensive. 'The only thing I can think of that you have in common in Danny Messer.'

'Danny?' Taylor repeated in surprise.

'Yeah. He was close to Louie, who was in Tanglewood. Maybe Sassone wants to trip him up somehow. I know that Danny would never do anything for Sassone, so maybe he's trying to get under his skin.' She shrugged. 'I'm grasping at straws. How else is he going to get out?'

Taylor shook her head. 'From what I can gather, it's an open and shut case. Short of the evidence suddenly going missing, I don't see how he can get out.' She frowned. 'I just don't see how this all comes back to me.'

Cory's eyes opened as everything fell into place. 'Because the only other way for him to get out is to claim that the evidence was compromised!' She hit her head with her palm. 'God! I'm an idiot not to have seen it!'

Taylor stared blankly at her. 'Well I'm an idiot because I still don't see it.'

'You're not an idiot, but I'm trained to see stuff like this. If you were convicted of a crime, then Sassone's lawyers could claim that because all the time you spent in the lab, you could have compromised the evidence. Thus securing his release,' she said excitedly.

'That makes sense,' Taylor agreed, rubbing at her head. 'But why kill Louie. And I thought Antony killed Louie, not Sassone.'

'Maybe because Louie would see through the plot? Louie knew all of the people in the gang, he knew their hierarchy. The only thing I can guess that Antony wanted to gain control of the gang. That's why Sassone was killed, so I would guess that maybe he thought that Louie would be a threat to that. Plus, it was a great way to try to engineer your downfall.'

Taylor nodded slowly. 'Yeah, but Sassone is in charge of Tanglewood. Surely he would be able to see Antony as a fake before Louie, who wasn't even involved?'

'From jail? Maybe, just maybe if he wasn't in jail he could have seen it, but he was completely out of contact. My thought is that Antony thought that Louie still had contact with the old-timer's and would figure out what was going on,' Cory reasoned.

Taylor slumped back against the chair. 'So why was Antony/Felix so intent on stitching me up. Again. Because let's be honest, the first time Sassone tried it, he didn't exactly get a presidential pardon and a release. He was killed in prison.'

'Because you were an easy target. Sassone probably made it known that he wanted you compromised because of your contact with the lab. Bring down you, he had a chance to take down one of the best forensics labs in the country. So Antony-Felix or whoever decided that his plan intertwined with Sonny's and kept up the charade long enough to try. At least, that's my guess,' she finished with a smile.

Taylor slumped back in her chair. Suddenly, things were making much more sense. She frowned slightly, realising that she was going to have to admit to Flack he may have been right. 'When I get my hands on him...' she grunted, trailing off as she caught the sight of Cory's arched eyebrow.

'He's still AWOL,' Cory admitted. 'He's gone dark.'

Taylor scoffed. 'Coward.'

'He does face the death penalty,' Cory pointed out. 'He's killed, or orchestrated the killing of several men.'

Taylor twitched her nose. 'Someone must know where he is. He can't coordinate a giant gang takeover from the middle of nowhere. The Bullets have at least two safe houses in Pelham Bay, one up in Washington Heights, and apparently one in Harlem.'

Cory gave her a sharp look. 'How do you know that?'

Taylor shrugged. 'Research.'

'Research?'

Taylor nodded. 'Just because I'm not a cop doesn't mean I don't have contacts. And I thought you had all my notes.'

'I don't understand shorthand. And my analysts have had fun with some of your notes. They tell me you like making squiggles up.'

'Yeah,' Taylor admitted. 'It's not my strongest style.'

Cory looked over at her, suddenly looking hopeful. 'Will you go through them with me? You may have stumbled across something without realising it.'

Taylor was about to agree when the room's temperature dropped a few degrees. She clamped her eyes closed as she prayed that there wasn't a ghost behind her. Of course she wasn't going to have that much look.

'What are you doing in a closet?' Maddy's voice carried clearly through the room. 'And who's that guy?' she asked.

Taylor peeked her eyes open to find Maddy standing behind Cory's desk, pointing to a picture Taylor could only see the back of. 'I don't know.' Taylor muttered, looking down at the ground as she scratched a non-existent itch behind her ear.

'I'm sorry, what?' Cory asked her, shivering a bit at the cool temperature. 'Damn air conditioner,' she muttered as she reached for the temperature control.

Taylor quickly shook her head, throwing a glare at Maddy as Cory's attention was on the thermostat. 'Nothing,' she said, cringing as Aiden appeared.

'He's cute,' Aiden informed a horrified Taylor as she peered in for a closer look.

'You have got to be kidding me,' she muttered. 'And leave that alone,' she hissed at Aiden, who was prodding at the photograph

'What? I don't want it to freeze in here!' Cory retorted and turned when she heard the sound of breaking glass.

Taylor looked around the room. 'Wow, the traffic vibrations are really bad in here. I think you need to tell your boss you new office is a health hazard and things get broken spontaneously,' Taylor finished lamely, not even believing what she was saying as she glared at Maddy who was now laughing hysterically. She gave Cory a weak smile.

Cory raised an eyebrow before glancing down to see what was broken. 'Damn it! I hope that it didn't mess up the picture,' she exclaimed whilst carefully lifting the picture frame. With a frown, she glanced around the room. 'Traffic vibrations?'

Taylor shrugged. 'Subway? I don't know. '

'Mmmm,' Cory nodded with a frown, clearly not convinced.

'What are you doing here?' Taylor hissed.

'Taylor? Are you okay?' Cory asked, concerned that the woman seemed to be rambling.

Taylor looked over at Cory and was midway through nodding when she changed her mind and slowly shook her head instead. 'I think I need some air,' she said. 'It's feeling a little crowded in here,' she added, giving Maddy a pointed glare. 'Can we rain check?'

Cory nodded. 'Um...sure. Let me give you my cell number. It's easier to reach me there, since this place,' she trailed off as she gestured around the small space. 'Let's just say I don't like to spend my time here.'

* * *

_I must apologise (again!) for the long time missing. I haven't stopped working (again)! That and the fact my job has been making me that miserable, I think I scared my muses off._

_So I have done something that only a truely insane person would do during this current economic situation. I handed in my notice. I actually did. I think it may have hit home with my boss - she asked me if I had another job, I said no... she really couldn't understand it... actually not many people can. But the fact is, I am happier... and my muses are back!_


	198. You've got bones in your closet

_Devil-may-care101 - You don't need to apologise - I think I've done pretty well with my own disappearing act at the moment! I plan on completely wrapping that story up in the upcoming chapters - for my own sanity, as well as Taylor's! Due to my infrequent updates, this whole storyline has been buzzing about in my head for a good two years now!_

_ambercsiny - I say I'm writing again and then go away. But I have an end to this story (however long away that is) and if nothing else I want to stick it out until then. So hopefully there will be plenty for you to read!_

_RK9 - It's been so long - did your exams go alright? Glad you could still find the time to drop a line! And my lil pal Seymour - how's he doing??_

_Trizzy - I have to ask - which is the other? I'm guessing you'd recommend it?! You know, aside from the last ever 8 episodes which are still on my Sky+ waiting to be watched, I have FINALLY found a channel which is showing all the episodes and I will soon have watched all of Third Watch. I know what you mean with Bosco - I spend ages making sure his name was still in the credits everytime I watched - it just wouldn't be the same without him. If you need to leave your job, I'd say do it - I haven't been this happy in a long time! I just wish I'd had the sense to wait until after Christmas... oh well, what's done is done!_

_Madison Bellows - No, I keep disappearing too - but I keep coming back! I have lots planned, just not enough time to write it in._

_sparkyCSI - Mine are now going mental. My fingers can't keep up. It's a good job a lot of what I have planned next has been written... although that much needs editing in it, I may as well re-write it. Has work become any better?_

_Thoren - If I was a ghost, I would be causing a lot of mischief!! Pictues would move, keys get hidden, and certain people would have me litterally breathing down their neck and freaking them out. I'm glad it reminded you, although I have a feeling there will be a sense of deja vu with this chapter update._

_demolished-soul - We had snow a couple of weeks back. It looked pretty, and the rabbits, strangely, loved it. But driving to work in it was long - I should have just pulled a sicky! Ah well. I wish it would snow again. Ugh, sequels. I have yet to find a decent Classic sequel. _

_Laplandgurl - I was miserable. Since I handed in my notice people keep telling me I look happy, so I guess I hated it more than I thought. Nothing lined up, just a bit of DJing. I worked 18 hour days for a good 8 months, so I have a little saved up that I don't have to work straight away, but that time seems to be flying by. I need a job!_

_meadow567 - it's downloading, albeit slowly! I like Flack too much to kill him. Although, if we go by that logic, it's Mac we should be worried about..._

_Where to start? Well I guess the obvious place should be with my eternal gratitude to my beta, sparky, who not only puts up with my constant disappearing sprees, but will also return my chapters within hours of me sending them to her - regardless of the different timezones! Next, in this chapter, we have spoilers from 3x22; Cold Reveal, as well as 3x23; ...Comes Around. Finally, a HUGE apology for my six week disappearence - I thought not having a job would free up time... turns out I was wrong!_

**

* * *

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 197: You've got bones in your closet**

Although she was somewhat upset with Maddy and Aiden appearing like that, she was quite relieved at the same time. As Taylor stood on the corner, looking to hail a cab, she realized that arranged to head to the crime lab to meet Stella for lunch (Stella had been craving sushi the previous day), and she would have been late. Taylor hopped into the taxi, quickly texting Stella that she was on her way.

The traffic was moving slowly and Taylor ended up sending another text before they finally pulled up outside the lab, twenty minutes late. Rushing out, she tripped, landing straight on the unfortunate person who happened to be standing in the way. 'Sorry,' Taylor winced, feeling her face heat up in embarrassment.

'You alright?' he asked her, his voice thick with an accent Taylor recognized but couldn't place.

'Yeah, sorry,' Taylor repeated, flashing him another embarrassed smile before dashing into the lab. By the time she made it to reception, she wasn't surprised to see Stella waiting for her, looking a little worried. 'Sorry I'm late,' Taylor apologized.

'I think I might have to rain check,' Stella told her. 'Mac wants to see me.'

'Oh!' Taylor exclaimed. 'Did you tell him about the feeling of being followed?'

'Huh?' Stella asked, seeming distracted.

'Lindsay's wedding dress,' Taylor offered, waving her arms around. 'It felt like we were being watched?'

'Oh that,' Stella said, suddenly focusing on what Taylor was telling her. 'Actually, yes. And we weren't being paranoid.'

Taylor frowned. 'Do I need to be worried?'

Stella quickly shook her head. 'It's Mac's stepson.'

Taylor blinked. 'He kept that one quiet.'

'He didn't know,' Stella explained. 'The kid turned up looking for Claire, and in the process of following Mac around, figured that I was seeing him. And he's not _that_ bad,' Stella told Taylor who was wrinkling her nose at that image.

Taylor cocked her head and eyed the pregnant woman. 'Stell, are you alright?'

Stella exhaled slowly and shook her head. 'My DNA was found on a ten year old murder case from Philadelphia.'

'What?!' Taylor exclaimed. 'How the hell did that happen? You can't have murdered someone.'

'I didn't,' Stella quickly agreed.

'No, but your DNA still connects you to my cold case.'

Taylor and Stella both turned to find the man Taylor had walked into moments earlier, eyeing the pair of them. 'And who are you?' Taylor asked him.

'Detective Valens, Philly homicide,' the Latino man told her. 'And who would you be?'

'Taylor Turner,' she returned.

'And you're a CSI too?'

Taylor pursed her lips. 'More of a specialist.'

'Great, another cocky lab rat,' Valens muttered under his breath.

Taylor's eyes narrowed.

'Don't you _dare _talk to her like that, Valens,' Stella snapped at him. 'You have no right to come waltzing into this lab, criticizing people, and accusing people of murder-'

Taylor glanced around at the small crowd that was gathering and grabbed the sleeves of both the detective's jackets, pulling them both into the closet empty lab. 'Sorry, but this is not a conversation to be had in the middle of reception.'

'No, you're right,' Stella muttered as Valens nodded his head.

'I'm sorry,' Valens apologized, 'but the fact of the matter is that our lab made a positive hit to a '97 murder investigation when we ran the blood evidence through CODIS.'

'You had new evidence?' Stella asked him.

Valens shook his head. 'We regularly run DNA through CODIS to see if any new entries have been made. It's _clearly_ a successful practice.'

'I don't understand,' said Stella. 'How did my DNA end up in CODIS?'

Valens shrugged. 'You been arrested for anything recently?'

Stella rolled her eyes, before sending him a scathing look. 'No.'

'Um, I think that may have been something to do with me.'

Taylor, Stella and Valens looked over at the source of the voice. Sat behind a computer in the corner of the lab, Adam was trying his best to look inconspicuous.

'What do you mean?' Stella asked suspiciously.

'I uh, the pregnancy test you, uh, asked me to do. I think another, uh, tech might have, um, picked it up.'

Shaking his head, Valens slammed his case on the table and pulled out a folder. 'Does this coat look familiar?'

'No,' Stella told him, shaking her head.

'Well picture it less dirty, faded?'

Stella glared up at him. 'I've never seen the coat before, detective.'

Valens inhaled before pulling out another photograph. 'This a blouse found at the scene.'

Stella licked her lower lip in irritation. 'How about you just let me look at the case file?'

Valens smiled at her. 'You may be a detective, but you're also a suspect.'

'I'm also a cop who can help you,' Stella pointed out. 'Your department has been at a dead end until you got to me. I wasn't in Philly when you got your evidence. I was here, in New York, attending the police academy. So what do you say we use the resources of our forensics lab, bring on some fresh eyes and see if there's a connection – a New York connection to this evidence.'

Taylor was about to voice her agreement to the idea when the door was flung open and Mac stormed into the lab. 'Taylor!' he bellowed. 'My office. Now!'

Feeling like a child who had been caught with their fingers in the cookie jar, Taylor sighed and followed him to his office.

'What have I told you about being in this lab?' Mac yelled at her.

Taylor glared back at him, her arms folded tightly. 'Mac, I came in to meet Stella for lunch. I ended up in the middle of a heated discussion with her and the detective from Philadelphia, and rather than have the whole lab listening in, I dragged them into that room so they could have some privacy. It's not my fault Valens decided to produce some evidence there and then,' Taylor told him, keeping her voice even.

'In future, leave that to me, and you don't step past reception,' Mac told her, his voice softening slightly.

'I'm going,' Taylor muttered, dropping her arms. She turned to open the door as Gerrard did the same from the other side. He gave her a curt nod of the head as she stepped back.

'Do you have a minute, Mac?' Gerrard turned to Taylor. 'You may as well stay for this as it involves you.'

Taylor nodded with a frown.

'The police department is going forward with an internal investigation.'

Mac glared at him, his anger quickly returning. 'So you're telling me that the DA has no evidence that I tossed Dobson off that building, but the NYPD isn't sure?'

'It's not as simple as that, Mac,' Gerrard told him.

'No,' said Mac, shaking his head. 'I don't imagine that it is.'

'This is about the police department.'

Mac snorted. 'What you mean is you and Sinclair felt a little media pressure,' he nodded his head in Taylor's direction. 'And for the sake of the department, you're not going to come to my defense. And I suppose I shouldn't take that personally?'

'Hey!' Taylor objected. 'Just because I work for a paper does _not_ mean that I'm part of the media lynch mob, Mac. I know you didn't do it.'

Gerrard held his hands up. 'The department has an obligation to the people of this city.'

'You used to walk the beat, Stan,' Mac pointed out. 'You used to walk 42nd street, and it was nothing but drug dealers and hookers, and little by little, you and a dozen hard working cops cleaned it up. Made it what it is today.'

'What's your point, Taylor?' Gerrard asked suspiciously.

'I was just wondering?' Mac asked. 'When you making all those arrests, locking up bad guys, were you imagining a day when you'd be sitting behind a desk being so busy kissing the chief of detective's ass that you wouldn't remember what it was like to be a cop?'

'You son of a bitch,' Gerrard growled. 'I don't deserve that. You know-'

'You don't have to explain it, Inspector,' Mac told him, cutting him off. 'I get it. You're just a puppet.'

'Mac, that's a little out of order,' Taylor pointed out.

'And you?' Mac turned on her. 'What are you still doing in my lab?'

Taylor was all ready to ask him if he'd forgotten that Gerrard had asked her to stay, but Gerrard beat her to it. 'You might want to be nice to her, Taylor,' he told Mac. 'Because not only does she seem to be the only member of the press who actually believes you, she's also one of your witnesses,' he shouted after Mac as the head detective took off out of the office.

Taylor's mouth dropped. 'I'm what?'

'The hearing commences tomorrow morning,' he looked over at Taylor, placing a hand on her shoulder. 'Don't be afraid of Mac,' he added before leaving, leaving Taylor with her mouth still hanging open.

'Yo Drew, how many flies you catching there?' Danny asked her, appearing at her side, looking somewhat amused at what he saw.

Taylor turned slowly. 'Mac's got a hearing tomorrow about Dobson, and they want me there.'

'Yeah, I heard,' Danny shrugged.

'And you didn't think to say anything?' Taylor gaped at him.

Danny held his hands up in defense. 'Taylor, I only just found out myself.'

'Sorry,' Taylor sighed. 'I'm just in shock.'

'Tay, they're accusing him of pushing a cuffed suspect off the side of a building. There was always going to be an inquiry into it. The problem is, they do have a good case.'

'Mac didn't push anyone off a building, cuffed or otherwise,' Taylor told him vehemently.

'Hey,' Danny shot back. '_I_ know that. We just have to convince everyone else of that.'

'Yeah,' Taylor agreed, although a small part of her was thinking her life would be slightly easier if there was someone else running the crime lab. 'Although personally, I think that maybe we should focus on Stella.'

Danny nodded. 'That's where I'm headed now. You coming?'

Taylor sighed, glancing down the corridor. 'I don't know. Mac has told me to get out. Again.'

'Mac's gone to his hearing,' Danny pointed out.

Taylor frowned. 'Gerrard said it starts tomorrow.'

'Mac's got his prelim this afternoon,' he glanced at his watch. 'Or at least he will have in a couple of hours. But I guess he's going to want to meet with the Union rep before then. Which means the lab is going to be Mac free for a time.'

Taylor grinned. 'You're a bad influence, Danny Messer.'

'It's all part of the charm,' Danny grinned as he led her into a lab.

Stella looked up from the table she was sat at. 'Danny, this is Detective Scotty Valens from Philadelphia homicide. Detective Valens, this is Detective Danny Messer.'

Danny gave the guest detective a curt nod, which was quickly returned, before Valens grabbed a box from the floor and dumped it on the table and began pulling out various bagged evidence and photographs. 'March 97, workers found the bloodied clothes and knife buried in the dirt. Clothes were on the south side of the Philadelphia turnpike, headed towards Philly. It matches no missing persons report file... there's just this evidence. No prints on the knife, but the blouse had three cuts in it and much of the blood on the clothes was female, but there was some male DNA.' He looked over at Stella. 'Of course, we found traces of your blood as well.'

Stella ignored the comment and pulled some papers over to her. 'It says here the blouse had photo developing chemicals on the cuffs.'

Valens nodded. 'Yeah, we think the victim may have been a photographer.'

Danny looked up from the folder he was poring over. 'There were traces of neoprene and Vaseline, and white iridescent paint found on the coat.'

There's a lot of different uses,' Valens admitted.

'Let me see this chemical report,' said Stella, leaning to take said report from Danny. 'So, iridescent paint, neoprene and Vaseline? It's rubber, right?'

Danny nodded his head in agreement. 'What ya thinkin?'

Stella's eyebrows knitted together. 'Ten years ago all of these chemicals were featured prominently in one place in Manhattan. A piece of art at El Museo del Barrio.

'You were there?' Valens asked her sharply.

Stella shook her head. 'No. I just remember reading about it in the paper. You said that your vic was a photographer. Maybe she brushed up or leaned against it an picked up the trace whilst she was taking photos.'

Danny looked up. 'I'll put a call in to the newspapers to see if they have anything in their archives.'

Taylor quickly cleared her throat, throwing Danny a look which said something along the lines of 'duh!'

'Taylor, you can have a look in the archives,' Danny quickly corrected himself.

Stella nodded. 'You know,' she said to Danny, 'we should check new York's missing persons and see if anyone who's associated with the museum has gone missing.'

'We?' asked Valens, looking a little put out. 'I ain't looking for a partner here.'

Stella gave him a pointed look. '_I_ ain't looking for a partner here.'

---

Taylor didn't realize how late it had gotten until the sound of the door opening and closing again brought her from her trance. She was sitting on the floor of the front room, curled up on the rug – the only carpeting in there still, tucked up under a thick blanket in front of the fire. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail with two pens poked into it, another was in her hands, tapping at her knee, occasionally making its way to her mouth to chew on thoughtfully, an unknown blue ink stain darkening the corner of her mouth. Surrounding her were papers dating back ten years, as well as a laptop on the floor in front of her, logged into her paper's archives.

'You're going to hurt your eyes like this,' Flack told her warily – aside from the light from the fire, Taylor only had a small lamp on in the corner of the room, MTV playing quietly from the TV, and the light glow of the laptop.

'You're back late,' Taylor smiled at him after glancing at the clock on the laptop. 'I thought your shift finished a few hours ago?'

'I take it you didn't get the text then?' Flack asked her as he cleared some space behind her and sat down, pulling her into him.

Taylor leant forward to pull the blanket from her and wrapped it around them both. 'Don, you're freezing,' she told him, shivering as his hands snaked around her waist and under her sweater to pull her tightly.

Flack exhaled softly, resting his chin on her shoulder. Even his stubbly chin was cold. 'I was out on patrol with Angell.'

Taylor cranked her neck to look at him, noting the trouble expression in his eyes. 'Patrol? What did you and Angell do?'

'Mac walked out in the middle of his opening statements.'

'That's not gonna look good,' Taylor muttered softly. 'Why?'

Flack shook his head. 'I wasn't in there, but Mac came out saying they were accusing him of being a murderer. I can understand it in a way, I guess.'

'And how does this feed back to you going out on patrol?'

Flack gave a small shrug. 'Gerrard.'

Taylor's eyes narrowed. 'What did he say to _you_?'

Flack shifted so he could see her face. 'Why? What did he say to _you_?'

'I asked first,' Taylor shrugged.

Flack frowned. 'Called me smart. That I knew where my loyalties lay.'

'Which translates to?' Taylor pressed.

'Well, as Sinclair put it; "the outcome of a hearing like this can have a profound effect on the careers of many people for years to come".'

Taylor snorted. 'No pressure then?'

'Something like that,' Flack muttered, returning his position so that his chin was back on Taylor's shoulder. 'What did he say to you?'

'Same thing minus the promotion hints,' Taylor shrugged. 'So how did you end up on patrol? You didn't tell Gerrard where to stick it, did you?'

Flack smiled. 'Tempting as it was, no, I didn't. I just didn't want to be in the pen today. Needed some air. Angell agreed to join me.'

'Should I be worried?'

'Of what? Jenn? Not unless I grow some boobs.'

Taylor laughed. 'Fine, point taken.'

'And what are you doing?'

Taylor took a deep breath. 'I went to see that FBI agent this morning. And that seems a very long time ago at this point.'

'And?'

'Well, she pointed out that the reason Sassone may have been targeting me was because it would discredit the lab and he could then get out on a technicality,' Taylor bit her lip. 'I also agreed to help her. She seems to think I may have found something out without realizing it. Which is entirely possible, but I think that if it was something major _I_ would have noticed it.'

'I'm glad you're doing it, Tay, but please be careful.'

Taylor squeezed the arms around her. 'Don, she's an FBI agent, and more to the point, we're just going over my notes.'

'I know,' Flack sighed. 'But I have a funny feeling about this.'

'I'll be fine,' Taylor reassured him.

'You'd best be,' he told her as he reached out and grabbed one of the papers nearest to them. 'What's a ten year old art exhibition got to do with Sassone?'

Taylor winced. 'You've not been anywhere near the lab have you?'

Flack shook his head. 'I told you, I was at Mac's hearing, and then I was out on patrol. What's going on, Tay?'

'Oh, um… Well, there's a homicide detective from Philadelphia paying a visit. It turns out that Stella's DNA was found at a murder scene ten years ago.'

Flack scowled. 'Is it me, or does anyone else think that's a load of bull?'

'Oh, we all think it. Problem, Valens, the detective, he doesn't know Stella. We've just got to prove her innocence.'

'Much as I love you for helping, but isn't this one of those occasions where you shouldn't be?'

'Stella helped me,' Taylor objected. 'I'm going to help her.'

'I knew you'd say that,' he muttered tiredly. 'Just be careful, Tay. Mac's under a lot of pressure and IAB are crawling all over the lab at the minute. Not to mention the detective doesn't exactly know of your abilities.'

'And he's not going to either,' Taylor returned. 'I'll be fine. I know I will. And so will they.'

Flack sighed. 'I should go to bed. I have to be at the hearing tomorrow.' He frowned. 'Actually, don't you have to be at the hearing too?'

Taylor nodded. 'I'm first up. And I'll be up in a bit. I just want to finish up here.'

Flack leant around and pressed his lips to hers, before extracting his long limbs from around her and leaving her on the rug.


	199. You have to show them that you're really

_The Corrupter - Hey you, you caught me just in time - you can't tell me I made you wait ages now. I am wrapping some things up, mainly because I think that they've been lingering for a little too long now. But I'm unfortunately(?) far from being finished. Gus belongs to Madison Bellows, not me, but I'm hoping she will be back. Soon! And Cory will be around, on and off for a while now too!_

_Trizzy - don't tell me Valens has left Cold Case, because I don't think I'll be able to handle that one. I know which one you're talking about - I had it reccomended to me a while back and I did start reading it. I just got to the point where I wasn't reading FF at all anymore! I definately want the wedding to happen too! Happy New Year to you, too!_

_Madison Bellows - I got a little obsessed with that show, so I had to use it, but I do plan on sending them to Philly in the future!_

_sparkyCSI - I've said it to you before, and I'll say it again, but I can't wait for them all to be friends. They've done something with Mac's character in season 3 and I'm not sure it's recovered! Don't worry about the chapters - I know I bombarded you with them!!_

_Thoren, Abby and Kilana - hey guys! Glad you liked! Don't have a sugar rush, lol! I know what you mean about the episode - I've been watching all the old seasons when I can._

_ambercsiny - I can't believe you started it all over again! I've actually been very busy swamping my beta down with chapters - I think I may be wearing my fingers away to stubs on my keyboard at the minute, so there's plenty more to come!_

_Laplandgurl - I never know where my muse is going to take me, which is cometimes fun. But with this one, I think things will be alright! And Stella's gonna be fine too - I promise!_

_demolished-soul - Yeah, Valens will be back. I love his character in Cold Case and I really don't think they did it justice in the CSI. Not that I think I can do, but I'm gonna have fun trying!_

_meadow567 - well, I was trying to get 'Shag' downloading, but I'm having fun trying to find sources. So I think i will have to admit defeat and go rent it!_

_Big thanks to my beta - sparky!_

_And we still have spoilers for Cold Reveal, and ... Comes Around!_

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What The Eyes Can't See

**Chapter 198: You have to show them that you're really not scared **

Taylor was already out of the house before Flack had hit the shower, having never gone to bed. Hyped up on Red Bull, she'd dropped Cordelia off at the pre-school club (probably one of the few times Cordy had ever turned up to school on time) made a detour to her paper, and gone straight to the lab, her arms laden with sheets of papers and folders, and a box.

'You haven't slept, have you?' Danny asked taking one look at her.

Taylor shook her head. 'Too much to do.'

'You do realize you have done my job, haven't you?' he asked her, taking the items out of her hands and putting them on his desk.

'Yeah, but I also realize that not only does Stella not need this stress whilst pregnant, that this is the only way I can do anything remotely useful, and even then it doesn't begin to pay her back for the amount of times she's helped me over the years,' she informed him before going over what she had. She had just about finished when Stella walked in, Valens right behind her, also looking like she hadn't slept much either.

'What you got?' Stella asked, giving them both bright smiles.

Taylor held up a paper. 'I found a photo expose on the sorrowful wall at the Museum du Barrio, March 30th 1997.'

'That's the day after the bloody clothes were found,' Valens noted.

'The photo byline was Erin Yates,' explained Danny. 'And get this, after she handed in the film on the exhibit, the paper never heard from her again.'

Stella turned to Valens. 'Could she be your vic?' she asked.

Valens shrugged. 'Could be.'

Taylor motioned to the box. 'That paper was at the _New York Daily_. I stopped in and grabbed her box of belongings that she left behind. There's water damage. From the hose pipes and burst pipes in the explosion,' she added.

Valens leant over and looked in the box, plucking out one of the items. 'Press pass.' He handed it over to Stella.

'I don't know her.'

There's a bunch of films, and the last one is dated march 27th 1997, which is two days before you found the bloody clothes,' said Danny, pulling the items out.

Taylor glanced over. 'I wonder why she never developed the films?'

Stella shrugged. 'Maybe Erin took photographs of something she shouldn't.'

'So let's develop them and see what's on them,' Taylor said, making for the films.

Danny slapped her hand away. 'You have to be in court.'

Taylor glanced down at her watch and swore. 'Sorry Stella,' she yelled over her shoulder as she ran out of the door.

Valens turned to the two New York detectives. 'Is she always like that?'

Stella nodded. 'You get used to it.'

---

'Where the hell have you been?' Flack asked as Taylor got out of the taxi and dashed up the steps to the courtroom.

'I had to stop by the lab,' she explained as she paused to examine her reflection in a window.

'You're cutting it fine,' Flack told her, ushering her on. 'They're starting to call people up. And you're first on that list.'

It wasn't long before Taylor was seated and waiting expectantly for the departmental investigator to question her. 'So, Miss Turner. Could you just state, for the record, your name and profession.'

Taylor gave the woman, Natalie, a smile. 'Taylor Turner. Crime writer for the _New York Daily_.'

Natalie gave her a smile that made Taylor think of a cat who had an unsuspecting mouse within its grasp. 'So, you're a reporter?'

Taylor frowned. 'I prefer the term, _columnist_.'

'But you write for one of the biggest newspapers in New York, correct?'

Taylor nodded. 'Yes, but-'

'And can you explain why you were there?'

'Where?' Taylor asked carefully.

'Wherever you like,' Natalie shrugged. 'The crime lab, where the detectives found Katie Lawrence, the back of Detective Taylor's car, why you were handcuffed outside the same building that Detective Taylor pushed Truby off of.'

'Mac didn't push him,' Taylor quickly jumped in.

'And you know this for certain, do you?'

'Yes,' Taylor told her firmly.

'But you were handcuffed to the door of Detective Taylor's car?'

Taylor frowned. 'Yes, but-'

'And why were you handcuffed to the car door, Miss Turner?' Natalie asked her politely.

Taylor pursed her lips. 'I, uh. I'm a bit of a klutz?' she offered.

Natalie walked over to her table and looked down at the papers that were laid out over it. 'It says in your statement to IAB that you were, and I quote, "messing around with them".'

'If that's what I said,' Taylor muttered.

'You make it a habit of "messing around" with officer's cuffs?'

'I wouldn't say I make a usual practice of it,' Taylor told her, really not feeling any love for the woman.

'And what about turning up at crime scenes? Do you make a usual practice of that?'

Taylor glared at her. 'With all due respect, that wasn't a crime scene. Or at least it wasn't when I arrived there.'

'But why _were _you there, Miss Turner?'

Taylor frowned. _How the hell was she going to explain this one?!_ 'Some... one came to see me,' she said, picking her words carefully.

'Someone told you that Detective Taylor was going to kill Truby?'

'No,' Taylor said quickly. 'Someone came to me with information that someone might be in trouble.'

'You're not exactly forthcoming with the details,' Natalie pointed out.

'Look,' Taylor snapped. 'I may not be a police officer, but in my line of work, I still get people coming to me and giving me information in confidence and I'll be damned if I'm going to betray that trust.'

'So you admit that you're not a police officer, and yet you are repeatedly found at crime scenes and in the crime lab?'

Taylor's eyes narrowed as she wished she had the power to kill people with a glance. 'Yes,' Taylor answered wondering where she was going with this.

'And is it true that you have been asked repeatedly to leave said crime scenes?'

'Well it's a little-'

'A simple yes or no will do,' Natalie told her with a patronising smile.

'Yes.'

'So I repeat the question, Miss Turner. Why were you at the crime scene? Or were you there for a story?'

'I don't go to the crime scenes for stories,' Taylor snapped. 'And if you bothered to read anything I've ever written, you'd know that.'

'So why were you there?' Natalie repeated.

'Because I was worried Mac was going to do something stupid,' Taylor yelled at her, regretting it as soon as it left her mouth.

'Thank you, Miss Turner.'

'I didn't mean it like that,' Taylor told her.

'That will be all.'

----

'That woman is a stupid bitch!' Taylor snarled as she stormed out of the courtroom and past Flack who was stood waiting for her.

'What the hell happened?' Flack asked her, chasing after her, outside into the softly falling snow.

'She set me up, Don,' Taylor told him. 'And I fell for it hook, line and sinker.'

Flack let out a long breath. 'What did you say?'

'That I thought that Mac was going to do something stupid.'

Taylor,' Flack sighed, pulling her to one side.

'And to top it off, to stop myself looking crazy, I made myself look stupid. At least if I'd have admitted that I was there because a ghost told me, then looking crazy would have been to Mac's benefit. But no. '

'Detective Flack?'

The pair turned to see a man in a suit calling the detective over. 'That's Mac's Union Rep,' Flack muttered. 'I'm up after lunch. I was gonna suggest getting something to eat, but I think I'm gonna be busy.'

Taylor gave a small sigh. 'I need to go see how Stella's getting on anyway.'

'Taylor, please be careful,' Flack begged as he pressed his lips against her forehead.

---

'How was court?' Danny asked her as Taylor pulled off her jacket and unravelled her scarf.

'The investigator is a bitch,' Taylor told him bluntly.

Danny took one look at Taylor's expression and decided not to push the issue. 'The photographs should be developed about now. Want to come and have a look-see?'

'You're not scared I'm going to write about what I see and put it in the papers?'

Danny arched an eyebrow. 'Okay, maybe you should go and get some sleep.'

Taylor's eyes narrowed. 'Daniel Messer, if you think that-'

'Is there something going on here that we should know about?' Valens asked, preventing Taylor from unnecessarily chewing Danny a new one.

Danny quickly shook his head. 'The photographs should be ready.'

Stella looked between the three and frowned. 'So why are we standing out here?' she asked them, manoeuvring around them to grab at the photographs. She frowned as she realised what was on them.

Valens leant over and took the photographs from her hands. 'She was at your academy graduation. Erin Yates, or whoever she is, took that picture of you,' he said as he leafed through them. 'You're the only graduate on that role of film.'

Stella slowly shook her head. 'But I don't know Erin and I have no idea why she took these pictures!'

Valens dipped the papers to stare at the Greek detective. 'Every dot I connect here leads back to you.'

Stella snatched the photographs back off him. 'I don't have the answers you're looking for, Detective Valens. Believe me, I wish I did.'

'What are you hiding, Stella?'

'Nothing!' Stella cried. 'I'm not hiding anything.'

'Valens, if she says she doesn't know, she doesn't know,' Danny told him.

Valens turned to Stella. 'I agreed to let you work this case because you're a cop. I'm trying to go along with the way you guys work, but clearly, that's my mistake,' he told her, his temper rising. 'I'll be back in a couple of hours, but if you still ain't talking, maybe we should do this my way. In Philly,' he added before storming off, photographs clutched firmly in his hands.

Danny glanced at Taylor before the pair turned to Stella. 'What's going on? Stella, look at me. What's going on here?'

Stella slowly shook her head, clearly upset at what was happening. 'I don't know, Danny. That's the problem. I don't know!'

'We'll get to the bottom of this, Stell,' Taylor told her. 'We all know you didn't kill anyone.'

Stella gave her a smile. 'Thank you, Taylor.'

-----

She had been tempted to stay away, but Flack had been waiting outside for her whilst she'd been interrogated by the woman she was now referring to as 'the bitch' (and she wasn't particularly bothered about how mature that was at that point!), so the least that she could do was give Flack the same support. If only she could have managed it without being late and slinking into the room.

'The subsequent arrest and prosecution of Detective Truby resulted in several of his cases being overturned, isn't that right?' the bitch was asking.

Flack nodded. 'Yes. We discuss-'

'And one of those cases was the clay Dobson case?'

'That is correct.'

'Clay Dobson confessed to raping and killing several women,' the bitch said. 'Months after his release, he raped and killed another girl?'

'If it weren't for Detective Taylor-'

The bitch cut Flack of again. 'So as a result of Detective Taylor's actions a serial killer was released and he killed again. I tell you what?' she said quickly, cutting herself off. 'We'll get back to that. When you _eventually_ reached the roof that day, how would you describe Detective Taylor's demeanor?'

Flack stared at the woman, carefully weighing his reply. 'I would say he was shocked more than anything else.'

The bitch was on him in a shot. 'Shocked because he had just dropped a man from the roof?'

Flack shot her a scathing glare. 'Shocked because he had just seen a man jump off the roof,' he corrected her.

'A handcuffed and beaten man. You weren't there detective. Do you know as a fact that Clay Dobson jumped?

'No,' Flack admitted. 'But-'

'Thank you, Detective Flack.'

----

'You're right,' Flack fumed. 'The woman is a bitch.'

'I think I called her a _stupid_ bitch,' Taylor growled. The two were walking home, having decided that maybe the fresh air would clear their minds. Instead, they hadn't done much more than insult the departmental investigator, who, in all fairness, was only doing her job (and pretty well at that), but neither of them were in the mood to admit it. 'I'd like to see _her_ get pushed off a building.'

'He jumped,' Flack pointed out.

'Still doesn't mean I don't want to push her off a building,' Taylor grumbled as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. 'A tall one.'

'You know, after fifty feet, it doesn't make much difference how far they fall.'

Taylor slowly turned her head to look up at him.

'What?' he shrugged. 'It's true.'

'You spend too much time in that crime lab,' Taylor told him.

Flack stopped and held out his hand. 'Hi Pot, I'm Kettle.'

'Whatever,' Taylor sulked, walking on. Realizing Flack wasn't following, she stopped again and turned. 'Are you coming or-' Taylor spat the snow out of her mouth. 'Oh you didn't!' she cried, lunging for the nearest pile of snow and creating a snowball. Before she could turn to launch it, another was being thrown at her. 'You're going to pay for that!' she yelled, chasing after the laughing detective.

* * *

_First of all: HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope y'all had a good 'un, and I hope this year is better than the last one!_

_Secondly, a HUGE thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing, and to all you lurkers! But don't be afraid of dropping a line and letting me know what you think - I would love to hear from you!_


	200. If music is the victim then so am I

_ambercsiny - Hey, it makes me happy to hear that! Holidays were alright - I had a very nice Christmas dinner!_

_sparkyCSI - I am working on 206 as we speak (although I'm not sure if I've gone too... well, you'll see when you read it!)_

_demolished-soul - I have a lot going on in these chapters, but I'm sticking relitively close to the show for this._

_meadow567 - lol, they're ordering it in for me, and I got them to add miracle to the list too!_

_Well, still on the same spoilers, but I think I'm done with them after this chapter. After this, it's all mine for a while. And it's been a long time coming (in that it has literally been written and saved on my computer for the best part of two years!) Enjoy!_

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 199: If music is the victim then so am I**

Flack wrapped the towel around him and walked into the bedroom, pausing to laugh at the sight of his fiancée. She was lying face down in the middle of the bed, virtually spread eagle, save for her left hand, which was curled up in a fist by her face. Or would have been, had her head not been hidden under Flack's pillow. He lay down next to her, removing the pillow, and stared at her. She was frowning. Still smiling to himself, he brushed a tendril of hair out of her face.

'Stop it,' Taylor mumbled.

'What?'

'Watching me sleep. It's off-putting.'

Flack grinned. 'What would you say if I could watch you sleep all day?'

Taylor peeked open an eye. 'I'd call you a doofus.'

'You always call me a doofus,' Flack pointed out, still grinning.

'Fine,' Taylor stretched and rolled over onto her side. 'Then you would be a sap too.'

'A sap?'

'Oh, you know it,' Taylor told him. 'I can think of a hundred things that I would rather be doing with you in bed all day.'

Flack groaned. 'Tay, you can't be saying things like that to me.'

'And why would that be?' Taylor asked him, batting her eyelids at him as she tugged at the towel.

In a quick, fluid moment, Flack had Taylor's hands pinned above her head as he looked down at her. 'Because you are going to make me very late.'

----

He was right. He was late. As was Cordelia – so much for the early streak. Taylor, on the other hand, as she didn't exactly have to be in the 'office' for a certain time, headed in to turn in her latest assignment, leaving it to the last minute, as usual. On her way out, she was stopped by Sasha leaping in front of her.

'It's my birthday!'

Taylor grinned. 'I know, happy birthday,' she said, giving her friend a hug. 'But you're going to have to wait until this evening for your present.'

'Oh, I'm not bothered about presents. I just want you there.'

'And I will be,' Taylor promised.

'Good,' Sasha beamed. 'And I've sorted out the babysitter problem.'

Taylor arched an eyebrow.

'It turns out that there were a few people having problems finding sitters this close to Christmas, so I have arranged for a giant sleepover for all the kids, with plenty of supervision, so no one has to worry, and everybody can have a good time.'

'Sash, I would have found someone,' Taylor frowned.

'Yeah, but then you'd have been worried about what time to get home. Besides, this was selfish purely on my part – I want lots of people there!' Sasha gave another excited dance, hands clapping. 'But I have to go get ready. Gary will be around at yours about seven.'

'I can sort my own costume out as well, you know,' Taylor called after her. But that was lost, or ignored.

Shaking her head slightly, Taylor headed out and on towards the crime lab – she hadn't heard anything from Stella and she was curious as to how things were shaping up that end.

She found Stella in one of the evidence rooms (having been wandering around the lab for the past few days and not seeing Mac once, his orders of staying out of the lab were staying out of the lab with him.), the evidence from the '97 case laid out in front of her. 'Are you having any luck?'

Stella put down the jacket she was examining and sighed. 'No.'

'Is there anything I can do to help?' Taylor asked, knowing the answer before Stella shook her head.

'Not really. Not unless you have a method of convincing Valens I'm innocent.'

Taylor shook her head. 'No, but I can make him think I'm crazy.'

Stella gave her a smile. 'It's okay, I think I have something anyway,' she said as Scotty walked into the lab.

Valens nodded at both of them before his expression turned to a frown. 'We have forensic scientists in Philadelphia too.'

Stella gave him a look. 'Look, I'm not trying to insult anyone, and I'm sure everyone in your department is quite capable. It's just that I might be able to explain something they can't. Evidence without context to them might mean something to me.'

Valens waved his arms over the evidence. 'Well, go ahead, Stella. You're driving. The way you like it.'

Taylor gave him a glare. She was certain he was probably really good at his job, but he was also doing a really good job of rubbing not only Stella, but Taylor too, up the wrong way.

Stella's expression mirrored Taylors. 'Okay, well what did your people list as possible causes for this burning?' she asked, pointing at something on the jacket.

Valens shrugged. 'There's a lot of them.'

'Okay,' said Stella, drawing out the word. 'What about this pattern here?'

Valens leant over. 'Yeah, we looked at that,' he muttered, reaching for the notes. 'Yeah. Consistent with the pattern of a wide toothed comb, film, jewelry. Something stand out?'

Stella nodded. 'Yeah, film reel. Garth Bennett was a projectionist at a revival theatre.'

Taylor frowned. 'Garth Bennett?'

Stella turned to Taylor. 'Oh, I forgot, sorry. Erin is actually Mindy Sanchez. She and I lived together in foster care for a while. Marilyn and Garth Bennett were our foster parents.'

Taylor's eyes widened. 'You think your foster father killed Erin?'

Stella shrugged. 'I hope not.'

'Well I would rather he be the suspect than you,' Taylor shrugged. 'Come on, let's go.'

Valens pulled a face. 'Do the lab rats normally come with you? Where's Messer?'

'No they don't,' said Stella, giving Taylor a pointed look. 'Danny is in court.'

Taylor swore. 'I forgot about that.'

Stella gave her a smile. 'Why don't you head there and fill me in later.'

-----

Taylor was just leaving the lab when she spotted Lindsay. 'Yo! Montana!' she yelled, loud enough for half the passing commuters to stop and stairs.

Lindsay turned around with a look of disbelief. 'Montana? I thought I only got that off Danny.'

Taylor shrugged. 'Got your attention.'

'And what was that important that you needed my attention?'

'A party.'

Lindsay gave her a skeptical look. 'What party?'

'Sasha's birthday party.'

'When?' Lindsay asked.

'Tonight,' Taylor shrugged.

Lindsay shrugged. 'Sounds like fun. I could do with a night out. Although a little more notice would have been nice.'

Taylor grinned and made to walk away when she stopped. 'Oh, it's fancy dress. Rock star fancy dress,' she added.

'What?' Lindsay blinked.

Taylor quickly shook her head. 'You can't back out now. And at least you get to pick your own costume. Be at mine at seven?'

'Fine,' Lindsay muttered begrudgingly.

---

Taylor slipped into the court, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, considering the departmental bitch had already started interviewing Danny, sitting down beside Flack who gave her a smile.

'And how long have you worked with Detective Taylor?'

Danny shrugged. 'About five years now.'

The bitch looked over at him. 'So you would be able to testify as to his character?'

'Working side by side with someone long enough, you get to know them, yeah,' Danny agreed.

'Would you say he was intolerant of people who violated procedure?'

Danny frowned. 'Mac's a no-nonsense guy when it comes to the rules. But I wouldn't go so far as to say he's intolerant.'

The bitch took a moment to walk over to Danny. 'So at times he condones breaking the rules?'

'I didn't say that,' Danny objected, shaking his head.

'I understand you've been the subject of some controversy whilst working for Detective Taylor. Is that right?'

Danny cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. 'Yeah. Controversy.' He nodded. 'Uh-huh.'

'Can we please push her off a building?' Taylor hissed under her breath.

'It's ironic that Detective Taylor's chewed you out on more than one occasion for violating procedure and now he finds himself in this position, no?' Natalie continued.

Danny pulled a face. 'Is that an actual question?'

From the depths of Taylor's pockets, _Flagpole Sitta_ came blasting out. Flushing as everyone stared at her, she thrust her hands into her pockets, only just registering that Cory was calling her, before she rejected the call and turned the phone off. 'Sorry,' she muttered, feeling Flack wince next to her.

The bitch threw her a disapproving glare, then, determined not to let the interruption throw her, turned back to Danny. 'You knew Detective Taylor felt responsible for Mr. Dobson's release, didn't you?'

Danny's glasses almost slipped off his nose. 'Mr. Dobson? Is that what we're calling serial killers who cut the eyelids of off young girls so that they can watch their killer as they die? _Mr._ Dobson?'

'Did you know how he felt, detective?' Natalie pressed.

Danny drew a breath. 'I know Mac found evidence implicating a dirty cop, and he did exactly what he was supposed to do. Dobson's release, the attacks on the young girls – they're on Dobson's conscience, not Mac's.'

Feeling Flack tense up next to her, Taylor slid her hand onto his thigh and gave it a soft squeeze. Despite everything, he was clearly still feeling bad about what had happened.

The bitch walked back to the table and grabbed a file off it. 'Detective Messer, this is Clay Dobson's autopsy reports.' She handed the file over. 'Can you read the highlighted section on page twenty three?'

Danny nodded. 'Sure.'

Even Flack had to suppress a grin as Danny sat there in silence, reading the document in front of him.

Natalie rolled her eyes. 'Out loud, detective.'

'Out loud,' Danny nodded. 'Fractured nose, laceration over the left eye, multiple bruises to the ribs,' he listed.

'Clay Dobson landed on his back,' the bitch added, cutting Danny off. 'How does Detective Taylor's conscience strike you now?'

---

'That woman is a-'

'Bitch?' both Taylor and Flack offered as Danny met them outside.

Danny looked between the two of them. 'She got you two as well then?'

'You know that mood I was in yesterday?' Taylor asked him. 'That was her.'

'Ah,' Danny nodded in acknowledgement. He frowned and looked around. 'Has Mac actually made an appearance?'

Flack shook his head. 'Apart from the opening statement, to which he stormed out? No.'

Danny pulled a face. 'That doesn't really look good.'

Taylor sighed. Much as she couldn't stand Mac sometimes, at the end of the day, he was good at his job. And this behavior wasn't doing much to help.

'How's it going?' Stella asked, coming to join them.

'Break time, and then you're up,' Flack told her.

'And the interviewer is a bitch,' Taylor muttered.

'She can't be that bad?'

'Oh, that's the problem,' Danny muttered. 'She's _that_ good.'

'Oh dear,' Stella muttered.

'How's it going with Detective Valens?' Taylor asked her to change the subject.

Stella frowned. 'I think I'm in the clear.'

Taylor studied the curly haired woman as the two men wandered off. 'And yet you don't look as happy as I would expect.'

Stella shook her head. 'Let's just say it wasn't the result I was expecting.'

'Look, it's Sasha's birthday party tonight. Do you want to come?'

'Thanks,' said Stella. 'But there's something I need to do tonight, so I think I'll rain check.' She looked behind Taylor and smiled. 'Detective Valens.'

Taylor stepped back as he joined them.

'Hi.'

'So, you heading out?' Stella asked him.

Valens nodded. 'It's your case now.'

'The DNA came back on the arterial spray on the projection booth wall. Male. Same DNA that was on the turnpike evidence.'

'And since Garth Bennett's been missing for ten years,' Valens shrugged.

'It could be his,' Stella agreed. 'Of course, we don't have his body.'

'Your foster father?' Taylor gasped.

Stella nodded. 'It looks like it could be.'

'What about Marilyn?' asked Taylor.

'Well the clothes weren't her size. No evidence of her DNA on the coat, blouse, or knife.'

Valens drew a breath. 'So why did she clean up the crime scene if she didn't kill her husband?'

'Maybe she was protecting someone. There is that third DNA sample we haven't identified yet.'

'Erin Yates, aka, Mindy Sanchez. She runs away from foster care, uses a dead woman's identity,' he glanced down at the two women. 'She's going to be tough to find. Keep me posted.'

Stella nodded. 'Will do.'

Valens gave Stella a searching look. 'You know, one thing I never get used to working these cold jobs?'

'What's that?'

'They stir up the past,' Valens replied, although he was looking at Taylor.

Taylor gave him a smile, wondering what he was implying.

'You take care of yourself, detective,' said Stella, offering her hand.

Valens took it. 'You do the same.' He turned to Taylor. 'And you keep up with the good writing.' Without waiting for a response – which would have taken a while for Taylor to stop flapping her mouth about as it was – he turned and left.

'Detective Bonesara?'

Stella looked at the clerk that was calling her. 'I guess it's my turn.'

---

'There's no one in the department I trust more than Mac, both personally and professionally.'

Natalie smiled. 'So you would do or say anything you could to help him out if he was in a bind?'

'I wouldn't lie if that's what you're implying,' Stella replied, frowning at the woman.

'You work very closely with Detective Taylor. Is it fair to say Clay Dobson's release affected him… emotionally?'

Stella frowned. 'He was passionate about solving the case.'

'And were you with Detective Taylor in the hours before the incident on the roof?'

Stella nodded. 'Yes, we were in the basement of the Weddington where we had found one of Dobson's victims.'

Natalie smiled. 'While in the basement, did Detective Taylor leave unexpectedly?'

'Unexpectedly?' Stella shook her head. 'No. The victim identified Dobson as her attacker. Mac acted on the information.'

The bitch's smiled grew. 'But did he notify you, or any other member of the team?' She waited whilst Stella tried to work out how to answer the question. 'Detective… did he?'

Stella licked her lips. 'No, we turned around and he was gone.'

'So he violated department procedure?' she asked instantly.

'Under the circumstances, he-'

The bitch cut her off. 'Did he violate department procedure?'

Stella sighed. 'Yes.'

---

'That woman is-'

'A bitch?'

Stella frowned. 'Actually, I was going for good. She's very good.'

'And Mac is very screwed,' Danny muttered.

Stella looked around. 'Has he still not made an appearance?'

Flack shook his head. 'He's not answering his phone. I don't have a clue where he is.'

'I might,' Stella muttered as she disappeared.

'And I guess she's not going to share,' said Taylor as she watched her leave. She looked up at Flack. 'So, if you've been at court all day, does that mean you're going to come party with me?'

Flack looked at Danny before looking at Taylor. 'Actually, we agreed to go for drinks.'

'Oh,' Taylor mouthed. She shrugged. 'Well I guess it's a good job got Lindsay to agree to come then.'

'You don't mind?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Why should I? You two have fun, and maybe we can all meet up after.' She frowned. 'At least you get to escape dressing up as Madonna.'

'You're going as Madonna?' Danny asked.

Taylor sighed. 'Actually, I don't know who I'm going as. Gary won't tell me. But I wouldn't be surprised if it involved a conical bra, or something as elaborate.'

---

At the relentless hammering at the front door, Taylor hurried down the stairs; towel still wrapped around her, and poked the door open.

'You don't look ready for me,' Gary told her.

'You're early,' Taylor informed him before shutting the door to take the safety chain off. She stepped back to let him in, shivering at the icy wind that was leaking into the already cold hallway.

'You haven't decorated much,' Gary told her, looking around.

'Haven't had time,' Taylor shrugged, shutting the door. 'Kitchen's done. Cordy's room is done. The rest will come.'

'And where is the little princess?'

Taylor led him upstairs to the bedroom. 'Sasha organized a giant sleep over party for all the kids of the parents who were attending tonight. She didn't want any excuses.'

'And the blue eyed prince?'

Taylor smiled. 'Don has gone for a lad's night out.'

'And what does Miss Sasha think of this?' Gary asked her, eyebrows arched at the 'scandal'.

'She thought he was working to start with,' Taylor shrugged. 'It's not been a great week, and if he wants to get drunk with the boys then he can go ahead and get out of dressing like Madonna.'

'Oh, I would never have had him dressed as Madonna,' Gary told her with a small smirk. 'And neither are you, for that matter.'

Taylor eyed him and the suit cover he was holding. 'Something tells me to be scared.'

Gary shook his head as the doorbell rang. 'Right. You put this on, I'll get that.'

Taylor glanced at the clock. 'It's probably Lindsay.'

'And I'll probably find that out,' Gary told her as the doorbell rang again. 'Get your scrawny ass in that bathroom and get dressed. I'll sort out the wig after.'

'Wig?' Taylor repeated, but Gary was already halfway down the stairs.

---

'You know Christina's a blonde, don't you, Gary,' Taylor grumbled as she emerged from the bathroom.

'I could dress you up as Britney in that school girl outfit,' Gary told her.

'She's also blonde!'

'Taylor, you look hot,' Lindsay exclaimed.

'For now,' Taylor muttered. 'But it's gotta be ten below out there at least. I'll look like a popsicle.'

Gary rolled his eyes. 'You're going as Christina Aguilera and that's that. Do you know how long it took me to find those chaps?'

Taylor glared at him. 'What are you on about? These are probably out of your own closet.'

'Oh darling, mine are blue,' Gary informed her, clinking wine glasses with Lindsay – they'd appeared about the same time the mousy haired...

'Linds, you look incredible,' Taylor told her. Gone was Lindsay's mousy brown hair, to be replaced with a fiery wig of reds, oranges and yellows.

Lindsay shrugged. 'I was going to cheat and wear the same outfit I wore to my birthday, but I saw the wig on the way home and thought, "What the heck?".'

'You suit the punk look,' Gary agreed. 'I don't think I could have done a better job. Hayley Williams, right?'

Lindsay nodded. 'But I really was going to go for a pair of daisy dukes and a vest top and claim to be Dolly Parton or something.'

'I prefer that look,' Taylor told her, heading over and grabbing the bottle of wine.

'Drinking out of the bottle isn't very lady like,' Gary chided.

'Gary, I'm wearing a bikini and a pair of chaps. I need some liquid courage and a beer coat before I step outside.'

'All you need is a wig, and you will look fabulous. No one will recognize you.'

'Good,' Taylor muttered, plunking herself down in front of the mirror, allowing Gary to pull her hair back before fixing the wig in place. Admittedly, when she looked in the mirror, she didn't look too bad – if the party had been in the summer. 'Who is Sasha going as?'

'She wanted big and sparkly,' Gary shrugged. 'Diana Ross. And now, my pop rock princesses, I must go home and work some magic on myself.'

'And who are you going as?' asked Lindsay.

'That is a surprise,' he winked over his shoulder as he sashayed out of the door.

Gone, Taylor turned to Lindsay. 'Alright, how stupid do I look?'

'You do actually look good,' Lindsay reassured her. 'It's a shame you don't have some colored contacts.'

---

By midnight, Taylor was no longer feeling conscious of what she was wearing. Not only was she quite drunk, but it turned out that she was actually wearing some of the less 'elaborate' costumes.

'Taylor, I think I need to bail,' Lindsay told her, looking up from her phone.

'Is something wrong?'

Lindsay shook her head. 'I don't think I can handle too much more, and Danny's going to swing by and we can share a cab.'

Taylor glanced at her phone to check the time. 'I don't think Sasha will forgive me if I leave this early. I promised I'd help her get her presents home. And herself.' She frowned. 'Maybe I should switch to something virgin, otherwise I'm not going to be able to handle much more.'

'You don't mind?'

Taylor shook her head. 'No, I'm just grateful you came to start with. The last thing I wanted was to walk in here by myself.'

She waited with Lindsay until a cab pulled up and Danny's clearly drunken head was stuck out of the window, yelling it was time to get home. Giving the pair a wave, she hurried back into the club, out of the snow and back into the warmth, heading straight for the bar where it was quieter.

'You look like you need a drink.'

Taylor turned to the guy sat next to her. 'Actually, I think I need to hit the non-alcoholic drinks.'

'Let me get that for you,' he offered, motioning the barmaid over.

'I have a boyfriend, you know,' Taylor smiled politely at the man.

The man shrugged at her, 'I'm just offering a drink. You look like you need it.'

Taylor looked at him. He looked a little rugged, but harmless enough. 'So which music artist are you supposed to be?' she asked him as she sat down next to him.

'I decided to go for Axl Rose,' he told her as he slid the orange juice over to her. 'No guesses as to who you are.'

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Not my idea,' she frowned. She was about to grumble about Gary when her phone rang. 'Excuse me,' she told him, grabbing it out of her pocket and sliding off the seat. She returned minutes later. 'Boyfriend,' she explained.

'Everything alright?'

Taylor nodded, taking a sip of the drink. 'Yeah, he was just telling me to call him when I was done.'

'So do you feel as out of place as I do here?' he asked her.

'I'm dressed in chaps and a bikini,' she told him dryly, taking another mouthful of juice. 'How do you know Sasha?'

'Friend of a friend,' he smiled.

---

A short while later, and Taylor wasn't feeling too well. 'Excuse me,' she muttered to her companion as she grabbed her bag and headed for the bathroom, stumbling slightly as she went. She hadn't drunk much but the party was turning into a swirling blur.

Taylor pushed open one of the doors and found herself greeted by a blast of cold air. She had clearly picked the wrong door, and ended up outside, but she didn't feel any worse for it. Taylor looked up the alley and saw a taxi head past on the road. Maybe it was time to go home.

She was pulling her cell phone out of her bag when the world decided to turn upside down on her.


	201. I thought it was over but it's not

_Trizzy - lol you've made me have scorpion in my head for days! I was more for Whitesnake and Journey, but I know what you mean. I hope I haven't left it too long for you. _

_sparky - I have no idea why I picked that song, but it felt right. I'm trying to get some more writing done tonight - it's nice not to be writing application forms and letters out. So sick of job hunting - why wont someone just give me a job already??_

_ambercsiny - Aw, but I love cliff hangers! Unless it's on TV and I have to wait until after the christmas holidays to find out what happens. And you're so right!_

_Bmangaka - have you hacked into my computer and read what I've written? lol_

_demolished-soul - yeah, she's gonna learn one day!_

_RK9 - lol, Nixon doesn't count. Hi'ya Seymour! Of course he can!_

_meadow567 - one job and I still keep you waiting. I need to get back into a routine. But your first option was right!_

_AngelicStars - I have been writing this for ages, and I can't see me ending it any time soon - i'm just gonna have to write quicker. I think I must have been listening to Riot, lol!_

_Okely dokely = big thanks to sparky for being an awesome beta. Other than that - enjoy!_

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 200: I thought it was over but it's not**

Flack yawned as the taxi pulled up outside the house. It was nearly four am already and he was exhausted. He paid the taxi driver and was about to get out of the car when he did a double take at the clock. It was that time already and Taylor still hadn't called him?

He pulled out his phone and called, but it directed him straight to Taylor's voicemail. With a frown, he hung up and was about to dial Lindsay when he realized there was someone pacing up and down in the snow, stamping her feet and rubbing her hands against the cold. 'SSA Reid?'

'Is Taylor with you?' the redhead asked him, worried enough that she didn't correct Flack about her new title.

Flack shook his head. 'I'm hoping she's inside in bed.'

Cory looked up at the unlit house. 'I've been out here for ages. She hasn't been answering the door, or her phone.'

Flack thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Within seconds the door was open and he was running up the stairs, shouting Taylor's name as he went. It took him even less time to realize that she wasn't there. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. 'Okay,' he said, more to himself, rather than the FBI agent who was stood behind him. 'Taylor may be ditsy, but she's not stupid... Lindsay.' He pulled his phone back out and scrolled down to Lindsay's number before hitting dial. 'Lindsay?'

'_Nope,_' came Danny's groggy voice, '_It's Danny. What's the matter, Flack? It's four in the morning.'_

'Are you with Lindsay?'

'_No, I just keep hold of her phone._'

'Funny, Messer. What time did she leave the party?'

Danny yawned. '_I picked her up not long after I left you. About 1?'_

'Where was Taylor?"

'_Hang on, I'm passing you over to Lindsay.'_ There was a sound of rustling and then Lindsay's voice came over the line. '_Flack?'_

'Hey Linds. I don't suppose you know where Taylor is, do you?' he asked as he made his way back down the stairs.

'_She mentioned something about staying to help Sasha move her presents. She was pretty intent on sobering up when we left.'_ There was a brief pause. _'Actually, Sasha looked pretty wasted. Maybe she went back to hers?'_

'Thanks Lindsay.' He hung up and began rooting around for Taylor's laptop, knowing she stored all her phone numbers on it. As it was booting up, he looked over the top of it at the agent who was watching him with a worried expression. 'Do you know something I should?'

Cory slowly nodded. 'Yes, and I sincerely hope it's not related to Taylor's sudden disappearance.

---

Taylor awoke on a mattress that was as cold and damp as she felt, and had no idea where she was. She wasn't entirely surprised to begin with considering the fact that she never remembered where she fell asleep when she had been drinking, but as she pulled herself to a sitting position, and rubbed at her eyes, she realized that she really didn't have a clue where she was or how she got there.

She was in a bedroom. Well, that was one description for it. There was a bed in the room, but other than a bucket and a dim light with no shade, there was nothing else in there other than dirt and a boarded up window.

Taylor shivered, and started to scuffle backwards, until something stopped her right ankle from moving any further back. As a very bad feeling started to rise up in her stomach, she looked down and pulled up the bottom of her chaps. Where her boot should have been was a shackle, attacked to a very heavy chain, which was, in turn, attached to the foot of the bed.

Taylor stared at it, urging her mouth to catch up with her brain, until finally she found her voice and started screaming for help as she began yanking at the chain.

There was a loud clanking sound before the door opened and the man whom she had been talking to at the bar came in.

Taylor stopped screaming. 'You?'

"Axl" nodded.

'What do you want from me?'

"Axl" smiled. 'I, personally, don't want anything from you. But my brother wants something from your friends.'

'Your brother?' Taylor repeated, feeling a lump rising in her throat as she blinked back the tears.

'You might know him. Felix Bohr.'

Taylor felt the blood drain out of her face.

'I'll take that as a yes, then.

'Reggie?' Taylor asked, suddenly realizing the reason why "Axl" looked so familiar.

Reggie nodded.

Taylor stared at him for a moment longer before she started screaming for help again. But Reggie just stood there and watched her, a small smile on his face. Nevertheless, it wasn't until Taylor's throat felt raw, that she stopped.

'You can scream all you want, but no one will hear you,' Reggie told her.

'This is New York,' Taylor told him, her voice hoarse. 'Someone will hear me.'

'You're wrong on both accounts,' Reggie told her as he moved towards the bed, leaning in so that he was inches from Taylor. 'You're not in New York, and no one's going to hear you.'

Taylor, who had tried to move as far away from Reggie as she could when he had moved towards her, leapt at him, raking her nails across his neck as she tried to do anything to try to free herself.

Reggie, in one quick movement had picked her up and flung her back on the bed, against the wall. 'That wasn't a very clever move,' he hissed at her, as he felt his neck. He looked at his fingers and the small amount of blood on them. 'No one knows you're here, sweetheart, and you know what I look like. Now, you can either behave, or this can become a very painful experience for you.'

Taylor watched him leave, her head pounding from where it had hit the wall when he had thrown her. She gingerly pulled her legs up under her chin – the throw had also made the chain yank at her ankle, as well as knocking her elbow – and wrapped her arms around herself.

---

'Felix Bohr?' Flack repeated, staring at Cory in disbelief.

Cory nodded. 'It was there the whole time. I just couldn't understand Taylor's own version of shorthand.'

'Let me get this straight,' said Flack. 'Taylor has been researching the four major gangs in New York ever since Louie was in hospital.'

Cory nodded.

'And she managed to get a contact within the Brooklyn Bullets, who was feeding her information on what Tanglewood's movements were.'

Again, Cory nodded.

'But this contact is actually Felix Bohr.'

'My rogue UC, Antony Carlise, yes,' Cory admitted. 'The two have been in contact from the beginning, although it looks like they only ever spoke with each other over the phone and via email.'

'About the drugs being distributed across the city?'

Cory nodded, perching on the arm of the couch with a sigh.

'And you think that Taylor might be in danger because she knows too much?'

'I had my lab techs run a trace on the email address that Bohr was using to communicate with Taylor. He slipped up. Once. He used his work computer to send the email. The tech did a search of his computer – Bohr didn't have time to wipe the memory properly at the time. There was an email to his half-brother, Reggie Portwood.'

'Leader of the Brooklyn Bullets?' Flack asked, the anger building up inside of him.

'Taylor knows too much. Bohr had hacked into Taylor's computer. He seen all the information stored on there.'

Flack looked down at the laptop in his hands and slammed the computer shut. He was up in a shot, striding to the door.

'Where are you going?' Cory asked as she leapt to her feet to follow him.

'To get this laptop to _my_ tech,' he told her.

'My tech's are some of the best in the country,' Cory told him, following him out of the house. 'They struggled to find anything on Bohr's.'

'Yeah, well your techs don't have Adam Ross working for them. If anyone can find anything on this, he can.' He stopped suddenly and whirled around so that his face was inches from Cory's, his face black as thunder. 'And you'd better pray to whichever god you pray to that he finds something. Because if he doesn't, I'm going to hold you,' he jabbed her in the chest. 'Personally responsible if something happens to her, God help me.'

Cory struggled to hold back her anger, but slipped a little bit. "Look, _Detective,_" she drawled. "It's not my fault; I'm not the bad guy here, but let me tell you something. You lay a hand on me again and you might just lose it." Cory stared him in his eyes, letting all the anger she had been holding on to show in her eyes. "This is not accomplishing anything, so do you want to stand here and threaten me or find your girlfriend? Your choice," she finally spat out in a carefully controlled voice.

'You just want to be thankful that threatening is all I'm doing at this point, Reid,' he growled back at her.

---

Stella was staring absently through her window at the snow which was falling in bright swirls across the city when a knock at the door broke her from her thoughts. She looked up to find a somewhat scared looking Adam waiting for her to acknowledge him. She gave him a smile and he walked in. 'You're here late,' she told him as she glanced at the clock.

Adam gave her a nervous smile. 'We're a little backed up with everyone busy with Mac's hearing.'

'That's true,' she sighed. 'What's up?'

'I just wanted to apologize,' he muttered, fidgeting on the spot.

Stella frowned. 'Apologize for what?'

'Letting your secret out,' he said, indicating to Stella's stomach which she was unconsciously holding.

'It's alright, Adam,' she reassured him. 'It would have come out eventually.'

'Adam, I need you to take a look at this,' Flack barked as he burst into the room, holding Taylor's laptop out in front of him.

'Flack, what the hell's the matter?' Stella asked, rising to her feet.

'Bohr is back, Taylor is missing, and the answer to her whereabouts is either on this laptop, or that FBI agent is withholding something.'

Stella glanced behind Flack at Cory who was pacing up and down in the corridor, her blackberry firmly at her ear. 'Don, you need to take a minute. Do we know for certain that Taylor has been taken?'

'No, but-'

'Right, Adam, you have a look at that laptop. Don, have you been to the club where the party was? Have you spoken to anyone that was there?'

He shook his head. 'Just Lindsay. She left Taylor about one.'

'Right, you call Danny and Lindsay and get them in. I'll call Hawkes and get him to swing by the club.'

'What about Mac?'

Stella frowned. 'I think I know where he is.'

----

Mac strode through the up-market café to where he had spotted Gerrard and Sinclair. After seeing Truby, and then his conversation with Stella, if there was one thing he was certain of – this was going to end. And if he had to play by their rules, damn it, he would.

'Detective Taylor,' Sinclair greeted him as Mac pulled out one of the free seats and sat down with them.

'Good news – I've made a decision. I'm going to testify,' he informed them calmly.

Sinclair set his coffee down. 'That's great. Thanks for coming by so early in the morning to tell us that.

Mac shook his head. 'Oh, hang on. I'm not done. I'm gonna testify in the departmental hearing against him,' he said, pointing at Gerrard.

'What the hell are you talking about?' Gerrard asked with a somewhat nervous chuckle. 'All those chemicals in the lab getting to your brain, Taylor?'

Mac turned to the Inspector. 'Tell him about Dobson. About the original arrest.'

Sinclair looked at his colleague. 'What's going on? What's he talking about, Stan?'

'Nothing,' said Gerrard, shaking his head. 'He's desperate.'

Mac shrugged. 'You wanna tell him, or should I?'

Sinclair's eyes narrowed. 'Tell me what, Stan?' he pressed.

Mac leant back in his chair. 'Let me tell him. I like the story. When Dobson was originally arrested he was brought to the 3-5 for processing. The 3-5? You guys are familiar with the 3-5, right? You were a lieutenant there, right Stan?' he asked, looking at the inspector. 'And correct me I'm wrong, you were CO?' Mac smiled, clasping his hands together. 'It's the little things that always come back to bite you. Safe guard your prisoner. One of the first things you learn at the academy.'

'I've had enough,' Sinclair interrupted. 'So what are you getting at, Taylor?'

'When Truby put Dobson in a holding cell,' Mac continued. 'He forgot to remove Dobson's belt. When no one was looking, Dobson tied his belt to the bars and tried to hang himself. He'd rather die than go to prison, but someone saw him and released the belt before he completed the act. Failure to safeguard your prisoner can result in serious disciplinary action,' he added.

Sinclair shrugged. 'So Truby yet again proved that he's a disgrace to the badge.'

Mac shook his head, smiling. 'Gerrard covered it up.'

'He's lying,' Gerrard scoffed. 'Who told you that? Truby? You gonna believe that lying bastard?'

Mac leant forward. 'No, but I believe your fingerprints on Dobson's belt. And I think the courts might believe that too.' He leant back into his chair. 'Now, we can either drop this whole charade, or we can bring this to the table.' He rose to his feet. 'You know where I'll be.' He smiled at them, grabbed a slice of toast from the table and left.

Almost straight away he met Stella. 'You've learnt how to play the game, haven't you?' she asked him, eyeing him suspiciously.

'And I have no plans to do that again.' He gave her a sideways glance. 'But I suspect that's not why you came to find me?'

Stella shook her head. 'That FBI agent found some information about Bohr,' she said, before quickly filling him in.

'And there's still no word from Taylor?'

'Flack is supposed to call me if he hears anything.'

Mac nodded. 'Right, I want Hawkes and Angell at the club she was last seen at, a uniform at their place, and get Danny to run a trace on her cell phone. Get Lindsay down to the cab companies – it's possible that she got a ride somewhere, with someone other than Flack. I want to talk to that agent.' He frowned. 'Let's hope we're just over-reacting and this is a coincidence.

---

When Taylor had finally calmed down and her head wasn't throbbing as much, she wiped her eyes and looked around the room in the dim light the light bulb was offering. The only other thing that seemed to be in it was a black thing in the far corner. The thing, she suddenly realized, was her bag. Taylor bounded off the bed, only to fall into a heap with as small yelp of pain, as her ankle refused to support her.

From the floor, Taylor pulled her the bottom of her chaps up again. Reggie throwing her across the room had clearly done something to it as it was swollen and, as she stared at it, realized it was also extremely painful underneath the shackle. Pushing that to the back of her mind, Taylor turned her attention back to her bag. If she could reach it, she could grab her cell phone.

She stretched out as far as she could, but she was still a couple of feet short. Gritting her teeth, Taylor got to her feet and headed back to the bed. Upon examination, she discovered that it wasn't attached to the floor, although the chain was firmly attached to the bed. Using all the strength she could muster, Taylor leant back and tried to pull the bed. It moved an inch before her ankle gave out on her and she fell back to the floor.

Still determined, Taylor got back to her feet and began pulling again, ignoring the pain as she used her feet to make a firm footing on the floor. Slowly the bed began to inch across the floor until she dropped to the floor out of sheer exhaustion. The bed was a lot heavier than it looked. As she caught her breath, she realized that the bed had only moved a foot and she was still a foot short of her bag. And there was no way she could physically move it any more.

Not only was her ankle in agony, but her wrist which she had broken so many times in the past, was also extremely tender. With a cry of frustration, Taylor swiped at the closest thing to her. The unfortunate item to feel the brunt of her irritation was the plastic bucket, of which the handle fell off as it hit the wall.

Taylor swallowed and grabbed the handle. It looked like it was just long enough…. She stretched out across the floor, again ignoring the pain in her ankle, so that she was stretched as far as she could, pulling against the chain, and with her hands only just holding onto the handle, finally hooked it over the bag handle and dragged it slowly towards it. As her fingers curled around the leather, she let out a loud sigh of relief and relaxed, rolling onto her back.

And then there was the sound of the door being unlocked. Taylor leapt to her feet and onto the bed, only just managing to sit on the purse before Reggie re-entered the room.

He looked at the bed and smiled, 'Do you really think I'd leave you with anything of use in here?'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Taylor told him as she tried to calm her breathing.

'Yes you do,' Reggie told her. 'But that's alright. You'll find out soon enough.'

'What do you want from me?' Taylor asked him, feeling uneasy.

'I've already told you: I don't want anything from you. We're going to kill you. We're just going to cause some pain before we do it.' Reggie smiled at her before turning and leaving.

As soon as Taylor heard the door lock, she pulled the bag out from under her and tore it open. Inside were a couple of bills, her driver's license, lip gloss… and her cell phone. She pulled it out and tried to turn it open. Only, she discovered, the battery and SIM card had been removed.

---

Danny Messer was sat at his computer running background checks on the guests at the party, and so far they were all checking out. His eyes were feeling sore from staring at the computer screen for so long, but he wasn't going to take a break until he knew Taylor was alright. He pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, and as he set them back on his face, his computer pinged at him. But it wasn't a hit. It was an email alert. From Louie Messer.

Danny could feel the blood drain from his face as he clicked it open. He quickly read the message before leaping out of his chair and running to trace lab where Mac was processing the evidence from the club with Lindsay.

'What's the matter, Danny?' Lindsay asked, seeing how pale and ruffled he looked.

Mac looked over at him, 'Danny?'

'I got an email. From Louie.'

'Danny, Louie's dead,' Lindsay told him gently.

'I know that,' Danny snapped at her, 'God, I know that. But this message came from Louie's account, and I think you should see this.' He turned and headed back out of the lab.

Mac and Lindsay looked at each other and ripped off their gloves and hurried out after him.

* * *

_I did it... 200 freakin' chapters! I just hope y'all are enjoying it as much as you were 199 chapters ago! Thanks for all your continued support!_


	202. The tombstones were waiting they were

_demolished-soul - Thank you. I never thought I would make it at several points, but I'm glad you're still reading!_

_Madison Bellows - Sometimes I am so mean - to my readers and to Taylor. But I will make it alright for everyone soon. I hope! Glad you're still liking it!_

_Trizzy - And now I have Whitesnake in my head. Grrr! But I will let you off - because I think I have a few more cliffhangers. But there's no Sly. There's not even a hint of a racoon for comedy relief. I also think that they are two very important pieces of advice to take away from this. Did you need saving, or did your costume do it for you?_

_Bmangaka - I can't tell you that - You're gonna find out in a chapter or two anyway!_

_ambercsiny - Alas, it is one of several cliffhangers over then next few chapters - I'm afraid I am that mean!_

_meadow567 - It's already written for the next ten-ish chapters anyway. I just have issues finding time to update. Which I don't understand. I feel like I have less time having no job then I did when I had two!_

_RK9 - I am indeed going to use him. You're gonna find out in... however long it takes to read this chapter... where Taylor is! Seymour arrived safely and is currently playing with the rabbits!_

_sparkyCSI - I meant to ask - is your leg any better?? Don't worry about it - I sometimes read yours and realise the same thing, and that's even with me reading them aloud!_

_Alana Xavier1 - I am being mean. You have no idea how many times I have toyed with that idea, either!_

_Well, no spoilers, just thanks to my beta!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 201: The tombstones were waiting; they were half-engraved. They knew it was over, just didn't know the date**

"It's from Louie's account,' Adam told them. He was sat at his computer, the email open on his screen, whilst Mac, Stella, Hawkes, Lindsay, Danny, Angell, Cory and Flack were all stood around behind him, reading the message.

_You want her back, you release Zach Lively, Aaron Foster, Dale Owens and Karl Dunn._

"Have you opened the attachment yet?' Mac asked Adam.

Adam shook his head, 'I thought I would wait for everyone to get here,' he told him, looking uncomfortably at Flack, who was staring expressionlessly at the screen.

'Open it,' Stella told him softly.

Adam nodded and clicked on the attachment. It opened and started playing.

'What the hell is that?' asked Danny.

The video on the screen was so dim that the eight of them were struggling to see what was happening.

'Hang on,' muttered Adam as he hit a few buttons. The screen brightened, throwing the colours slightly out, but it was easier to see the image.

'Who is that?' Hawkes asked, staring at the blonde woman who was huddled up on a filthy iron bed.

The woman lifted her head from her arms.

'Taylor!' Flack cried, stepping towards the monitor.

Taylor wiped her eyes and stared across the room at something just out of sight below the camera. She leapt of the bed, only to collapse straight onto the floor in pain.

The team stood transfixed as she struggled to move the bed, and reach the item, before bouncing back onto the bed and hiding the bag.

'What's going on?' asked Angell as she moved closer to the monitor.

'She's saying something,' Stella muttered, peering at the screen. 'There's someone in there with her.'

'Adam?' Mac spoke.

'It's a delayed feed,' Adam told them as he began fiddling with various buttons. 'It looks like its being streamed from somewhere on an hour delay. I can't do anything with the camera.' He paused to watch Taylor rip open her bag, pull open a cell phone and launch it against the far wall, before she slumped back against the wall, crying.

'Where's it coming from?' Lindsay asked him, still staring at the screen.

Adam shrugged, 'I don't know. The IP address of the attachment doesn't seem to match the IP address of the email. It looks like the email was forwarded on from a mobile address.'

'How can you have a mobile address?' Angell asked.

'Wireless, WAP, even just a virus could be doing this.'

'Adam, find out where that's coming from,' Mac told him. He turned and surveyed the group, 'Sheldon, help Adam. Stella, I want you to finish processing the evide-' He frowned, 'Where's Flack?' Barely waiting for an answer he rushed out of the room and over to the elevator, only just sticking his arm in it to stop it closing in time. 'Where are you going?'

"I am going to find the son-of-a-"

'You are going nowhere, Flack. You're staying here with Danny.'

'Mac,' Flack began.

'Don't make me call Gerrard,' Mac warned him. 'Because you can trust me when I say, he's already in a bad mood.'

Flack glared at him, before finally relenting. 'You find her, Mac.'

'Come on, Flack,' said Danny, who had been just behind watching the exchange. 'You can help me run through the suspect list.'

---

Taylor stared at the ceiling, her tears had finally stopped, only to make her face feel tight. The room was freezing. Every so often, a gust of wind would blow through the window, sending in little flurries of snow with it, but the fact she was wearing very little, and was hungry, was making her feel even worse. She rolled miserably onto her side. The only benefit to feeling so cold was that her ankle was feeling numb,

It wasn't until she rolled onto her side and ran her fingers through her hair that she realized that she was still wearing her wig. She pulled it off and stared glumly at it. 'I shouldn't have gone out last night,' she muttered to herself. 'I should have just…' she trailed off as her eyes landed on something poking out of her wig – one of the hair pins.

Alright, so it was a bit of a long shot, but all the same, it made Taylor's heart leap. She pulled it out and began to feel it around the lock of the shackle, praying that something would happen. Something did. But it wasn't the result she was hoping for.

There was a rattle at the door as someone began to unlock it. Hastily, Taylor stuck the grip in her bra and wrapped her arms around her knees. Seconds later, Reggie burst into the room.

'Hand it over,' he demanded, taking a few steps into the room.

'What?' Taylor asked him. 'I don't have anything.'

Before Taylor could process what was happening, Reggie was in front of the bed in an instant, and then his right hand was clamped around her throat as he pinned her to the wall. 'Do I look like I have the time or the patience to be playing games with you?' he hissed in her ear, before reaching over and grabbing the wig with his other hand. 'This. You pulled something from this.'

Taylor, who was clawing in vain at the man's arm, tried to shake her head and tell him it was nothing, but all she managed was a small croak.

Reggie tightened his grip. 'The only thing that is stopping me from killing you right now is the fact that I need you alive. But that doesn't mean that I won't make your life very painful in the meantime. And I have several boys out there with me who would love an introduction.'

Taylor managed to tear her eyes away from him long enough to glance at the door. She flicked her eyes back to him and nodded.

Reggie gave her throat one last squeeze before allowing her to drop back to the bed.

The release of her throat made Taylor cough and her first instinct was to rub it, but she instead pulled out the hair pin.

Reggie snatched it off her and stared at it. And then he shoved her so she was lying down on the mattress and straddled her.

'No, please,' Taylor begged.

Reggie smirked, 'Not yet,' he told her. 'I'm just making sure that there are no more of these things,' he indicated to the grip, before he began to run his fingers through her hair and then pat down her body.

---

'Zach Lively, Aaron Foster, Dale Owens and Karl Dunn,' Stella read, looking back at the email. 'Do we know who they are?'

Lindsay looked up from the computer she was sat at. 'Inmates at Sing Sing. All in for a drug bust a while back. Due for release in a few years.'

'This makes no sense,' Cory muttered, pacing the room. 'They're all members of the Bullets, but they're nobodies; low down the food chain. The fact that their release date isn't too far off… why would you want to release people who are going to be getting out soon anyway?'

'They wouldn't,' said Stella, catching on to her train of thought.

'No,' Cory agreed. 'This is just a diversion.'

'A diversion for what?' Adam asked, his gaze leaving the screen with Taylor's image on it for the briefest of seconds.

Cory sighed, raking a hand through her hair. 'That there's hope.'

Adam looked at her, his face pale. 'You don't think she's coming out of this?'

Cory shook her head. 'I pray to God I'm wrong, but I don't think she is.'

Adam turned back to the monitor and yelped. 'He's back.'

Mac watched the screen in horror. 'Angell, make sure Flack doesn't come anywhere near this room,' he told her, as he watched Reggie pat Taylor down.

Angell nodded and hurried out.

Cory stared at the images on the screen, and slowly her eyes narrowed. 'That's it,' she declared. 'Adam, what have you found on Taylor's laptop?'

Adam looked over at her in shock and managed little more than to blink.

'The laptop, Adam,' Cory repeated firmly.

Adam shot a sideways glance at Mac, who nodded, and pulled the item over. 'Someone has definitely hacked this. And they're good, because I put a decent firewall in for her.' He sighed and hung his head. 'I guess it wasn't good enough.'

'Adam, this guy has had half the FBI at his disposal for who knows how long,' Stella told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. 'Don't start blaming yourself now.'

Cory pursed her lips, choosing to ignore the dig. 'Can you trace it?'

'It's coming from the same WAP IP,' he shrugged.

'Correct me if I'm wrong,' Flack announced, appearing in the doorway, a slightly harassed looking Angell and Danny behind him. 'But if it's WAP, it's coming from a cell phone?'

Adam nodded. 'Yeah.'

'So surely you can trace that back to the,' he stopped as he suddenly spotted what was going on, on the monitor.

Mac spotted his hands curling up into fists. 'Trace it back to?' he encouraged the detective who was now shaking in rage.

'Trace it back to a service provider. And then to a cell phone number.'

Adam's jaw dropped open. 'How didn't I see that?'

'Because sometimes you're too smart,' Stella told him.

Wordlessly, he returned to his computer. The team watched as his fingers flew across the keyboard. Finally a number pinged up on the screen.

'That's Louie's number,' Danny cried. 'He's dead and they're still trying to tarnish his name.'

'What are they trying to accomplish?' Lindsay asked.

Cory gave a dry laugh. 'We ruined their plans; we've made their lives difficult. And now they're doing the same to us.'

'Correct me if I'm wrong,' Flack spoke up, his voice cold. 'But you were the one that screwed things up. You're the one that's put Taylor in that position.'

'Flack,' said Mac a low warning tone to his voice.

Flack shook his head, brushing it off. 'No, Mac. It's her fault. Taylor comes in here time after time, putting her life in danger to help. And you come along,' he accused, jabbing his finger at Cory as he closed the space between them. 'You stick your nose in and the next thing we know, Taylor's getting heat left right and centre, and she's the brunt of an retaliation attack on _you_.'

Cory was almost a foot smaller than Flack, but with the way she held herself, refusing to back down, it almost seemed they were at the same level. 'You underestimate your girlfriend, detective. She had all this information herself, and eventually, she would have come to you with it as soon as she realized the significance of it. Maybe I'm a catalyst, but I am not the reason she's there. And for the record,' she snapped. 'The only reason Taylor was getting heat, was because she sticking herself in situations she shouldn't be in. And that's the reason she keeps putting her life in danger. In fact,' she added. 'Maybe the reason she's there is because of you, because if you stopped her doing all the things she shouldn't, then she wouldn't have been communicating with gang leaders.'

'Don't you dare try and shift the blame back on me,' Flack shouted at her. 'This,' he waved at the screens. 'This whole situation feels like payback to all of us. _But_ you. Where's your punishment for ruining Bohr's plans?'

Cory clenched her fists, about to tell him exactly where he could put his uninformed beliefs when her view of him was blocked.

'That's enough,' Stella snapped, coming between the two. 'We are not going to play a blame game. Taylor's stubborn and determined enough that she would have uncovered this, with or without anybody's consent. The thing that Bohr doesn't realize is that we're just as determined.'

'Um, I've narrowed down the tower the video is streaming from,' Adam interrupted them nervously.

'Nice one, Adam,' Danny muttered.

Cory and Flack continued to glare at each other, breathing heavily. Flack was the first to move. 'Where is she?'

'You're not going to believe this,' Lindsay muttered, pointing to the map.

The monitor was showing a map of upstate New York, a single pulsating dot with a four mile wide circle highlighting that the signal was coming from _somewhere_ in there. Next to the dot were two words. _Sparkill Creek_.

---

Taylor was curled up in the fetal position, staring dejectedly at the far wall. She hadn't moved from that position since Reggie had left her. She was trying to keep hopeful that her friends were going to find her, but, currently she was losing faith. She had been there for who-knows how long – she'd been unconscious for some of it and the light bulb wasn't giving too much away on the time of day.

Before Reggie had left the last time, he had promised her that he would follow through with his threats. Taylor shuddered. The fact that she knew what he looked like – smelt like, even – meant that she was pretty certain she wasn't going to come out of this alive.

There had been so much that she wanted to do. The main thing was to tell Flack exactly how she felt. She wrote for a living, and yet Taylor could never find a way to tell him three simple words. She was determined to see her brother free again, and Cordelia… what would happen to her now?

Taylor frowned. She was going to get out of there, if only to make sure that Cordelia was safe until her brother was released. The light flickered and then dimmed considerably. Taylor curled up tighter, waiting for Reggie to reappear, but he didn't.

It wasn't until her eyes had become accustomed to the dimmer light that Taylor noticed the little red LED on the other side of the room. 'What the hell is that?' she muttered, before it dawned on her that it was a camera of some kind. Taylor rolled over so that her back was to it, before she started coughing. Tired, hungry, injured and now sick. 'I'm not going to die down here,' she told herself.

And then a plan started to form. Not a brilliant plan, but it was a plan nonetheless.

---

Cory sat down at the computer next to Adam and logged on to one of the restricted access FBI websites. Within seconds there was a similar map of the area pulled up.

'What's this?' Mac asked her, peering over her shoulder.

'All the major cities in this country have gang problems; some more famous than others. This is the North East Database.' Quickly she pulled the map down so it showed the city. 'It's color coordinated for each gang, the stronger the color, the stronger the influence.'

'And what about the buildings?' Mac asked.

'It's not completely up to date because there are busts happening every day, but each highlighted building shows where gang members have been arrested, or have suspected safe houses. It's one of my pet projects,' she told him.

'Cory, this is really good,' Mac told her, clearly impressed.

'It's not just me who has been working on it,' she said, modestly, yet flushing at the compliment, as she moved the map back up to the Sparkill Creek area. Just on the outside of the Tallman Mountain State Park was a solitary building, highlighted in a pale blue color. 'Blue is the assigned color for Brooklyn Bullets,' Cory explained. 'But this pale a color only shows a weak link.' She clicked on the building and a little pop-up box appeared. 'It was the childhood home of Calvin Portwood.'

'Reggie and Felix's father,' Danny exclaimed.

'I'll notify Jersey State police and the Park Rangers. Stella, I want you staying here with Adam and Flack.'

'But Mac,' both detectives objected.

'You're pregnant,' Mac said, looking at Stella. He turned to Flack. 'And you are too emotionally involved.'

'And when has that stopped you?' Flack snapped back at him before turning and storming out of the room.

* * *

_I'm being mean with the cliffhangers, I know. But I've gotta keep you reading! (:P)_


	203. When the darkness turns to light, it end

_Trizzy - Unfortunately, I don't think it's going to get any better on the cliffhangers until 205! And you're right about the fluff. I haven't written any in so long, it's not only overdue, I'm not sure I remember how to write it!! And you really might hate me by the end of this chapter!_

_The Corrupter - Hey, glad you're still about. And I think you should be worried - if you think I'm capable of being really, really mean!_

_Madison Bellows - See, that's the work of a guilty conscience and being caught reading fanfiction when you're at work! (:P)_

_ambercsiny - Thank you! Just a couple more chapters and this arc will be done with_

_Bmangaka - lol, Don't think I can! Girl has a mind of her own_

_RK9 - Happy New Year to you too! And now I see why you were so happy for me to babysit Seymour - you wanted to go out and have some fun! (:P) Hope you enjoyed the partying_

_meadow567 - They will be making an appearence in this chapter, although probably not how you expect them to. I picked Miracle up last night and I'm going to watch that tonight (housemates permitting). As for the other - I'm still waiting on that one._

_sparkyCSI - yeah, it's cheating when you know what's coming up! Speaking of, you know what's planned for Cory, so don't feel too bad!_

_No notes, just thanks to my beta!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 202: ****When the darkness turns to light, it ends tonight**

Taylor scooted down to the bottom of the bed, ignoring the pain in her ankle and rolled back over to face the camera. And then she began picking at her bra-top until she pulled the wire from it. It was fat and flat, and probably not going to do much other than…

Taylor clutched tightly at the wire as the door was unlocked and Reggie stormed in. 'You don't learn, do you?' he asked her as he approached the bed. His hand was back around her throat again as the other pulled the wire from her hand. 'And I'll take the other one too.'

As his free hand headed to locate the other wire, Taylor took one hand away from the arm he was using to pin her and before he realised what was happening, stuck a finger in his eye as hard as she could.

Reggie roared with pain, stumbling backwards. With her own cry of pain, Taylor threw her weight into her leg and swung it with all her might so that the shackle connected with the side of his head. Reggie stumbled, before slumping onto the bed.

Taylor bit her lip, drawing blood, as she tried to block out the pain in her ankle, instead focusing on searching Reggie's pockets. She pulled out a set of keys and began to try each one in the lock of the shackle, her hands shaking so much that she was sure the noise would awaken Reggie.

Finally, the lock clicked. In her excitement, Taylor leapt of the bed, only to collapse in a heap as her ankle again collapsed on her. She clamped her hand around her mouth to stop herself from screaming. Taylor swallowed back the pain and got back to her feet. Quietly, she pulled the shackle and chain over to Reggie and locked it around his wrist – the chain wasn't long enough to reach his ankle, and there was no way she would be able to lift him.

Taylor headed out of the room, as fast as she could with the pain she was feeling, and pulled the door shut behind her. The room was upstairs and she could hear voices floating upwards. She couldn't tell what they were saying, but it didn't sound like they were worrying where their friend was. She edged towards the stairs and peered down.

The stairway opened up into a brightly lit room, although the windows were also boarded shut. From where she was, she could see a computer monitor with an image of the room she was in, with another monitor next to it which was streaming the video somewhere else. There were three men on the other side of the monitor, all playing cards, engrossed in their game.

Taylor crept back. She wasn't getting out that way. She headed back up the corridor and to the end room. The window was also boarded up, but there was a glimmer of light poking through. Taylor limped over to it and began pulling at the boards. It took a while, but one came away with a crack. Taylor held her breath, praying that no one heard it. Thankfully, no one seemed to.

Outside, it was daylight. Taylor couldn't tell where she was, but Reggie had been right – she wasn't in the city anymore. She was surrounded by trees and in the distance she could see a river. Taylor pushed herself through the small hole she had created, ignoring the searing pain that was coming from her ankle, as well as the great cut she had acquired as she caught her arm on a nail which was sticking out.

Pushing aside the fact that the drain pipe didn't look overly sturdy, she manoeuvred herself over to it and used it to lower herself down to the ground. It held, with a lot of creaking, and so did her arms – the last thing she wanted to do was fall on the ankle. She paused to catch her breath and looked around. Just as she spotted a truck, there was shouting in the house.

Realising there was no way she would be able to hotwire the thing quickly enough, Taylor took a deep breath and headed straight for the trees.

---

Two cars pulled up outside the Portwood's old family house followed by another two Jersey state Police patrol cars. Out of the first came Flack, Mac, Danny and Hawkes. Before Lindsay, Angell and Cory could get out of the second car, Flack was already kicking the door down.

'Flack!' Mac cried as the detective went bounding into the building, gun drawn. The others were close behind them, taking cover behind the doorway as bullets began ringing out into the night air.

From her position behind a cupboard, Cory leant out, shooting at one of the men who had been playing card only moments ago. He dropped to the floor, the blood splattering onto Flack's back.

Flack turned around at the sound of the body hitting the floor. Rather than acknowledge the fact that Cory had just saved him from being in that position, he ignored her and carried on into the house, regardless of whether it was secure or not.

The house was eventually rendered safe, the only other occupant giving himself up quickly. Again, without waiting for the all clear, Flack hurried upstairs, bursting into all the rooms until he came across the one he recognised as Taylor's holdings – her broken phone the extra proof she had been there.

Flack stormed back downstairs to where one of the officers was busy leading the only 'bad guy' still alive to the car in cuffs. The guy was snatched out of the officer's hands and flung against the door before the rookie could figure what was going on.

'Where is she,' Flack demanded.

'I don't know what you're talking about!' his voice came out muffled.

'Taylor! Where's Taylor!' he repeated, pulling his gun out.

'Flack, what are you doing?' Danny cried, pulling the taller man off the suspect.

'He knows something,' Flack told him.

Danny shrugged. 'And you think jamming a gun at his head is the right way to find this out?'

'And if this was Lindsay?'

'She managed to escape,' Cory interrupted them. 'Reggie and a fourth man went to look for her.'

---

Taylor collapsed to the ground. She had been running for what felt like hours, and her foot felt like it was going to explode. If it was not for the fact she knew that her life was on the line, she wouldn't be putting any pressure on it at all.

Not only was the ankle in agony, her feet were cut to shreds, and she didn't have a clue where she was. Whilst she had been keeping under the trees as much as possible to avoid the snow and leaving footprints, the ground was still frozen, as was the rest of her. It was also beginning to get dark.

Taylor took a deep breath. Having to walk with a limp for the rest of her life was a better option than the alternative. She got back to her feet and continued in the direction she was heading.

Finally, the trees began to thin and she found herself at a tall fence. Behind it, lurking like a monster in the night was something which resembled a factory, sitting on a dock at the river. 'Please be the Hudson,' she muttered to herself, before she gritted her teeth and began climbing. 'Please let me still be in the state of New York.'

She dropped down on the other side and stumbled through the snow drifts, heading for the buildings. As she rounded one of the corners, she faltered, spotting someone walking ahead of her, checking the area with a flash light.

'Oh, thank God,' she muttered, heading towards him. 'Hey! Help!'

The man turned, and Taylor continued towards him… until she realised who he was.

'You seem surprised to see me,' Reggie told her, a grin on his face. 'You didn't think that there was only one set of keys?'

'Frankly, I only needed enough time to get out of that place,' Taylor told him as she inched backwards.

'You didn't get very far,' Reggie informed her, his movement forwards matching hers backwards.

'What do you mean?' Taylor asked him.

'We were a mile that way,' he explained, pointing away from the water. 'It's a shame that you had to run all this way to die.'

'Look,' Taylor tried, 'you could just walk away and leave me here and I'm not going to tell anyone.'

Reggie nodded. 'Well, I am going to walk away and leave you here, and you're right, you're not going to tell anyone. Because the dead can't talk.'

'You are so wrong about that,' Taylor muttered, before turning and running.

'You can run, but you can't hide,' Reggie called after her.

At any other point, Taylor might have rolled her eyes at the tired cliché, but instead she was so focused on running away, she couldn't focus on anything else. Taylor rounded a corner and was faced with the option of running back to the forest, or a door ahead of her. She took the door, figuring that she might find something she could use as a weapon, or somewhere to hide, or even someone who could help.

It was locked. Taylor whirled around, ready to head in a different direction; only Reggie was right behind her. She took a deep breath, shut her eyes, and then punched at the glass with all her might. It shattered, slicing her arm, but it meant that she could reach in and twist the lock. She pushed the door open and ran, just as a shot rang out in the night, crashing into the wall just beside her.

Taylor shrieked and changed direction, willing her feet to move faster. She didn't have a clue where she was going, but she could hear Reggie behind her, taunting her as he called out her name. She dashed through another doorway and found some steps in front of her. Without even looking behind, she ran up them, and through another door until she was on a walkway of some description. Through the criss-crossed metal grated floor, it seemed like there was nothing below her other than a black abyss.

Taylor froze. She'd been here before – at least once a week in her dreams. Taylor looked around. The air smelt damp and of old fish, and it was cold in the warehouse. It was quiet too. The only noise she could hear was her own breathing and that sounded deafening. She glanced back behind her, certain she was being followed, and tripped on the metal rung of the suspended walkway she was creeping along. The piece of metal she kicked went flying over the edge, but instead of landing with a crash, it landed with a splash.

There was no doubt about it. She had been here before, and she knew what was going to happen. 'Aiden,' she hissed, 'I know you're here.'

Aiden appeared in front of her, 'how did you know?'

'Look, I don't have time to explain. I just need you to promise me something.'

'Taylor?'

'Just promise me,' Taylor pressed, urgently, glancing behind her.

Aiden looked at her. 'What?'

'Protect Don.'

'What are you talking about?' Aiden asked her, looking at her as if she had gone mad.

Hearing a noise behind her, Taylor gave Aiden one last pleading glance. 'Please, Aiden.' She took a deep breath and carried on in the direction she was heading.

In front of her, the walkway widened as it reached a door. To the left, where the walkway was the widest, were a couple of drums. Taylor gritted her teeth, knowing exactly what was going to happen next. In front of her, the door burst open and Flack dashed through.

'Taylor!' he yelled, his voice sounding like he was shouting in slow motion.

Taylor turned, even though she knew what was there – Reggie with his gun trained on them. And then it really was as if she was moving in slow motion. Knowing that Aiden would still try to knock her down, she stepped back, feeling Aiden fly past her. She turned around, pushing Flack to the floor as there were several loud bangs.

And then life returned to normal speed. Taylor turned back around in time to see Reggie slump to his knees, a look of surprise on his face. With his gun still trained on her, he fired again. This time, Flack leapt back to his feet and rained bullets into him, as Taylor watched Danny and Mac appeared from behind, doing the same.

After checking Reggie wasn't going to pose a further threat – he was well and truly dead – Flack turned back to Taylor.

'Taylor,' he said, looking thoroughly relieved, walking towards her.

Taylor took a step forward and stopped. Looking down she saw the blood running from her arm where she had cut it breaking the glass, her chaps were torn and covered in blood, as was her stomach. Only the blood on her stomach wasn't only from where the trees had torn at her. There were two bullet wounds.

'Don,' she managed weakly, as something behind him caught her eye. It was Reggie… or rather, the ghost of Reggie as he sat up from the body, and then he seemed to fly through the air, faster than Flack could run over to her. He flew into her, and Taylor stumbled backwards, hitting the railing behind her.

'TAYLOR!" Flack screamed as she went careering through the railing and into the black abyss behind her.

---

Taylor awoke and everything was white. As her eyes adjusted to the bright light, she noticed two things. Firstly, she couldn't feel any pain at all, and secondly, she wasn't alone.

'So you're finally awake.'

Taylor slowly turned her head and waited for her eyes to focus on the semi-transparent person standing over her. 'Maddy? Oh God. I'm dead, aren't I?'

* * *

_And yes, before you ask, I have considered ending here for a VERY long time. However, unluckily, or luckily, depending on how you look at it, because of all your wonderful support, heartwarming reviews, and the general nice feelings that accompany the alerts from FanFic that tell me another reader has added this to their favorites/alerts, I've carried on._

_And if there was anything I could do to repay the happy feeling y'all keep giving me, I would! So thank you!_


	204. What it feels like to be a ghost

_pippylongstockings - hello and welcome. Thank you, and I hope you continue to love it!_

_Nienna Tinehtele - I am getting a little carried away with the cliffhangers, I admit it! But no, I see an ending in my head, and it's not near it yet!_

_Chandra Nalaar - lol, thank you. And don't worry, there is more!!_

_Bmangaka - Well, we shall see...!_

_ambercsiny - well, in terms of ending, I think it will be a while before you'll be crying about it. But I'm glad you're loving it!_

_demolished-soul - No, that was a one off thing. I think I'd overload her if I gave her that ability. And the prize for reviewer number 2000 goes to you!_

_sparkyCSI - And the best bit is that I don't remember adding them! But I'm glad it works! I've added to the end of this one... so I hope you like what I've written!_

_RK9 - No, I'm not ending it. But there have been many occasions where I've thought about ending it there! I'm glad you enjoyed your holidays!_

_meadow567 - I tell you something, you've given me the idea of doing a sort of spin off with the alternative option. I may have to think that one through because the idea is definately growing! And I've finally watched Miracle! I can't believe I've been missing out on this one for so long!! I've had to watch it a couple of times over._

_Alana Xavier1 - *cowers in fear* Yes, I know that! I'm continuing. And darn it, I wanna write that wedding! No, I think there's still a bit to go with this baby._

Axellia's Note: My medical knowledge comes from fourteen seasons of ER and four and a bit of Grey's Anatomy. If it's wrong, it's because I don't have a medical degree!

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 203: What it feels like to be a ghost**

Flack watched in horror as Taylor fell backwards through the railing. He ran over to the edge, only to feel Mac's hand on his shoulder preventing him from going any further. 'Let go of me!' he cried angrily, shaking Mac's hand off of him.

'Down the stairs, Flack,' Mac told him, pulling him to the door from whence he came. Flack charged down the stairs, Mac and Danny close behind him, Danny calling through for medical assistance. The three of them burst through the doorway and into an enormous room.

In the centre was a pool of inky black water, still rippling from where Taylor had fallen in. Without even thinking, Flack dove in. It was just as dark in the water as it was out of it as he swam blindly trying to find Taylor. He sensed her long before he saw her, grabbing tightly to her and pulling her back to the surface and over to the side.

Danny and Mac leant over and hauled her out. 'Mac, she's not breathing,' Danny told him as he checked for a pulse.

Without a word, Mac began CPR and the chest compressions.

'Mac?' Flack cried after he had eventually pulled himself out of the water.

'Don, go wait outside for the paramedics,' Mac barked, barely looking over at the wet detective.

'Mac!'

'Now, Flack!' Mac ordered, snapping his head around at him. He turned to Danny. 'Get him out of here if you have to.'

Danny nodded and pushed Flack backwards. 'Don, you don't want to be here. Go make sure the ambulance can get here.'

Flack glared at his friend. 'Don't make me shoot you.'

'Nice try. Now get out,' Danny told him firmly, not breaking his stare.

'I'm not going anywhere,' Flack told him.

'Danny, get back here,' Mac called. 'Flack, you stay, but you stay there.'

Danny hurried over. 'What's the matter, Mac?'

'I need your jacket. She's too cold,' he told him through compressions.

'Mac, this doesn't look good, does it?' Danny asked, glancing down at the journalist's blue tinged face.

Mac looked at him, before returning his attention to Taylor.

---

'Mac!' Stella shouted at the first person she laid eyes on as she ran across the hospital followed closely by Hawkes, Lindsay, Peyton and Angell. 'How is she?' she asked as they stopped in front of him.

Mac shook his head. 'She's in surgery. The doctors haven't told us anything.'

'How's Don?' Angell asked, glancing over at the still wet detective.

'Not good,' Mac sighed. 'He's going nowhere.'

Angell nodded and headed over to the detective who was sitting so still he would have been able to give a statue a run for its money. 'Hey, Don.'

Flack blinked and turned his head, but looked straight through her, before returning his attention to the wall opposite.

Angell bit her lip before reaching over and taking his hand in hers and squeezed it. Flack squeezed it back as the tears began to stream down his face.

'Is there anything we can do?' Lindsay asked Mac quietly.

Mac nodded. 'Someone needs to get in touch with her family.'

'What about Cordelia?' Lindsay asked.

'Sasha agreed to watch her when we told her what had happened. I'd best give her a call and get her up to date with what happened,' Hawkes told them. 'Cordelia doesn't know anything.'

'I've got a spare key for Flack and Taylor's place,' said Lindsay. 'I'll grab some clean things for Cordelia and find a contact number for her family. Will someone call me if anything changes?'

Stella nodded. 'Don't worry.'

'I'll come with you,' Danny offered.

Lindsay nodded her acceptance and the two of them left.

---

Lindsay and Danny had returned before Taylor had come out of surgery and the group of them were waiting somewhat impatiently when the doctor finally came out to talk to them in the family room that they had been moved into.

'Taylor experienced significant trauma to her abdomen and she lost a lot of blood as well as sustaining some serious internal bleeding. We managed to repair the injuries, but we're worried about the amount of time she wasn't breathing for. She's being moved upstairs to ICU now.'

'Is she going to be alright?' Flack asked. He had leapt to his feet the second the doctor had walked through the door.

The doctor took a deep breath. 'At this point, I couldn't tell you for certain. Currently, we have a machine breathing for her and she is still unconscious.'

'Can I go and see her?' Flack asked.

'For a while,' the doctor agreed. 'The neurologist will be in to see you soon.'

With his face still as white as a sheet, Flack turned on his heel and headed up to the ICU.

Following the nurse's directions he found himself outside Taylor's room and pushed open the door. The sight inside made his heart break. Taylor was laying on a bed, with wires and tubes everywhere, her face so gaunt, it made the white sheets she was lying upon seem dazzling. Her hair was still damp, and the parts of her body above the sheets were covered in bandages.

'Oh god,' Flack choked on the sob caught in his throat. 'Taylor?' He walked over and sat down in the vacant chair, staring at her body which wasn't moving, save for the rhythmic steady rise and fall of her chest. Tentatively, his hand crept to meet hers, half scared that he might hurt her to touch it. They too were wrapped in bandages, a small gap for her drip. 'Taylor? It's me. Open those beautiful eyes and tell me I'm doofas for worrying about nothing,' he pleaded.

'Mr Flack?' a doctor interrupted from the doorway.

Flack quickly wiped his eyes and looked over at the doctor.

'I'm Dr. Singh,' the man introduced himself. 'I'm Miss Turner's neurosurgeon. I understand Miss Turner has listed you as her next of kin and power of attorney?'

Flack glanced down at the unconscious woman, a little surprised at the news, but nodded. 'How is she?'

Dr. Singh licked his lips. 'It's not good news, Mr Flack.'

'But she's gonna be alright, though. Isn't she?' Flack asked him, a hint of desperation in his voice.

'Mr. Flack, we have done everything we can. We have repaired the liver, and removed the spleen. But she was under the water for too long.'

Flack shook his head, his grip tightening around Taylor's limp fingers. 'No,' he told him. 'I got her out of there.'

Dr Singh sighed. 'Mr Flack-'

'It's _Detective_,' Flack snapped. 'And Taylor is going to be fine.'

'Detective Flack. I'm sorry, but the only thing keeping your fiancé alive is that machine,' Dr. Singh told him. 'Have the two of you talked about keeping her alive by artificial means?'

'Get out!' Flack roared. 'Taylor is going to be up soon and I don't want to wake up and hear you talking about turning off her machine!'

'Detective-'

'OUT!'

---

Taylor could feel the warmth long before she stretched and opened her eyes. As the smile spread across her lips, she opened her eyes to see the bright sun in the clear, cloudless sky.

'Hey,' a familiar voice greeted her.

Taylor turned her head, her smile turning to a frown as she found Maddy sat next to her. Slowly, Taylor pulled herself into a sitting position and looked around. She was sat on a beach of sand so white, it was blinding in the sun. Using her hand to shield her eyes, she surveyed the view; the turquoise sea, and the palm trees just behind her. Looking down, she was wearing a simple white bikini and sarong,

Taylor turned her attention back to her friend. 'I was shot?' she asked, rather than stated. 'How did I get here?' Taylor's brown eyes widened as the realization set in. 'Am I dead?!'

Maddy looked out at the water. 'There's someone who wants to talk to you.'

'Maddy, am I dead?' Taylor repeated a little more forcefully.

'He wanted to talk to you somewhere... neutral.'

'Maddy,' Taylor snapped. 'Am. I. Dead?'

'Well I suppose it depends on how you look at it,' Maddy sighed.

---

'Hey Don, how you holding up?' Stella asked, pushing a cup towards the detective who was still clinging to Taylor's hand as though he could somehow transmit the strength she needed through their touch.

'She's gonna wake up, Stell,' he croaked at her.

Stella set the coffee down on the sighed and placed a hand on Flack's shoulders. 'Don, the doctor has spoken to us-'

'He's wrong,' Flack snapped, glaring up at Stella. 'She just needs to rest a bit. She hasn't been sleeping much,' he added as he smoothed down Taylor's hair.

Stella watched the action, feeling the tears well up, and quickly wiped them away. 'You should go home for a bit, Don. Get out of those wet clothes.'

Flack gently shook his head. 'I'm not leaving her Stell. I want to be here when she wakes up.'

Stella watched him for a moment and walked out of the room to where everyone crowded around her.

'Well?' Angell asked.

Stella shook her head. 'He's not listening.' She turned to Hawkes and Peyton. 'Is there any chance the doctor is wrong?'

'We've both looked over the charts and spoken with him,' Hawkes replied. 'He's right. The only thing keeping Taylor alive is that machine.'

Behind them, Lindsay burst into tears.

'What about her parents?' Stella asked.

Danny looked over at Lindsay and pulled her to him. 'Her mother is getting the next plane out. She was trying to get a hold of Taylor's dad. He's back out in Middle East.'

Mac looked over at him. 'I'll see if I can get anywhere with that,' he muttered before heading to the door, pulling his cell phone out as he went.

---

'Maddy?' Taylor shouted helplessly. She was still on the beach, still in the bikini – it would have been a tropical paradise, all things considered. 'Maddy!' she cried again. The only response was the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the sand.

'Hello Taylor.'

Taylor started, whirling around to find an insanely good looking guy staring at her. With a face that would have suited a teen school drama a la The OC, and a body that was perfectly defined, he stood there holding a surfboard, dressed only in board shorts with a white and gold swirling pattern. 'Who are you?' Taylor demanded.

'Lucas,' he told her. 'But you can call me Luke.'

'And you can call me the first flight out of here,' Taylor told him.

'I don't think there's going to be a plane heading her for a while yet,' Luke shrugged, his \eyes staring searchingly at her.

'You got me here. You can get me out of here,' Taylor pointed out.

'And where do you think _here_ is?' he asked her.

Taylor glanced around. 'Somewhere I'm not supposed to be.'

---

As Cory finished up the paper work that came with rescue of Taylor, the memories that she had been working hard to ignore starting coming to the surface. After filing the last report, she knew that she needed to go to the hospital; her conscience would not allow her to do anything else. She sighed as she climbed into her car, knowing that if Detective Flack saw her, he'd probably try to kill her, so she decided on an alternate plan.

Quickly, she picked up her personal cell phone—she didn't want to chance the FBI to have a record of what she was doing by using her work phone—and dialed the hospital. When the receptionist answered the phone, she put her best drawl into her voice. "Yes, ma'am. My name is Special Agent Corinne Reid with the FBI and I am checking on the status of a patient so that I'll know exactly what charges I need to file against the assailant."

"_I'm sorry, but we are not allowed to disclose patient information over the phone,"_ the pleasant voice on the other end of the line said.

Cory sighed. She'd expected this. "All right, then can you please tell me what room she is in, so I can consult with the doctors?" Cory smiled as the woman readily gave her that information and as soon as she parked in the hospital garage, she was already making her way to the floor. Quickly surmising that since Taylor was in ICU, there could be only one person in at a time with her, she knew that she had a chance of seeing her.

When she arrived at the floor, she quickly looked around for any members on the crime lab, and seeing none, managed to get a nurse to give her the prognosis on the battled injured woman. When the kind woman was done, Cory's gut was tied into knots. _Damn it. It will not turn out this way this time,_ she thought to herself venomously. She hid around a corner, watching the woman's room and when Flack left, she grabbed her chance to go in unseen.

As she walked into the room, the silence only broken by the beeping of machines, her mind brought back the one memory that she'd never let herself think about. Overlaid on top of Taylor was the image of another woman, seemingly in the same condition. Cory bit her lip as she sank into the chair beside the bed. "No," she muttered, shaking her head. "No. This will not end up the same." She looked at the pale woman in the bed. "Do you hear me Taylor? I will not have your death on my soul as well. You will live," she said forcefully, not realizing that she had company.

"So, you fully admit that this is your fault, SSA Reid?" Flack sneered from the doorway.

Cory stood. "Not SSA, not anymore. Try Special Agent, Detective," she said softly, not defending herself from the guilt.

Flack was barely listening to her, so angry at himself for going out with Danny instead of going to the party with Taylor that he just transferred his anger to her. "So, that's the only punishment you get? I lose my fiancée, Cordelia loses an aunt, the crime lab loses another person that they are close to and you just get demoted?" Flack practically screamed as he stood in her face.

Cory bit her lip. "I deserve that and so much more. Look, I hope that one day you'll accept the fact that I never meant for any of this to happen," she began, blinking back tears, "but let Taylor know that I apologize to her when she wakes up." She turned and walked out of the room, holding back the tears until she got in the elevator, when she covered her face with her hands, her iron control finally cracking.

Flack watched in shock as the FBI agent that had fought him tooth and nail just accepted the unfair accusations that he was flinging at her with only a flinch. He blinked, not sure that he had heard her correctly and in that time, she had left the room. Before he could even tell her that he never wanted her near Taylor again.

---

Mac had been pacing back and forth, only a few feet from Taylor's room. He was worried. About Flack. He had discussed the situation with both Peyton and Hawkes, who had admitted that there was nothing they could see that meant the doctors were wrong. He'd had is differences with the journalist, but he'd never wished this upon her. And although he'd never admit it aloud, he would probably miss her guest appearences in the lab. Even if she wasn't supposed to be there.

He'd seen something in her. Maybe if he'd have gotten to her before she'd gone to college, he could have convinced her to do a degree in science, and then guided her to becoming a CSI - she'd probably have made a damn good CSI with that intuition. Or ghosts as she'd like to refer to is as. But there was nothing he could do about that now.

Flack, on the other hand, he could do something about that. Or at least try. He'd overheard the conversation he'd had with Cory. Well, it was hard not to.

Giving Flack the time to cool down, Mac hurried off down the corridor, sliding his hand into the lift to stop it closing at the last possible moment. As the doors slid back open, he slipped in, taking the space next to Cory.

Cory quickly ducked her head away to wipe away the tears, sniffed, and stood upright, staring at her slightly disfigured reflection in the shiney lift doors.

'He doesn't mean it, you know,' Mac said, without looking at her.

'He does,' Cory responded, also keeping her gaze in front of her. 'And I don't blame him.'

'No,' Mac disagreed. 'He doesn't. He just doesn't know where to place his grief. And unfortunately you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.'

'I wish you were right,' Cory muttered.

'You got demoted?' Mac asked her.

Cory looked up at him and nodded. 'I had a rouge agent.'

'What did you mean by not having Taylor's death on your conscience?'

Cory shook her head. 'It's just something that happened a long time ago,' she told him. 'And it's something I can't go through again. I won't.'

Mac studied her. 'What do you mean by that?'

'I don't think I can do this anymore,' she admitted.

'Let me give you some advice,' Mac said as the lift pinged open. 'Take a vacation. A sabbatical. You're good at what you do, Reid. Don't let a couple of bad experiences bring you down.'

Cory gave him a small smile and left.

* * *

_Today, the UK ground to a halt. It turns out that people just don't know what to do when that white stuff falls from the sky... seriously... we had a foot of it and nobody could cope. At least my rabbits liked it._


	205. Goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend

_Angel JJK - Hello! I'm going to, don't worry! But I'm glad you like!!_

_Bmangaka - The snow lasted one day. I was gutted. Especially as the rest of the country has virtually run out of grit. And, do you think I'm going to be that mean?_

_ambercsiny - I'm sorry I made you cry - I hope I don't do the same in this chapter!_

_sparkyCSI - I don't know - my muses went on the warpath, demanded I write something which is gonna be end up being chapters away... and then they forced me to write what I've sent you. I have an interview next week - but I can't let myself get excited about it. Then I get disappointed!_

_Sammich - Hey y'all! I hope I haven't done lasting damage! I'm glad you're all enjoying, and I'm sorry she got you addicted!_

_Trizzy - I'm going to stop being mean soon - i promise! Luke Perry in BtVS? Wow, that's going back some! But yeah, that's when he was cute! There's gonna be good - I need to plan a wedding!_

_meadow567 - You have inspired me to write a spin off piece - an alternative ending, of sorts, because I loved the idea of Mac seeing her, and I'd already written the chapters after this. I like that name. And I hope the writing happens soon!_

_Madison Bellows - My muses are attacking me with two stories at the moment, which is going to result in me not getting much sleep! Boo! But yay on an update from you!_

Axellia's Note: My medical knowledge comes from fourteen seasons of ER and four and a bit of Grey's Anatomy. If it's wrong, it's because I don't have a medical degree!

Axellia's Second Note: Lyrics don't belong to me. They're Howie Day's!

Ax's third note - sparky is my amazing beta - so mucho thanks!

Ax's fourth note - Gus isn't mine! She belongs to Madison Bellows!

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 204:**** Goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend. You have been the one**

Nicolette Turner swept into the hospital still wearing the flour coated apron she had been wearing when Lindsay had called, and hurried up to the room her daughter was in. 'Taylor,' she cried. 'La mia ragazza bella.'

'Nicolette?' Flack greeted his voice breaking.

'Oh, Donnie, il mio amore,' she sobbed, throwing her arms around him. 'What happened?'

'She got shot, Nicolette,' he explained.

Nicolette stepped back and stared up at him, giving him a look that left him in no doubt that Taylor took after her mother. 'How?'

'She saved me,' he told her. And was rewarded by Nicolette's hand connecting with his face.

'You were supposed to be protecting her,' she cried. 'It was your job to be saving her,' she sobbed as she hit at him again.

Flack stared down at Taylor and shut his eyes. In his mind, Nicolette was right. All he had done for the last day was replay the scene in his head, again and again. It _should_ have been him there. That bullet had been fired at him, and somehow Taylor had appeared out of nowhere. And he deserved every single one of the slaps Nicolette was giving him – every single one of them, even if he was feeling too numb to actually feel the pain.

'What is going on here?' Mac cried as he and Stella charged into the room and pulled the grieving woman off of Flack.

'It's alright, Mac,' Flack told him, watching his fiancé's mother collapse into Stella, sobbing her heart out. 'She's right.'

Mac looked between the two and frowned. 'Mrs. Turner, I don't know what Don has said, but this was not his fault. It was not your fault,' he repeated, looking at the detective.

Flack stared back at him before crumpling back into his chair.

---

Taylor sighed in frustration. She didn't know how long she had been there, or even, where she was. The sun wasn't moving to give her any indication, and Luke wasn't giving anything away. Beneath her toes, the surf dragged the sand away, before the cool water came rushing back over them. 'Should I be worried about the lack of sunscreen?' Taylor asked the only other person nearby.

'Do you think you should be worried about sunscreen?' he asked her.

Taylor looked sideways at him. 'I'm in Hell, aren't I?'

'Do you think you're in Hell?'

Taylor turned, sending water flying. 'Are you going to answer every question with a question? Because I'm going to ignore you.'

---

'Hey,' Gus called softly, entering the room and sitting down in a spare chair.

Flack looked over at the blonde and frowned. 'I don't need to see a therapist, Broussard.'

'Good job I'm not here as one then, isn't it?' she retorted, meeting and holding his gaze.

He broke the stare first, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes as he looked over at Taylor. 'I… I don't think I can do it, Gus,' he whispered, his voice catching on several occasions.

'Do what?'

'Say goodbye. I'm not ready.'

'I don't think anybody ever is,' Gus told him. 'But what you have to ask yourself is what would Taylor want?'

---

'_I don't understand your obsession with _House_,' Flack muttered, glancing down at Taylor who was curled up in his arms, watching the show intently._

'_Shhh,' she hushed him._

'_Well it's probably Lupus. Or cancer.'_

_With a small growl in the back of her throat, Taylor reached for the remote and hit pause (whoever decided it was possible to pause live television was a genius) and glared up at Flack. 'It's the bubonic plague,' she told him haughtily._

'_So you've seen this already?' Flack asked in amusement. Of course she had seen it already. And so had he. She'd gotten the first season on DVD and they'd watched them all one weekend. This was probably the third or fourth time they'd watched this episode. 'Don't you think the plague is a little farfetched?'_

_Taylor scowled. 'House specializes in all the weird diseases. Is it that hard to believe that the plague hasn't been eradicated?'_

_Flack chuckled. 'No, it's just the chances of it turning up in America are extremely slim.'_

'_I don't watch it for the medicine,' Taylor muttered, rolling her eyes. 'I watch it for Hugh Laurie.'_

_Flack blinked. 'Really?'_

'_Oh God, yeah,' Taylor confirmed._

'_But he's a jerk and he's not really got the best bedside manner.'_

'_To be honest, Don, I really wouldn't be interested in what he was like at the side of the bed. Unless I was ill. Then he could be a jerk.'_

_Flack stared down in amazement._

'_What?' Taylor asked. 'He's strangely hot.'_

'_No,' Flack said, shaking his head. 'I just wanted to check that you didn't think this was some kind of reality TV show. If you get ill from the plague, or from anything, House isn't going to be able to save you.'_

'_I know,' Taylor told him. She frowned and pulled herself upright so that she was facing him. 'Don.'_

'_Am I going to like the next thing out of your mouth?' he asked her suspiciously._

'_I don't want any heroics.'_

'_Huh?'_

'_Don't get me wrong, I'd want you to let the doctors do everything that they can-'_

'_Whoa!' Flack exclaimed. 'I don't think we need to be having this discussion.'_

'_I think we do,' Taylor told him. 'If something happened to me, I'd need you to make the difficult decisions.'_

'_Taylor!'_

_Taylor shook her head. 'My dad is never in the country. I don't even know what he's doing half the time. And mama would want what's best for her. I need you to be the person who does what's right for me. Please.'_

_Flack sighed. 'Fine.'_

'_I don't want to be kept alive by a machine if there's no chance I'm ever going to wake up. And I don't want to be cremated. I want to be buried. Here in New York. It's my home now.'_

'_Taylor,' Flack sighed._

'_Promise me, Don,' Taylor pleaded, staring earnestly at him._

'_I promise,' he sighed._

_Taylor smiled. 'Good. Because I also want to be buried with a cell phone, just in case. And everyone is going to have to wear pink to the funeral.'_

'_Okay, the cell phone I get, but pink? Do you really see me in pink?'_

_Taylor grinned cheekily. 'Right now, I see you in nothing.'_

---

'She would have wanted us to keep her alive,' Nicolette told the doctor.

Flack looked down at love of his life, feeling his body pulsing in time to the mechanical rhythm of the machine breathing for Taylor. Her bruises were showing now, and her body was looking even more frail than usual – she looked lost, even in a single bed.

'No,' said Flack.

'Excuse me?' Nicolette asked, staring at the detective.

'She wouldn't want it. She _doesn't_ want it,' he corrected himself.

'We are not killing my daughter,' Nicolette shrieked. 'She could still wake up from this.'

Flack looked at the doctor with the last glimmer of hope he had. The doctor slowly shook his head and that glimmer died in his eyes. 'She's already gone,' he choked.

'No,' Nicolette cried, breaking down into sobs. 'We are not turning the machine off.'

Captain Turner took a step forward and wrapped his arms around his wife. 'She's gone, love. And Taylor knew what she was doing when she gave Don power of attorney. She knew he'd be able to do what we couldn't.' He nodded at the doctor. 'We're ready when you are.'

---

'Are you an angel?' Taylor asked, only managing to ignore Luke for a short time.

'Do you think I'm an angel?' he asked her, a twinkling to his golden eyes – they reminded Taylor of her mother's wedding band, almost yellow.

'Has it ever occurred to you that the reason I'm asking these questions is because I don't know the answer?' she asked him, frustrated to the point she was ready to tear her hair out.

Luke gave her a warm smile and slid his hand up and down the surfboard. 'Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I'm not answering the questions because you already know the answer?'

Taylor glared at him, mouth ready for a retort, but nothing came. As the realization set in, so did the shakiness to her knees and she crumbled to the warm sand below her. 'Oh crap,' she muttered.

'Do you surf?' he asked her.

Taylor looked up at him in disbelief. 'Are you kidding me?'

Luke smiled again. 'I find it quite fun. The water is always different, always changing. Sometimes it can throw out the biggest ride of your life, others can be the biggest wipeout you've experienced. Here the water is beautiful, clear and fresh. Other places it's filled with waste, colorful, tropical fish, or sharks. A new challenge every time you swim out into it, and at the same time it's still the same of sea.'

Taylor only just refrained from rolling her eyes as she glared up at him. 'Is that supposed to be some lame ass attempt at a metaphor about life? Because it sucked.'

Luke shrugged. 'No. I just like surfing.' He stuck his board in the sand and sat down next to her.

'This is hell, isn't it? Taylor muttered.

'I thought you said I was an angel?' Luke responded.

'Yeah, but I'm stuck on this desert island, with no apparent way off, with a guy for company who does little than answer my questions with either more questions, or gives ambiguous answers,' she frowned. 'Or is this one of those dreams where I've been watching too much of a TV show and now I'm dreaming that I'm stuck in it?' Taylor tilted her head to analyze Luke's profile. 'You do kinda have that whole "Boone" thing going on... although he's dead. And I'm just going in circles.' She sighed. 'Where am I?'

Luke brought his knees up, resting his arms on them. 'Taylor, you have a choice to make.'

Taylor gave him a sideways look. 'If you're about to tell me I have to pick between heaven and hell-'

'It depends on your definition of them both,' Luke cut her off.

'And are you going to elaborate or is this one of this just going to be another _day in the life of_ situations?' Taylor asked him warily.

'Do you want it to be?'

Taylor slammed her fists into the sand, sending grains flying, before leaping to her feet and glaring down at Luke. 'No. That's not what I want. For once in my complicated life, I want someone to tell me what's going on, without me having to decipher annoying clues, without having to learn a different language, without having to wait for eternity for things to make sense. I am sick to my back teeth with all this crap. Every day it's the same thing, and every day I'm living a different version of the same event. So no, for once, I want you to tell me straight. What the hell is going on?'

'Taylor, we brought you here because we thought this appearance would be calming to you. Reassuring.'

'Calming? This might be paradise to most, but to me, it isn't. It's strange and disconcerting.'

'You would like something more reassuring?' Luke asked, still remaining calm.

'Yeah,' Taylor told him.

The scenery changed. Gone were the white sandy beaches and the crystal clear sea. Instead, she was in her old apartment which looked like it had never been ravaged by a fire. 'Interesting,' she muttered.

---

Flack sat by Taylor's bed and pulled his guitar into his lap. 'For months you've been begging me to play you something,' he told her. 'I'm sorry I had to wait until now to do that, but I wanted to be good enough for you; I didn't want to let you down,' he gave a short laugh. 'It's your favorite.'

'_The dawn is breaking  
A light shining through  
You're barely waking  
And I'm tangled up in you  
Yeah_

_When I'm open, you're closed  
Where I follow, you'll go  
I worry I won't see your face  
Light up again'_

---

Taylor wandered around the apartment with a small frown on her face. 'Alright, I've changed my mind, this isn't relaxing either,' she muttered.

'Where would you prefer to be?' Luke asked her. They were both still wearing their swimwear, but the surfboard had disappeared.

Taylor shook her head. 'No, I don't want more time wasted over where I feel most comfortable. The fact is, the place I'm most comfortable is when I'm surrounded by the people that I love.'

'Even with all the ghosts?'

Taylor walked over to the window and looked out. But instead of seeing the familiar New York City streets, she saw the beach she had been on only moments ago. She turned to Luke. 'Are you kidding me?'

He shrugged. 'I like the beach.'

Taylor gave him a tight smile. 'Right.' There was a quiet rustling, and then she became aware of something sniffing at her feet. She looked down. 'Wilbur?' She looked back to Luke. 'I'm dead, aren't I?'

Luke shrugged. 'Not yet.'

Taylor's lips disappeared into a thin line. 'I beg your pardon?'

'It's your call. You have done more in the two years than we would ever hope for someone to do in a lifetime, Taylor. We're proud of you.'

Taylor dropped heavily onto the couch. 'What?' she whispered.

'What happens next is your choice. You can move on to the next level – you're ready.'

'And what if I'm not?' Taylor asked him.

Luke smiled. 'That's the choice you've got to make.'

'_Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme  
Out of the doubt that fills my mind  
I somehow find  
You and I collide_

_I'm quiet you know  
You make a first impression  
I've found I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind'_

'What's that?' she asked as a song began to drift through the apartment.

'What do you think it is?'

Taylor shut her eyes, biting at her lip. Finally she shook her head. 'I'm not ready to give you an answer now,' she told him. 'I need some time.'

'Taylor, time is up to you,' Luke smiled. 'There's no pressure here.'

'Can I ask something,' she frowned. 'And actually get a straight answer?'

Luke nodded.

'What if I pick the wrong choice?'

Luke smiled and headed for the door to her bedroom. 'Taylor, you're at a crossroads in your life. You have three paths in front of you, and it's completely up to you. Whatever choice you make will be the right one.' He grinned. 'Do you know how long I've been waiting to tell someone that?'

'What's the third choice?'

Luke frowned. 'Well, that's the choice we hope you don't make, because you certainly don't deserve to go that way.'

'Hell?' she asked.

'You're better than that,' he told her, avoiding giving her an answer. 'Either way, whether you believe it or not, you already know the answer. I'll be through here, waiting. Take your time.' He walked into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Taylor took a breath and scooped Wilbur up into her arms, before settling back into the chair.

'_Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the stars refuse to shine  
Out of the back you fall in time  
I somehow find  
You and I collide  
Don't stop here I've lost my place I'm close behind_

_Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the wrong words seem to ryhme  
Out of the doubt that fills your mind  
You finally find  
You and I collide'_

Taylor got to her feet, setting the pig down in the seat in her place. Determination on her face, she headed for the door Luke had passed though not so long ago. She gave her apartment one last look around and smiled before stepping through.

She should have known she would have wound up back on that beach. But now it was reassuring. She headed up to the ocean, stepped into the waves and allowed the warm water to break over her feet as she stared out to sea, watching Luke surf.

---

'_You finally find  
You and I collide  
You finally find  
You and I collide'_

Flack set the guitar down on the floor. With tears streaming down his face, he leant over and kissed his fiancé. 'Bye Taylor,' he whispered. He turned to the doctor and nodded.

Checking that her parents were also ready, Doctor Singh walked over to the bed and turned the heart monitor off. Next, he unclipped the tube which was supplying her with oxygen and stepped back.

Flack sat there, the tears running freely as he watched Taylor, his eyes drawn to the steady rise and fall of her chest. He sat forward and placed a hand over her heart. 'She has a heartbeat.'

The doctor nodded. 'That's normal. It's the residual flow from the bypass.'

Flack shook his head. 'No, look. I can feel it.'

With a frown, the doctor hurried over and placed his stethoscope on her heart. As the frown increased, he turned and switched the heart monitor back on. Sure enough, there was a steady heartbeat. 'Huh?'

'Huh?' Captain Turner questioned. 'What does "huh" mean?'

The doctor turned. 'I, uh... she should be dead, Captain Turner. I don't know why she isn't.'

'Maybe your tests were wrong,' Captain Turner suggested.

'We don't take things like this as a joke, sir,' the doctor told him. 'We do every test possible to check before we come to you with something like that. And we get it verified by another doctor. Taylor should be dead. I have no idea who, or what, is looking after her, but something is keeping her here.'

There was a squeal as Flack's chair went screeching back behind him as he rose to his feet. 'I'm sorry,' he muttered to Taylor. And then he turned and left the room, not looking back.

'Is she...?' Danny asked as Flack walked past.

Flack ignored him and strode past him, disappearing down the corridor.

Next to Danny, Angell burst into tears.

Seconds after Flack had gone, Captain Jack came out. 'She's alive,' he announced, a smile on his face. 'She's still asleep, but she's alive.'

* * *

_I'm going to stop being mean on the cliffhangers now. I promise!_


	206. You didn’t get to heaven, but you made

_Kilana, Abby, Haily, Thoren, Sammy and Chandra - hey guys! Wow, that's a lot of you to be jumping around! lol. I'm glad you're all happy though!_

_Nienna Tinehtele - lol, you may want to hug him now, but you might not soon!_

_ambercsiny - Well I'm glad that I could make you laugh. And I think that song is possibly my favourite!_

_Carrie Michelle - I couldn't leave it like that, even though I was tempted, so she had to pull through. I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long!_

_Trizzy - Boone... I was GUTTED when they killed him off, and so mad at Locke. But I'm now about two seasons behind - and I'm not going to watch it until it's done with, because I can't stand waiting for the next episode (and two and a bit seasons to find out why that dratted plane crashed was unnecessary!) I think that would be an amusing review, lol! Sorry to keep you waiting!_

_ah-dorably key-ute - It's become something of an epic, so I'm thrilled you kept on reading. I'm glad you like it, and I hope you continue to do so!_

_Bmangaka - I know - I have visions of people walking down the streets with salt shakers. And we've gone so long without snow whilst the rest of the country has it. And then it snowed last night. Yay!_

_demolished-soul - that's alright - it's nice to be ahead in the updating for once, lol! I hope your exams went alright! And I was very tempted. So very tempted!_

_meadow567 - Well, I think there's a semi cliffhanger on the end of this one, but it's not as bad! And I've had a play around for you!_

_sparkyCSI - I watched last night's episode and it has given me inspiration - unrelated to the episode, but inspiration nonetheless! So I'm going to try and get something sent to you tonight. Did I send you 18 back? I can't remember!_

_RK9 - so you want a dog in this?? I have something planned, I think. But not a dog. I think Seymour's ready (he has been enjoying the snow!)_

_Righto... two things... the first being that this chapter was beta'd by my wonderful beta, sparky... the second being, I made changes, so spelling mistakes are my fault... and the changes are dedicated to meadow567!_

**

* * *

**

**Part Two.**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 205: You didn't get to heaven, but you made it close.**

_Those who are dead are not dead  
They're just living in my head oh…  
And since I fell for that spell  
I am living there as well oh…_

_Time is so short and I'm sure  
There must be something more_

_You thought you might be a ghost  
You thought you might be a ghost  
You didn't get to heaven but you made it close  
You didn't get to heaven but you made it close_

_42, Coldplay_

Taylor stared out to sea, feeling the sun's warm rays calming her. She knew she was supposed to be doing something. Something relatively important. But the actual thought of what that was, was fading away, being carried out to sea with every lap of the surf against the beach.

In the distance, a surfer she had been watching wiped out, disappearing under the water. He emerged coming out of the water not far from her. 'Have you decided?' he asked her as he joined her side.

Taylor shrugged. 'I don't know. I don't remember.'

Luke smiled. 'Let me remind you.' The scenery changed in a ball of white light. It took a while for the balls of white light to disappear from Taylor's eyes to realise that she was standing in a hospital room, staring down at someone asleep in a bed. 'Does that help?'

'That's me?' Taylor said, more statement then question as she recognised herself lost in the bedsheets.

'That's you,' Luke confirmed. 'And do you know what you want to do?'

Taylor shook her head, shaking the cobwebs from them. 'Yes,' she told Luke. 'But you already knew that didn't you?'

Luke nodded.

'And you already know what my answer is?'

Luke nodded. 'Yes. But you made the choice, and that is the important bit. Even more important than the fact that you made the right one. Now,' he stepped behind her. 'This is going to hurt.' He gave her a shove and she went flying back into herself.

---

Taylor's eyes shot open. And the first thing she saw was Aiden. 'I didn't pick heaven, did I? Am I dead?'

Aiden grinned at her. 'No, you are very much alive. Welcome back to the land of the living… and the dead…' she shrugged. 'Glad you're awake.'

Taylor shifted her gaze to the rest of the room. There were dozens upon dozens of flowers – namely roses (which she assumed to be from her father), balloons, and more cards than she was sure she knew people. Finally, her eyes settled on the figure asleep in the chair next to her. 'Sam?'

'He turned up about two months ago with Dean,' Aiden explained. 'Aw, crap,' she muttered as she realized what she had said.

'Two months?' Taylor croaked. 'I've been here for two months?'

Aiden was going to correct her when the door opened.

Taylor nearly passed out from the shock, as Dean, Marty and _her brother, Chris_ walked in.

'You should have seen his face,' Dean laughed with Marty and Chris.

'Itching powder?' Marty cackled.

'Why do I get the feeling that you're laughing at me?' Sam asked with a yawn as he stretched awake.

'Why don't you tell them about the Jell-o i-' Taylor started to croak, but was cut off by several yells and all four men crowding her.

'Drew!' Dean cried.

'You're awake!' Chris wrapped his arms around her.

'You're here!' Taylor countered hoarsely.

As Chris pulled away, Marty placed the back of his hand on her forehead. 'How are you feeling?'

'Like crap,' Taylor croaked.

'Here,' said Sam, leaning to offer her some water.

Taylor drank it hungrily. 'Two months?' she repeated when she'd finished. 'Have I really been here that long?'

Marty nodded. ''Fraid so.'

'So, why are you here? Well, yeah, all of you. I mean, Marty, you're supposed to be in St Louis, and you two,' she indicated to Sam and Dean, 'I actually have no idea what you two should be doing, but I'm certain it should be more meaningful than sitting beside my bed and watching me sleep.'

'Taylor,' said Marty softly, 'my gig in St. Louis was up weeks ago. It's the end of February.'

'You mean I've missed Christmas, and my birthday?'

Marty nodded.

'Well, that explains why you're here,' she looked at Chris. 'Actually, no it doesn't. I thought you'd be on parole.'

'I am, only Dad managed to arrange it here, so I could keep an eye on you and I didn't want Cordelia to be pulled from another school.'

'How is Cordelia?'

Chris smiled proudly. 'She's top of her class. And she's living with me, thanks again to Dad.' He looked at his watch. 'Actually, she should be getting out of school in a bit. I'll have to go soon and get her.'

Taylor smiled. 'That's really good, Chris. What about you two?' she asked Sam and Dean.

Dean looked over at Chris before replying. 'We're private investigators now. Had a couple of cases that crossed over with New York's finest. And I'm telling you, some of them most certainly are fine. Sammy here even has a crush on one of them.'

'It's Sam,' Sam snapped, glaring at Dean. 'And she just reminds me a lot of someone.'

'Who?' Taylor asked.

'Detective Angell.'

'Sorry, Sam,' Taylor apologized. 'But you're so far from her type.'

Dean smirked. 'Oh yeah.'

'I told you, she reminds me of someone,' Sam repeated, glancing out of the window.

Dean coughed. 'Anyway.'

'What happened,' Taylor asked softly. 'To me, I mean,' after Dean shot her a glare. 'I know I got shot, but what happened to me that meant I was unconscious for so long?'

'In all honesty, no one really knows. To this day, and I've had a look at the scans, Tay, you were dead. You were being kept alive by a machine, but when it was turned off, your heart kept beating,' Marty told her.

'What about Dad?' Taylor asked quietly.

'It took a while to get through to him,' Chris explained. 'He flew straight back as soon as he heard. He's actually at your place with our mother.'

'Mama's here?' Taylor groaned.

'She's been looking after Cordelia.'

'Hang on,' Taylor frowned. 'No offence, Chris, but the last time I checked, you didn't exist to her.'

Chris nodded. 'Nearly losing one child can make you forgive your second child very quickly. That and the fact that she's always wanted a grandchild.'

'I suppose some good came from this, then,' she muttered as she tried to sit upright. Chris was quickly at her side, helping her, pushing pillows behind her. As the others pulled chairs around the bed, she took in all the cards. 'Do I know that many people?'

Dean laughed. 'Doubt it.'

'Yeah, the press got hold of your story. They're from your fans.'

Taylor glanced around the room. 'Wow.' The amazement slowly dropped into one of slight fear. 'Where's Reggie?' she demanded.

'Who's Reggie?' Chris asked her.

'The guy who tried to kill me,' Taylor spat.

'Taylor, he's dead,' Marty told her gently. 'He was killed on the scene.'

'Oh.' Taylor sat back and frowned. 'Oh yeah. Okay, where's Felix?'

'Why?' asked Marty.

'Because as soon as Don gets here, I'm discharging myself and paying him a visit.'

'You know, that's not a very good idea,' Sam told her.

'Maybe not, but plucking his eyeballs out with a spoon, and stabbing him with a screwdriver will make me feel better,' Taylor told him venomously.

'Someone's rageful,' Dean smirked.

Taylor turned to him. 'He very nearly had me killed, he had Louie killed, he had my apartment burnt down, tried to frame me for possession and intent to supply of an obscene amount of heroin, and he tried to frame me for murder.'

Dean shrugged. 'And that's worth getting sent down yourself is it?'

'He drove my car into the _Hudson_,' Taylor cried.

Dean's expression changed instantly. 'He drove your GTO into the Hudson?'

Taylor nodded.

'Hell, I'll pin him down if you want.'

'Smooth, Dean. Show more concern for the car.'

Dean turned to his brother and pulled a face. 'What? The Impala is the most important thing in my life. You _know_ I'd be getting revenge if something happened to that.'

Sam looked put out. 'The most important thing in your life?'

'Relax, Sammy,' Dean laughed. 'I'd put you before my car.'

Sam smiled. 'It's Sam. And you better had.'

Dean grinned. 'Most of the time, anyway.'

Taylor's eyes hadn't left Marty's for the majority of the conversation. 'What aren't you telling me? What happened to Felix? And where's Don?'

Marty's eyes narrowed. 'Maybe you should ask Flack,' he muttered.

'I would,' Taylor said slowly. 'But he's not here and you are.'

'I think it's time I went to pick Cordelia up,' Chris announced looking at his watch. 'I'll see you later, Tay,' he told her leaning over and kissing her cheek before the two of them left.

'I think it's time we took care of that thing,' said Sam.

Taylor looked over at Dean who was leaning back in his chair, grinning at her.

'Dean!' Sam called.

Dean looked at Sam. 'What?'

'We need to go do that thing.'

Dean frowned. 'What thing?'

'You know, that _thing_.' Sam emphasized before nodding his head at Marty.

'Oh,' Dean said, drawing out the word as he worked out what Sam was implying, 'yeah, _that_ thing. Catch ya later, Drew.'

Taylor waited until they three were gone until she turned to Marty, arms folded. 'Spill, Marty. And I want to hear all of it.'

Marty exhaled softly. 'Alright. Flack hasn't been in here since he realized that you weren't dead. He hasn't been back to the house. He's barely left the precinct unless it's to follow a lead.'

Taylor stared at him, her face expressionless.

'I finished the semester in St. Louis early – I had my TA grade the papers.' He shook his head. 'Cordelia had been living with Rikki, Taylor. Flack just left her with her. I, uh, moved into your spare room, so that Cordelia could have her own room back,' he added quickly, checking to see what Taylor's reaction was. She just nodded blankly. 'And to top it off, some rookie's just got killed on his watch.'

'Oh,' Taylor mouthed.

'You had me worried,' Marty told her. 'You had us all worried.'

Taylor nodded. 'Thank you. For believing in me.'

Marty smiled. 'How are you feeling?'

Taylor sighed. 'Honestly? I ache all over. I think the pain medication is wearing off.'

'You want me to get a nurse?'

Taylor smiled. 'I'd rather sit with you before they come flocking in here.'

'Ah, Miss Turner,' the doctor's voice boomed from the doorway. 'So you are awake.'

'That didn't last as long as I hoped,' Taylor muttered.

'I'll just be outside,' Marty told her.

'We're going to have to perform some tests, doctor,' the doctor told him. 'She may be resting when you return.'

'I've been asleep for months,' Taylor objected.

'Trust me, you will be sleeping,' the doctor told him calmly as he ushered Marty out of the room.

---

The doctor was right. When Taylor awoke again, however, this time she had a new visitor. Lindsay. Her hair had grown long – half way down her back – but then again, Taylor had been in a coma for several months. She looked different though. Younger… if that was possible.

'Hey Lindsay,' Taylor croaked, feeling annoyed that her voice was still raspy. 'I like the hair.'

Lindsay whipped her head around and stared at her bed ridden friend. 'You can see me?'

Taylor nodded, maneuvering herself so her pillows were more comfortable underneath her. 'Everything is in perfect working order according to the doctor. They're just keeping an-'

'You mean you can _really_ see me?'

'Lindsay, I'm beginning to wonder if it's me that should be in this bed,' Taylor muttered. 'Are you feeling alright?'

'I'm not Lindsay,' said… Lindsay.

'Alright,' said Taylor drawing out the word. 'I'll bite. If you're not Lindsay, who are you?'

'I'm Emma.'

'Is this some game that you've got going with Danny?'

'I'm not seeing Danny,' Emma protested.

'Why Emma?'

'It was my grandmother's name.'

'Lindsay, this is hurting my head,' Taylor sighed. 'Can we play the "I've changed my name" game later?'

'I've told you, my name isn't Lindsay. And Lindsay's not changed her name since she changed it back to Lindsay Monroe in 2001.'

Taylor arched an eyebrow. 'Ok, well, Taylor would like to know what Lindsay changed her name to, to change it back, and why Lindsay changed it in the first place.'

'It was changed to Lindsay-'

Taylor sighed. 'Seriously, can we play this game later, please?'

'You need to do something for me,' Emma/Lindsay blurted out.

'Go ahead.'

'Tell Lindsay to stop blaming herself.'

Taylor stared at her in confusion. 'You want me to tell you to stop blaming yourself.'

'No, I need you to tell _Lindsay_ to stop blaming herself. But not yet, because she's not ready to hear it yet.'

'Lindsay,' Taylor started before it turned into a coughing fit. She turned to grab the glass of water to soothe her itching throat, and when she turned back, Lindsay was gone. 'She's lost the plot,' she muttered. She settled back into her pillows as Marty stuck his head around the door.

'You're awake again,' he smiled.

'I knew you were coming.'

'In a hospital bed and still a charmer,' he grinned, walking over and handing her a bunch of flowers.

'Who's here?' Taylor asked.

'TAYLOR NICOLE TURNER!" her mother's voice bellowed into the room.

Taylor winced as she tried to shrink into the bed.

'What were you thinking?' she shrieked in English before reverting back to her native language, 'Come potreste essere così irresponsabili?'

'Mama!'

'Nicolette,' Captain Turner interrupted. 'Why don't you go and get a vase off the nurses.'

'Thanks, Daddy,' Taylor mumbled after her mother had left the room.

'Oh, don't thank me yet, Taylor. Your mother is right; what you did was completely irresponsible and reckless, but I'm glad you're alright.'

'How long are you here for?' Taylor asked her father hopefully.

Captain Turner sat down next to her and sighed. 'Sadly, I don't know. I could get recalled this very afternoon. I've been off the ship for a week now.'

'I will be staying a while longer,' her mother announced as she breezed back into the room.

'Marvelous,' Taylor said, trying to turn her grimace into a smile.

'Someone is going to have to look after you whilst this young man is at work,' Nicolette told her, smiling brightly at Marty, who she was clearly quite fond of. 'Your cooking skills are not going to aid in your recovery, nor will they keep Martin satisfactorily nourished.

'Why do we always have to bring my god damn cooking into everything?' Taylor exploded. Three minutes. That was all it took before she was ready to murder her mother.

'You will not use the Lord's name in vain in my presence!' Nicolette all but screamed.

Taylor clutched at the mattress. 'Why can't you just accept I'm never going to be any good at cooking and drop the subject?' she asked through gritted teeth.

'I actually enjoy cooking,' Marty piped up, as he placed his hand over one of Taylor's and gave it a squeeze. 'So it's somewhat a good thing that I get to cook.'

Nicolette looked from her daughter to Marty and pursed her lips. 'Perhaps it is you I should be giving my secret recipes to,' she told him by way of relenting.

Taylor smiled feeling strangely relieved, 'I think that's a very good idea.'

_

* * *

_

Wondering where Flack is? Yeah, aren't we all! I suppose I will have to show you in the next chapter!

Sorry to have you made you all wait - I have truely had the crappiest start to this week I could imagine... all your reviews have made me smile - so thank you!!


	207. I hope that you see that there's a part

_Madison Bellows - How did you manage that? Are you alright??_

_Aphina - I'm well aware of work getting in the way, so don't you worry - I just hope it calms down for you! I've been enjoying writing Flack at the mo, because I've been able to go a bit dark with him - which was fun and different for me!_

_Bmangaka - you're right, on both accounts (:P) And, if it's alright with you - I will!_

_demolished-soul - No, you're right! Marty is back for good too!_

_sparkyCSI - I'm busy multi-tasking - posting this and betaing your chapters. I think I have some for you too - I just need to work out which I've already sent you_

_RK9 - It wasn't as evil as the previous ones have been though! Okay then - don't tell me! See if I care *sob* (:P)_

_ah-dorably key-ute - No, you're right. That is who she is!_

_AngelicStars - lol, I was wondering who would pick up on that reference!_

_Carrie Michelle - lol, I remember hearing the song as I was writing it, and it seemed to fit perfectly. Flack's in this one, but he's not going to be seeing Taylor just yet, I'm afraid!_

_Trizzy - They killed Charlie?? Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo *takes gulp of needed air* ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!_

_meadow567 - Yup, yup! But I can't remember why...! (:P)_

_ambercsiny - I hope I keep surprising you! And let's find out..._

****

* * *

What The Eyes Can't See

**Chapter 206: I hope that you see that there's a part of you that's left inside of me**

_I got troubled thoughts  
And the self-esteem to match  
What a catch, what a catch_

_You'll never catch us  
So just let me be  
Said I'll be fine  
Till the hospital or American Embassy  
Miss Flack said I still want you back  
Yeah, Miss Flack said I still want you back_

_I got troubled thoughts  
And the self-esteem to match  
What a catch, what a catch  
And all I can think of  
Is the way I'm the one  
Who charmed the one  
Who gave up on you  
Who gave up on you_

What A Catch Donnie, Fall Out Boy

The next set of visitors Taylor had came the following day. Whilst her parents had returned in the morning, they had gone back by the afternoon so that they could watch Cordelia when she returned from school.

According to her mother, who was more than willing to tell Taylor (much to her surprise) Chris' parole officer had landed him a job as a mechanic with reasonable hours so that he could be at home long enough to spend some quality time with his daughter. Nicolette, who was positively thrilled at having a grandchild, had consequently questioned Taylor on how long she would have to wait before Taylor would give her some – not one, but several!

After her parent's had left, Taylor had begun the process of physical therapy. Whilst there had been no significant muscle or nerve damage, she had been in a coma for a very long time and the doctors had told her that it was something she would have to undergo for some time.

By the time the evening visiting hours had rolled around, Taylor was well rested and eager for some more company. So, at seven o'clock on the dot when Marty poked his head around the door, whilst she was happy to have some company, she was a little upset that it wasn't Flack, who still hadn't made an appearance.

'I have visitors,' Marty announced as he stepped in to allow Lindsay and Danny to enter the room.

'Hello again,' Taylor said to Lindsay.

'Again?' Lindsay questioned, walking over to the bed. 'I didn't know you were aware I was here.'

'That's what you said yesterday,' Taylor muttered, still frowning. 'When did you cut your hair?' she asked, indicating to the now shoulder-length cut.

Lindsay shrugged. 'Not that long ago.'

'And can I call you Lindsay now?'

Lindsay stared at her. 'What are you talking about?'

'Yesterday. You didn't want me to call you Lindsay. You said your name was Emma.'

Lindsay went white. 'What?' she asked with a gulp.

'You just told me,' Taylor responded.

'Um, Taylor, this is the first chance we've had to visit since you've woken up,' Danny told her gently.

Taylor looked from Lindsay to Danny and then to Marty, who was looking worried. 'All these pain meds are making me crazy,' she shrugged, wondering what was going on, but not willing to press it further. 'So, what crazy cases have you guys been working on?'

'We had an interesting one with cockroaches,' Danny answered, still frowning at her.

'Do I want to hear this?' Taylor frowned.

'Apparently they're the new trend,' Lindsay explained. 'You wear them like jewellery.'

'Why the hell would I want to wear a dead cockroach?' Taylor exclaimed. 'That's gross.'

'No, the cockroaches are alive,' Danny told her.

'Ew! Why the hell would anyone want to wear a living cockroach?' Taylor corrected herself, at a slightly higher pitch.

'It was covered in precious stones,' Lindsay shrugged. 'But you wouldn't catch me wearing one.'

'No, you and Danny just eat them,' Taylor muttered, earning grins from the two. 'Any other exciting cases? Or news?' Taylor shuddered, anxious to get the topic of conversation away from creepy bugs.

'The department got a postcard from Maka. She's now married and pregnant,' Danny told her.

Taylor smiled. 'Seattle must suit her then.' She looked at the three of them. 'Come on, something exciting must have happened.'

Danny shook his head. 'Nope. It seems like the world has been waiting for you to wake up.'

'Nothing? What about in the news in general? I have two months of tabloids to catch up on.'

'And you can read that when me and Danny have gone,' Marty told her with a grimace.

'Uh huh,' Taylor arched her eyebrows. 'Because you never read my Enquirer when we lived together.'

Danny burst out laughing. 'Busted.'

'Oh you can talk, Messer. Every time you have a break, you're reading some tabloid rag,' Lindsay announced, causing Danny to go red as it was Marty's turn to laugh at him.

'And on that note, we've brought board games,' said Danny as he pulled out Scrabble.

Taylor fingered the corner of her sheets. 'Out of curiosity,' she asked, trying to keep her voice light. 'Does Don know I'm awake?'

The three shared a look.

'Don't tell me none of you mentioned it to him.'

'Well,' Lindsay sighed. 'He hasn't been around as much lately. He's been busy arresting the majority of the Brooklyn Bullets.'

Taylor frowned. 'But surely you must have called him or something. I mean, even Sid came by. I barely know Sid, and Don's my fiancé.' She stared at Lindsay, who turned away. Turning her attention to Danny she shrugged. 'A text message?'

Danny scratched uncomfortably at the back of his head. 'Flack's… well, he's not been himself recently. He's only really talking to us if our paths cross in work. And that hasn't happened that much – he tends to be spending more time with the Dangerous Organizations. They're still bodies short so they're not exactly turning the manpower away.'

Taylor glanced away, shifting her eyes to the windows – the other side to her friends – in an attempt to hide the hurt and tears.

'You know, I have to go,' Marty announced, abruptly getting to his feet. 'I promised Sid I'd help him with something,' he muttered vaguely.

---

Flack stared at the amber liquid sitting in the glass tumbler in front of him. A familiar end to the day – the alcohol warming his throat as it went down seemed to be the only thing he could feel these days. That and the satisfaction of arresting the members of the Brooklyn Bullets, one by one. Although it was an empty satisfaction. Over the last two months, he had been working diligently, following any and every lead he had in an attempt to bring the gang crashing to its feet. And it had worked.

Truth be told, the drink could be classed as a celebratory drink. Today he had finally found, arrested, and shot, the last remaining member of the Bullets: Felix Bohr. But it was still an empty victory. And that was before anyone could take into consideration exactly what had happened. And the only other two people who knew were dead.

_---_

_Flack strapped the Kevlar vest on to his torso as tight as it would go. There was one person left and today was going to be the day he got his revenge._

_'Shouldn't we wait for backup?'_

_Flack ignored his partner. Chin Yip was a fresh faced rookie detective, just transferred in from a precinct in Queens to the still low staffed Dangerous Organizations Squad. In all honesty, Flack wasn't sure if he was good at his job or not. He was certain that Gerrard had only assigned him as his partner to keep an eye on him, and he was probably reporting back to him on his every move, but Flack just ignored him. Hell, he'd been strung up four times in the last week alone for leaving his partner behind._

_And now, he was about to do the same. He had one objective and one objective only: find Felix Bohr. 'I'm going in. You can wait here if you want,' he told him, checking his gun was ready._

_'We're supposed to stick together,' Yip told him._

_'Then stick with me,' Flack shot at him. 'Because I'm not waiting for backup.' He hardly waited for Yip as he headed to the house his source had told him Bohr was in. 'I'll take the back.' Yip shook his head and he moved towards the front of the house._

_He crept around the house, peaking in the windows as he went. From his route, he couldn't see anyone. This better hadn't be a bust, he grumbled in his thoughts as he tried the back door. It was unlocked. He took a breath and pushed it open, sneaking into the dirty kitchen. He was just about to walk into the hallway when he heard the shots. The stealth disappeared as he burst into the room they had originated from._

_In front of him, with his back to him, was Felix. His gun still pointed at Yip, who was lying in a pool of his own blood, eyes wide open and staring blankly in front of him. 'I've been waiting for this for a while,' Flack told Bohr, his partner's lifeless body barely registering._

_Bohr slowly dropped the gun on the floor before turning around, his hands slowly rising above his head. 'I was wondering how long it would be before you found me.'_

_'It doesn't matter how long it took,' Flack told him. 'I was going to find you. And now that I've done that, I'm going to kill you.'_

_Bohr narrowed his eyes. 'I'm unarmed. You won't kill me.'_

_'Really,' Flack asked, his eyebrows reaching his hair as they shot up in mock surprise. 'What makes you think that? I mean, you're the reason my fiancé is in a coma. You took her away from me, and I have nothing left to lose.'_

_Bohr looked visibly worried. 'I'm unarmed. You won't shoot an unarmed person.'_

_'You shot my partner. Then you turned to shoot me. It was self defense,' Flack shrugged, his face emotionless._

_'You wouldn't kill me,' Bohr told him. 'I'm not going to move until your ba-'_

_Flack squeezed the trigger, unblinking. _

_Bohr sank to his knees, mouth open as he looked down at the blood trickling from his chest. He looked up in disbelief._

_Flack smiled as he pulled the trigger seven more times, unloading the clip into his chest. Slowly he lowered his gun. 'That was for Taylor,' he told the body, calmly. Then, he pulled his phone out, dialing dispatch. 'I have an officer down…!' he yelled into his phone, faking concern at the dead officer._

_---_

Lost in his thoughts, Flack was only vaguely aware of the other patrons of the quiet bar. Until the stool next to him was pulled out and someone sat down, facing him rather than the bar.

'Oh look at that: drowning your sorrows.'

'Piss of, Pino,' he muttered, taking a mouthful of the JD. He'd had another day from hell and the last thing he wanted to do was listen to the ME preach at him.

'Hey, I've got another twelve hours before visiting hours at Mercy to sit here,' Marty told him.

Flack's fist tightened around the glass, but he didn't say anything.

'Of course, I could probably stay the night and no one would mind. Especially not Taylor.'

The glass went flying as it was side swept as Flack got to his feet, his fist connecting with Marty's face. 'You stay away from Taylor!' he roared.

Marty swung back, his punch sending Flack reeling backwards, blood pouring from his nose. And then Flack was on his feet, tackling Marty into an unfortunately placed table.

Lindsay and Danny walked into the bar to find several officers trying to break up a brawl between two of their friends. 'Can't say I didn't see this one coming,' Danny muttered to Lindsay as they both hurried across the bar to help split the two fighting men up.

Finally, there was space between them. In an exasperated huff, Marty yanked his hands free from the grip they were in. 'You know what, Flack? You're not worth this,' he spat at him, gingerly touching his eye where Flack had managed to clock him. 'And I hope that Taylor works that one out soon, because you are breaking her.' Straightening his jacket, he turned and stormed out of the bar.

'Jerk,' Flack muttered, wiping at the blood at his mouth.

'Oh, you're just as big a jerk,' Lindsay fumed, punching his arm hard.

'What the hell was that for?' Flack snapped, glaring down at the shorter woman.

'Oh, grow up, Flack, for God's sake,' Lindsay snapped back. 'What the hell happened to you?'

'Pino punched me,' he growled at her.

'Yeah, and you know what? You damn well deserved it,' she retorted angrily, pushing him to the back corner of the bar and sitting him down, waving Danny off as she did so. 'Now sit down there and wait until I come back,' she ordered. She disappeared back to the bar and returned a few minutes later, slamming a drink in front of the detective, and placing an ice pack, a little harder than was necessary, against his cheek.

'That had better be Irish,' Flack muttered, eyeing the coffee in front of him as he snatched the icepack from Lindsay and held it against his face.

'You have had enough to drink,' Lindsay told him shortly. 'It's about time you sobered up and faced reality. Surely you can't expect to spend your suspension drunk? Yeah, I know about that,' she told him, catching the suspicious look he was shooting her. 'The whole damn precinct knows you've been suspended, Flack. But what I don't understand is why you didn't wait for backup? It's not like you,' she frowned. 'Or should I say, it's not like the old Flack I used to know.'

'Oh, piss off, Lindsay,' he murmured. It earned him a slap around the un-bruised side of his face.

'I'm not stupid, Flack,' Lindsay told him, ignoring the glare he was shooting at her. 'I know exactly what you're doing.'

'You don't know crap,' Flack shot at her.

Lindsay's eyes narrowed as she leant in. 'Don't I?' she asked him. 'I know a damn sight more than you do. Do you think that your friends haven't noticed this crusade you're on? How the Brooklyn Bullets are now none existent thanks to you not sleeping and making it a personal mission to get them all behind bars?'

'And how is that a bad thing?' Flack asked her.

'Oh, I don't know,' Lindsay shrugged. 'Could it be that you're now on suspension for going against protocol and entering a building without backup – that your partner is dead? That the rules that you once stuck so rigorously to have gone aside so you can deal with your own guilt?'

'You don't know crap,' Flack snapped.

'That's just it, Flack,' Lindsay cried in exasperation. 'I do. You think you gave up on Taylor and that you have to redeem yourself. And that the only way you think you can do that is by going after those who put you in that situation. You're displacing your guilt on them, and guess what? It's not working?'

'You don't kno-'

'Know crap?' Lindsay finished. 'Alright; the Brooklyn Bullets are no more, Felix Bohr is dead, and Taylor is awake. If you're feeling better, why the hell are you drowning your sorrows in a bottle of Jack and not spending time with your fiancé?'

Flack blinked. 'Taylor's awake?' He wasn't drinking because he cared that the cop was dead. No, as far as Flack was concerned, Yip was an unfortunate means to an end – he'd been told to wait for backup and it was his own fault he was now on that cold morgue table. He was drinking because, ever since he'd walked out of Taylor's room, all he had felt was numb. And alcohol was nothing more than him giving himself a justifiable reason for feeling nothing. But to hear that Taylor was awake? Even the whiskey couldn't mask the stabbing pain he was beginning to experience.

'Yes, Don. She's awake,' Lindsay snapped at him.

'Why the hell didn't anyone tell me?' he asked, glaring at her.

'Flack, have you even bothered looking at your phone? We've left dozens of voicemails, sent countless texts… or did you just delete everything from us?'

Flack just glared at her. Although he wasn't going to admit it, she had hit the nail on the head. The messages in the beginning had been asking if he was alright, whether or not he needed to talk… all kinds of crap he got tired of very quickly. All too soon it was becoming automatic to hit the delete button.

Lindsay shook her head in disbelief. She didn't need him to admit to it – she could see it in his face. 'Well that's your own fault then, isn't it? We have been trying to get a hold of you for days.' Her hands moved to her hips. 'Well? What are you still doing here? Or are you ignoring Taylor too?'

'You don't kno-'

'Then ENLIGHTEN ME!' Lindsay bellowed. 'Why are you still here?'

'Because she can do better than someone who gave up on her, alright?'

'That's a load of bull,' Lindsay yelled at him. 'Your friends don't give a crap whether you gave up or not, Taylor doesn't give a crap, and I think the only thing Taylor is gonna do when she finds out why you haven't been there, is support you, because she loves you. So stop being a selfish jerk and get your ass down to that hospital, Donald Flack.'

Flack stood up. 'I don't deserve her support,' he muttered, before walking away.

'Acting like this? No you don't!' Lindsay yelled after him. She turned to Danny who had walked over to join her. 'God, I wanna slap him,' she muttered.

'You did,' Danny sighed.

Lindsay sat down heavily in the booth. 'I hope I got through to him.'

Danny stared at the door. 'I think you started to,' he muttered. 'I just hope he can figure it out himself. Before he does something he regrets.'

_

* * *

_

_Okay, so i'm not one for putting lyrics at the start of my fics, as you've noticed, but I was persuaded to put up songs lyrics that might sum up the chapter - thanks Mel - and I heard this and thought it was perfect!_


	208. I feel like you're gone And every day

_joy1791 - thank you! And thank you for sticking with my baby! lol, if I'm honest, I keep wondering where she is too!_

_Trizzy - I will have lots of fluff for you - I will. I will start writing it for you now!!! And don't worry about Charlie_

_demolished-soul - Marty's supposed to be back in the actual show in a couple of episodes time, although I'm not sure I like the sound of what's gonna happen with him (:S)_

_ambercsiny - sorry it's taken me so long to update - when I could get on the web earlier this week, FF wasn't playing!_

_sparkyCSI - I know what you mean. I was supposed to be about last weekend... but then the SoCo called. And my boot got stuck. Ah well... but I should definately be about this weekend!_

_Carrie Michelle - knight in a squad car - I like that! He'll be back! I can't keep them away too long!_

_Alana Xavier1 - thank you. Yes, he did. He'll be getting past his issues soon!_

_ah-dorably key-ute - Hmmm, I'm not sure what's gonna happen is what you expect... but I think things need clearing up._

_meadow567 - I think I want to slap him too. And that's a very good point - he now really owes her!_

_Bmangaka - I think I can see that too - it would be fun! Who do you think would win?_

_RK9 - lol, I'm glad I can help. And I think Seymour misses his mommy - I'm sending him back to you, complete with cookies!_

_Hmmm, there aren't any spoilers, but there are mega thanks to my beta!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 207: I feel like you're gone, And every day is the worst day ever**

Two and a half weeks later, Taylor was bored. Sam and Dean had left, muttering something about a ghost on a Hollywood set; her father had been shipped back out; and her mother was still hovering around. Between visiting hours she had been busy with the physical therapist (over two months in a coma hadn't done her muscles much good) although she had had the constant company of Maddy, who always seemed to know when these sessions would take place and would accompany her.

Lindsay, or Emma, had not been back. Well, Lindsay had, with Danny. Angell and her girlfriend had been, as had Peyton and Stella. Even Mac had made an appearance.

But Taylor was bored. She was still pretty much confined to her room, and Flack still hadn't appeared. Instead of feeling sorry for herself over that, she was growing more and more pissed off with him. And more importantly, worried.

News of what had happened with him had slowly filtered back to her, as well as the fact that he was due his first day back at work after the weekend and had been assigned a new partner. Although, the only information Angell could give her was the woman was a transfer from Utah.

'Good news,' the doctor boomed, entering the room. 'As far as I can tell, there's no reason why you should stay here any longer. I'll gather together some pain medication for you and you're going to have to return for regular check-ups, but I can't see why we can't have you discharged within the hour, if that's alright with you?'

Taylor nodded, 'I think I've had enough of hospitals for a very long time.'

'Do you need me to call a taxi, or will someone be coming to collect you?'

'I'll find someone,' Taylor assured him. She waited until he had left the room before extracting her cell phone from out of her bag. Sure, it was perfectly okay to use a cell phone in a hospital – so long as there was no life support machine in the room, but it still made her feel guilty. She'd insisted that Marty get her a new phone and bring it in for her, under the pretense that she was texting her friends to keep her entertained whilst she was waiting for the next visiting hours, as well as being able to get on the internet and check her emails and Facebook account. But it was also there, just in case Flack decided to text her. Which he hadn't.

Minutes later, she had secured a ride; and a while after that, just as she was struggling to get her shoes on, Adam appeared in the doorway. 'Hi,' he greeted her a little uncomfortably. They were nothing more than acquaintances, really, and whilst he couldn't say no to her, he wasn't sure why she'd asked him there.

'Hey Adam, thanks for coming,' Taylor smiled at him.

Adam nodded. 'My car's downstairs,' he told her, searching for something to say to fill the silence.

Taylor just nodded, grabbing at her bag, but as she winced in pain, Adam was there to scoop the bag up for her.

'I don't think so,' an orderly gasped as he spotted Taylor on her feet.

'I can walk, you know,' she grumbled to the orderly who was pushing the wheelchair the doctor had insisted she be wheeled out in.

The orderly just ignored her and continued pushing her to where Adam had pulled his Ford Focus up.

After Adam had loaded her belongings into the trunk, he helped Taylor into the passenger seat and they left. They were barely out of the hospital parking lot before Taylor wound the window down and placed her face into the icy wind which was blowing into the car.

'Taylor, it's March!' Adam exclaimed as he pressed a button and rolled her window back up.

'I know,' Taylor smiled happily. 'But it feels good to be out.' She leant forward, ignoring the dull pain that was throbbing in her stomach, and began rooting through the glove compartment until she found a CD of Adam's she liked.

She jammed it in the CD player and was soon singing along to Collective Soul's _Better Now_.

'_Oh I'm newly calibrated  
All shiny and clean  
I'm your recent adaptation  
Time to redefine me_

_Let the word out I've got to get out  
Oh I'm feeling better now  
Break the news out I've got to get out  
Oh I'm feeling better now.'_

Adam pulled over and turned the radio down. 'Look, it's not that I'm not happy to see you alive and about, but what am I doing driving you home? Surely there is someone better suited to that?'

Taylor sighed. 'Not really. I just wanted a ride home without someone asking me every five minutes if I was alright, needed something, wanted to stay with them for a while… I just want to pretend for a while that everything's normal.'

Adam slipped the car into park and shifted round in his seat. 'You wanna go get a burger?'

Taylor gave him a grateful smile. 'I would love nothing better.'

'Come on then,' Adam nodded his head at a burger bar just up from where they had parked. 'I never had a problem with hospital food, but I don't think many other people feel like that.'

Taylor hopped out of the car and followed him to the small diner, slipping into a booth. 'You've spent a lot of time in hospital?'

Adam nodded, reaching for the salt and pepper pots. 'Yeah. When I was younger.'

Taylor sat, studying him. He had grown quiet – quieter than normal, and he seemed unable to look away from the shakers in his hand.

'You alright there?' a waitress asked, finally giving him something to look at.

'Yeah, I'll have a double bacon cheeseburger, fries and a strawberry shake,' he told her, his eyes lighting up at the thought of food.

'I'll have the same, minus the bacon,' Taylor agreed. She waited until the woman had returned with the drinks. 'So… how's Kendall?'

Adam's hands went back to the salt. 'She's gone.'

'Gone?' Taylor asked, kicking herself for her nosiness.

'Got a job in a private lab in Jersey.'

'You can still see her though?' she asked.

'I could,' was all he said.

Taylor took a sip of the shake. Clearly, she wasn't making the best conversation. 'Do you have any brothers or sisters?' she asked him.

'Older brother,' Adam replied, a genuine smile finally finding his face. 'Christian. He's a social worker. Back in Phoenix. And a younger sister. She works for the Phoenix PD.'

'Do you get to see them much?'

Adam shook his head. 'Not really. I'd like to see more of them, but our jobs just get in the way,' he explained as the burgers arrived. 'Christian has two boys, eight and four.'

They chatted amicably about their siblings over the food, carrying on the conversation in the car, until they pulled up outside Taylor's. Adam glanced out of the window. 'You didn't tell anyone you were being released, did you?' he asked her nervously.

Taylor looked up spotting her ever angry looking mother, and Marty looking just as mad. 'Um, that would be a no,' she muttered.

---

It was the day of Chin Yip's funeral. Flack hadn't gone to the ceremony. He hadn't gone to the burial. As it happened, he was still suspended and he hadn't gone to work either. Instead, he was lying on the bed of the motel room he had been renting since Christmas, staring at a photograph. It was one of his favorites, taken by a friendly German tourist at the Grand Canyon. He was standing with his arms wrapped around Taylor, to the right of the photograph, and the wind was whipping Taylor's hair about, but they both looked happy and on top of the world. Literally.

And as he stared at it, he realized how much he missed his crazy black haired beauty.

With a groan, he pulled himself into a sitting position and grabbed the photograph. The Bullets were no more, and it was time to tell his Taylor how sorry he was.

---

Taylor set the remote down and yawned. Since getting home, four days ago, aside from listening to her mother nag, all she had done was watch a combination of _America's Next Top Model, Whose Line is it Anyway?_ and reruns of _Sex and the City._ And much as she loved them, she was bored. She hadn't been visited by any ghost – not even Maddy or Aiden – and, quite surprisingly, she actually missed it.

Leaving her mother a note, who was out with Cordelia, she decided enough was enough. She got dressed, pulled a coat on and headed out of the door and to the subway. If nothing else, she was going to get an assignment off Alex and get back to writing again.

She was walking down the corridor to Alex's office when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye as she walked past one of the offices. She stopped and walked backwards so that she was standing in front of the door and stared, her mouth hanging open. In the middle of the room, suspended from the rafters, was a man, staring open eyes at her, unblinking. Taylor looked around, before turning her attention back to the man in the noose. He shifted his focus onto her.

Taylor took a deep breath and hurried away. 'Pain meds and too much TV,' she muttered under her breath as she carried on.

Alex wasn't alone. He was in the middle of what looked like quite a serious conversation with a woman. She looked to be about forty-five, quite stout, her graying hair short and spiky, with bright green eyes staring quizzically at her behind thick red spectacles.

'Taylor? We weren't expecting you back so soon,' Alex told her, hurrying over to the other side of his abnormally large desk to envelope her in a hug. 'You look well.'

Taylor smiled, guessing he was commenting on the fact she no longer looked quite so anorexic – IV nutrients and a healthy feeding plan from her doctors in the hospital, combined with a lack of gut-retching ghosts meant that food was doing its job properly. He obviously wasn't talking about anything else, because Taylor was still looking a little gaunt, and there were still decent sized bags under her eyes. 'I got bored,' she offered by way of explanation. 'The doctors may have told me to take it easy for a while, but I can still sit and type.'

'Glad to hear it,' Alex beamed. 'And you've just come at the right time. Taylor, this is Nancy Wicker.'

'Hi,' Taylor greeted her, shaking her hand. She looked quizzically at Alex.

Alex sighed and sat himself back down at his desk. 'Taylor, Nancy is the new Editor-in-Chief.'

'You're leaving?' Taylor exclaimed in surprise.

Alex nodded. 'It's my heart.'

'But what are you going to do?' Taylor blurted out.

Alex chuckled. 'It's about time I made time for my daughters.'

'And you're going to be leaving this paper in very capable hands,' Nancy told him, her voice firm, and thick with a Brooklyn accent.

'I know that I am,' Alex agreed.

Nancy turned to Alex. 'Look, why don't you take the rest of the week and come in Monday morning. We'll have a little meeting and discuss the future.'

Taylor blinked.

'Don't worry,' Alex reassured her. 'The only person who's going is me.'

---

The two men were still there when Taylor was leaving an hour later. She could see them from the corner of her eye as she hurried past, refusing to look. She burst out of the building and took a deep breath. She was about to head home when she noticed them. The streets weren't covered in them, per se, yet they were everywhere. Ghosts. With hairstyles and clothing that could have put them in just about every century possible.

There was a man heading in her direction, desperately trying to communicate with the woman he was walking with. He stopped when he noticed that Taylor was watching.

'You can see me, can't you?'

Taylor nodded slowly. She was terrified. The only ghosts she had ever encountered without Maddy or Aiden present usually hurt her. She backed up until her back hit the building behind her.

'You have to help me,' he told her, edging closer.

'How?' Taylor just about managed to ask.

'You have to stop Ann.'

'Please don't hurt me,' Taylor whimpered.

The ghost looked puzzled. 'I'm not going to hurt you, I just-'

Taylor never heard the end of his sentence as she bolted out from under his arms and ran into the subway. She didn't stop running until she was waiting for her train on the platform, leaning against the wall as she clutched at her side in pain. She wiped the tears from her face and looked around. And yet the ghosts were everywhere down there too. Taylor quickly looked down at her feet, praying that if she didn't look at them, they wouldn't realize she could see them.

---

Flack pulled up outside a florist and hurried in. He didn't buy her flowers very often. But today, he was going for an enormous bunch of yellow roses, blueberry delphiniums, and some citrus antirrhinums. He charged the flowers to his card and walked out, heading home.

'Taylor?' Flack called out as he walked in the house. He dropped his bag on the floor, and his keys on the table under the mirror before heading into the living room, expecting to find her fast asleep on the couch. Finding it empty, he frowned and kicked his shoes off, draped his jacket over the back of the couch and loosened his tie.

'Taylor?' he called again, picking up the bunch of flowers he had bought her, and headed up the stairs. As he was walking up, he noticed something on the floorboards. He paused and poked at it. Bringing the incriminating white substance up to his face, he frowned, before licking his finger. 'Taylor? Why is there salt all over the floor?' he shouted up the stairs. 'Taylor?'

Without a second thought, he dropped the flowers and pulled out his gun, dashing up the stairs. The trail of salt led to their bedroom. He burst in, gun scanning the room and finding it clear, and was about to leave and check the other rooms, when he heard muffled sobbing. He hurried over to the bathroom and pulled the door open to find Taylor huddled up in the corner of the shower, salt all over the room.

He put his gun away as he ran over to her, 'Taylor?'

'They're everywhere, Don,' she told him, staring past him into the doorway.

'What are?' he asked her softly, feeling her tense up in his arms.

'You remember Cordelia's imaginary friend, Robin?' she asked him, her voice her whisper. 'Well,' she continued at his nod. 'He's not so imaginary,' she whispered as she stared at the little boy who was watching her from their bedroom, his pale blue pajamas slightly singed, a trail of soot under his nose.


	209. Heal Me, Hurt Me, Make Me Live Again

_The Corrupter - I'm not borrowing any characters, no. It was merely conversation, and I'm not sure if his siblings will ever turn up in this story. Flack's got a lot of making up to do, but he'll get there! And I hope you've forgiven me and stopped crying now!_

_Trizzy - Hey, I love that song. And my music collection is... interesting. But I DJ, so I do have an excuse (does it count as an excuse if I listen to it all anyway?) Have I waited that long to update? I tried at the beginning of the week, but the site was being a pain and I think I got distracted. I think some questions will be answered soon, and I'm well aware of just how much fluff I owe, don't worry!_

_demolished-soul - I'm with you on that. Misled, maybe, but not bad! He's gonna come through for her, don't worry!_

_sparkyCSI - It does make sense. And I'm sorry I've not been online. I don't even remember what I've done, other than go watch Confessions of a Shopaholic last night... which felt like another film of my life. Grrr._

_Madison Bellows - I love Adam, especially with the recent episodes and I just wanted to use him a little more - I realised that we didn't know much about him in my fic._

_Carrie Michelle - *checks* yeah, I think a lot of the explanation is in this chapter - and he definately owes it!_

_ah-dorably key-ute - thank you, and I hope I haven't left you waiting too long!_

_joy1791 - lol, if that excuse flies, you have to let me know!_

_ambercsiny - it was an inspiration! I'm gonna get that chapter back to you asap!_

_Bmangaka - You're right - but they could probably 'bump' into the guns! Yeah, I think Mac would kick everyone's butts!_

_Aphina - i put the girl through so much, it's about time she had some form of reaction to it. I want to get back into this, but I've been so distracted with everything, I think my 'therapy' chapter has been what I needed!_

_meadow567 - Ghost Town I have no idea about, but definately yes on the others!_

_RK9 - I have only seen up to the season 2 finale of GW, so I have no idea what's happened with Jim and Melinda. The rabbits had fun, so don't worry! Ps, here ya go!_

_Have we got spoilers?? Hmm, nope, don't think so... so... thanks to my brilliant beta!_

**

* * *

What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 208: Heal Me, Hurt Me, Make Me Live Again**

Flack looked over his shoulder and into the empty doorway. He couldn't see anything. But then again, he could only ever see Maddy or Aiden, so that didn't really concern him. What did concern him was Taylor's reaction to the ghost – a child no less. And more concerning was that apparently Cordelia could see it. He returned his attention to Taylor. Her eyes were so red and puffy, mascara streaking down her face, that she looked like she had been curled up in the corner of the shower for hours. It also seemed that although she wasn't aware of it, she was clutching at her side in pain. 'Taylor,' he sighed, sliding down the wall to sit with her, pulling her close. 'Why has this ghost got you so worked up? What's he telling you?'

Taylor sniffed. 'You don't understand. They're everywhere, Don. The streets are full of them. Some of them are stalking the living, and some of them are oblivious – like they've forgotten that they're dead,' she told him before her voice broke in a sob again.

'Hey, hey,' Flack hushed her, squeezing her shoulders gently. 'I'm here now. You don't have to worry.'

And then, before Flack could figure out what was happening, Taylor had pulled away from him and slapped him. 'You're here _now_?' she cried. '_Now_? Where the hell have you been _until_ now?!'

His hand still touching his face where she had hit him, Flack looked away. Somehow he had been kidding himself that she hadn't noticed he hadn't been there. 'I had to make things right,' he muttered.

'Make what right, Flack?'

Flack winced. It had been a long time since she'd addressed him by his surname. 'I had to make things right for _you_,' he told her. 'For giving up on you; for turning that machine off. It's why you're mad at me, isn't it?'

'You think I'm mad at you because you turned my life support off?' Taylor cried incredulously. 'I _told_ you that I didn't want to be kept alive by a machine,' she told him. 'You think I'm mad at you because of _that_?' she repeated, outraged. 'You know what? I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now,' she snapped at him. She quickly rose to her feet and turned abruptly. And then there was a sharp stabbing pain in her abdomen and she collapsed to the floor in a cry of pain.

Flack was at her side in an instant, scooping her up and taking her through to the bedroom, ignoring Taylor's demands that he "leave her the hell alone" as he lay her on their bed. 'We should probably get a doctor to look at that,' he told her, trying to push back her top.

Taylor slapped his hand away and moved back. 'Leave me alone,' she told him.

Flack looked ready to say something, but instead took a breath and nodded. He rose to his feet and left the room, closing the door behind him.

---

Taylor looked in the mirror, as she threw some water on her face. It had taken a while but the pain in her side had finally subsided. She was ready to go and talk to Flack when she heard the voices.

'... Don't you _dare_ tell me to get out of my own house!' Flack yelled. 'You have no right.'

'You gave up your own rights when you didn't even bother to see how Taylor was doing,' Marty was bellowing back. 'And you think I'm gonna let you just waltz back in here and watch you destroy her bit by bit?'

'You think I'm being kicked out of my own house just to wait while you make your moves on my fiancé?'

'I'm being a friend,' Marty shouted at him. 'Which is a damn sight more than what you've done.'

Taylor sighed and headed down the stairs. 'Shut up, both of you,' she told them.

'Sorry,' Marty apologized. 'I was trying to get Flack to leave.'

'I am not going to leave my own house,' Flack snapped at him.

'No?' Marty asked him. 'You mean, now that it suits you, you're not going to leave it?'

'Hey!' Taylor cried. 'Give it a rest. Both of you.' She turned to Marty and smiled. 'Thank you, but I need to talk to Don.'

'Tay, you don't have to talk to him if you're not ready,' Marty hurriedly pointed out, throwing a glare at Flack.

Taylor nodded patiently. 'I know.'

Marty shot Flack a final glare before heading up the stairs.

'He's not staying here any longer,' Flack growled.

Taylor arched an eyebrow. Pursing her lips, she walked into the living room without a word and headed to the window, staring out into the night which was deceptively light due to the street lighting. It was also so she didn't have to look at the ghost of Robin.

'I'm glad you're alright,' Flack told her softly from the doorway.

'I'd never have guessed,' Taylor muttered dryly.

Flack winced, turning away. 'I'm sorry I gave up on you. I should never have turned that machine off.'

Taylor looked over at him. 'I've told you – I don't blame you for that. If I was in the same position again, I would still want you to do the same thing. That's not what upsets me.'

'Then what does?'

'The fact that you didn't come back. I mean, I can understand you had to work, and I was in a coma. But you never came to visit me in the hospital. And that hurts, Don,' she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.

'I didn't think you'd _want_ to see me,' he told her softly.

'You never gave me the chance,' she told him. 'I woke up and I saw everyone but you. Even Sid made an appearance and I barely know him. And all I wanted was you.'

'I really am sorry, Tay,' he muttered.

'Where were you?' she asked him after they had grown silent. 'What was more important?' _Than me_ she wanted to add.

Flack sat down on the couch, perching on the end. 'I wanted to make sure that you'd be safe. I _needed_ to make sure,' he corrected himself, his voice breaking.

Slowly, Taylor made her way over to the detective and knelt down in front of him. 'Thank you, Don. But you can't protect me from everything.'

'I can try,' he told her fiercely, his blue eyes looking the most determined she had ever seen them.

'And I love you for it, but I would feel a lot safer knowing you were coming home to me,' she told him, placing her hands on his knees. 'I don't know exactly what's been going on over the last couple of months, but from what I can gather you've become a little reckless in bringing down the Bullets. I don't want Mac or Stella coming to me one night, instead of you, because you got hurt.'

'I'm not going to give up being a cop,' he told her.

Taylor nodded. 'And I'm not asking you to. I just don't want a bounty hunter for a husband. Going out of your way to hunt these guys down? You work in homicide, not Dangerous Organizations. And lord knows you get yourself into enough trouble and danger dealing with dead folk.'

'I will if you will,' Flack said, taking her hands in his.

'I don't think I can,' she told him sadly. 'I had no control over them before, and now they're everywhere.'

Flack softly shook his head. 'I'm not asking you to give up the ghosts. I just don't want you going out of your way to research trouble.'

'So you want me to give up my job?'

Flack quickly shook his head. 'You don't write about current cases, Taylor. So why do you need to research the gangs in this city? You had acquired more information that the FBI and PD combined.'

'In my defense, I didn't know I was communicating with Bohr.'

'I know you didn't. Which is partly why it scares me so much: you get yourself into enough trouble and all you do is research and write.'

'Alright,' Taylor agreed.

'Same here,' Flack conceded. He frowned. 'And what about Pino?'

Taylor arched an eyebrow. '_Marty _is one of my friends, Don. And I'm sorry, but he has been there every day since I woke up. I'm not about to throw him out when he's been looking after me. You two used to be good friends. You will be again.'

Flack studied her. 'He's here, isn't he?'

Taylor gave him a puzzled look. 'He's upstairs in the guest bedroom.'

'Not Pino,' he said, gently shaking his head. 'Robin – you haven't looked in the corner behind you since you walked into the room.'

Taylor swallowed, nodding slowly.

'And you say they're everywhere?'

Taylor continued nodding as fresh tears crept to the corners of her eyes. 'But they don't all want me to help them.'

'Do they want to hurt you?' Flack quickly asked, looking like he would go for his gun, whether or not that would actually do any good, should she say yes.

'I don't think so,' she told him. 'I don't think the majority of them even realize that I can see them.'

'What does Maddy say?'

Taylor shrugged. 'I haven't seen any of them since I left the hospital. I don't even know if I want an answer.'

'I tell you what, I'll go and salt the bedroom and then maybe we should get an early night – face this in the morning.'

'Don't you have to work?'

Flack sighed. 'I'm on suspension.'

'What happened?' Taylor softly. 'I wasn't really given many details.'

'Felix Bohr,' Flack told her, not meeting her eyes. 'I went after him, didn't wait for backup, and my partner got shot. Killed.'

'I'm sorry,' Taylor sighed. 'I hope Bohr rots in jail.'

'He's dead,' Flack said shortly.

'Good,' Taylor muttered, as Flack pulled her into his arms.

---

Taylor awoke early. Leaving Flack sleeping in the bed, she slipped out and made her way downstairs to make herself a cup of cocoa.

'He stayed didn't he?' Marty asked, appearing in the doorway.

Taylor nodded, stirring a spoon around in the mug as she poured the hot water in. 'He's my fiancé, Marty. He made a mistake and I forgive him.'

'Taylor, I just want to see you happy. And I'm not sure that Flack is the one to make you happy.'

Taylor moved over to the table and eased herself into the chair, wincing slightly.

'It's still hurting?'

'A little,' Taylor admitted. 'My body might have healed, but my brain hasn't worked that out yet. And for the record, Don makes me happy.'

Marty pulled open the fridge and pulled the milk out, shutting the door and leaning against it. He took a long swig of the milk. 'You know I'll kill him if he hurts you.'

'Yes I do. And I love you for it,' she told him. 'But he won't. And use a glass,' she chided him.

'Are you sure he hasn't already? You looked like you had been crying yesterday.'

'It doesn't necessarily mean that Don is the reason I was crying.'

Marty sighed and sat down opposite her. 'Please be careful, Taylor.'

'Has the department gotten back to you yet?' Taylor asked him, changing the subject.

'It's not looking promising,' Marty sighed.

Originally, Marty's placement in Missouri was only a nine month placement, with Peyton taking his place until he returned. However, the department had been quite taken with the female ME and had offered her a permanent position. The problem being the budget wasn't big enough to pay the salaries of both Marty and Peyton.

'What are you going to do?'

'I've been in touch with an old friend over at St George's. He says he can get me a spot in the ER.'

'That's good, isn't it?'

Marty scowled. 'I shouldn't have to. They gave my job away. Which they wouldn't have done if _I_ was the one sleeping with Mac.'

Taylor pulled a face. 'Thanks for that image.'

'Well it's true,' Marty told her bitterly.

'Is there nothing you can do?' she asked him.

Marty shook his head. And then he got abruptly to his feet. 'I'm gonna go talk to my union rep. He'll tell me.' He put the milk back in the fridge and headed out of the kitchen, smiling at Nicolette as she walked in.

'I'm glad to see you are up and about,' Nicolette told Taylor as she filled the kettle up with water.

'Couldn't sleep,' Taylor muttered.

'And would you care to explain why there is _sale_ all over the house?' she asked as she dropped a teabag into a cup.

'I had an accident,' Taylor told her, lips pursed in annoyance.

'All over the house?'

'Yes,' Taylor responded through gritted teeth.

'That was my fault, Nicolette,' Flack apologized, walking into the kitchen wearing a wife beater and a pair of blue silken pajamas bottoms.

'And how is that your fault, Donald?' Nicolette asked, her tone clipped.

'I decided to vacuum the house and thought I would put some _Shake 'N' Vac_ down first,' he explained, ignoring the fact that Nicolette was shooting daggers at him as he turned the coffee machine on.

'You confused the salt with _Shake 'N' Vac_?' Nicolette asked him, clearly not believing the lame explanation.

'I'm afraid so,' he apologized, smoothly. 'Housework is not my forte.'

'Neither is it Taylor's,' Nicolette sniffed. 'And where have you been?'

There it was.

'Arresting the men responsible for putting Taylor in hospital,' Flack explained coolly, extracting the milk from the fridge.

'And you couldn't come visit _mia figlia_?'

'Drop it, Mama,' Taylor told her.

'Your mother is right,' Flack told her. 'I should have visited her, you're right,' he said, addressing Nicolette. 'And I regret not doing. But the man who did that to her is dead, and despite everything, that makes me happy.'

Nicolette pursed her lips. 'You should have visited her.'

'Yes,' Flack agreed. 'I should have. But I am here now. And I have no intention of leaving her side.'

Nicolette sniffed. 'Don't you dare let anything like that happen to her again.'

'I won't,' Flack promised.


	210. Talking to myself in public, Dodging

**_Right, y'all! I need to apologise for my disappearing spell. I've started a new job at Seven Seas (they make Cod Liver Oil!) and I spend my days in the HR department sorting out personel files. Mucho fun, but two months of not working and suddenly I can't seem to function properly. Enough excuses - I just wanted to say sorry for not updating sooner and I hope y'all forgive me!_**

_Eeron-Kyandeisu - I actually watched the episode and got really confused - my fault for mixing fiction with... fact? But I do have plot bunnies breeding on the topic. I want to incorporate it, but I think I will have to put my own twist on it! I hope you got caught up!_

_Bmangaka - lol - maybe I'll have to have Mac take them all on for a bit of fun!_

_Nienna Tinehtele - I had to write something, cryptic as that sounds, and for the purpose of the next couple of chapters, Maddy and Aiden won't really be about for the ghosts, just because it didn't work._

_Carrie Michelle - Things are different, some of it will be explained in this chapter, and that's why Maddy and Aiden aren't around. But I'm not writing them out of the story!_

_demolished-soul - I love that idea, and I am certainly playing with it. If you have any more ideas, let me know!!_

_Trizzy - I hope your gimp leg is better by now! I wouldn't dare let anyone at my phone (it houses my music) because some of the music it on it is beyond embarassing! And I love her album! lol at that image!_

_Madison Bellows - The talk was needed - I think that it always is with me though (:s) I love that song too!_

_sparkyCSI - I have sooo much planned and not enough time to write it. I think I may need to talk the latter part out with you, because I didn't write down my thoughts at the time, and now I can't remember anything!_

_joy1791 - Glad you liked and I'm sorry that it took so long to update - I know I suck! I hope this chapter answers some questions_

_meadow567 - He definately is - that's how I see him anyway. Lol, her mother would probably call out for an exorcism!_

_ambercsiny - Thanks hun! Gonna get that chapter back to you tonight!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 209: Talking to myself in public, Dodging glances on the train**

'You're up early,' Flack said, looking over at Taylor with a worried expression on his face as he sat down in the chair Marty had occupied not so long ago, as soon as Taylor's mother had vacated the room.

'I couldn't sleep,' Taylor told him.

'Because of Robin? Or because of what happened?'

'A little of both,' Taylor admitted.

Flack reached across the table and grabbed her hand. 'You know I'm not going to let anything like that happen to you again, don't you?'

Taylor nodded. 'I know. I just... sometimes I fall asleep and I can see him in my dreams.'

'Reggie,' Flack said, his response a statement rather than a question.

'Yeah,' Taylor sighed.

Flack took a long swig of his coffee. 'Would it help to talk to someone about it?'

Taylor looked down at the drink in her hands that had long since gone cold. 'I don't want to relive it,' she whispered.

Flack studied her, blue eyes meeting brown ones. 'I can understand that,' he told her. 'But it might help.'

Taylor shook her head. 'I'm not ready for that.'

'I'm not surprised,' Flack murmured. 'Just don't make yourself ill from it.'

Taylor nodded, although her head barely seemed like it was moving.

Flack frowned, noticing her tense up. 'The ghost is back, isn't he?'

Taylor nodded again.

'Have you spoken to him?'

'No,' Taylor admitted, shaking her head.

Flack inhaled deeply. 'Why?'

'Because I'm still hanging onto the idea that this is just some side effect to the coma and it's all going to go away,' she whispered, her eyes already tearing up.

'So let's call Maddy or Aiden and just ask them?' he suggested. 'Maddy? Aiden?'

The two ghosts appeared. '_Hola, __chica_,' Maddy greeted Taylor. Knowing Flack couldn't hear them, she gave him a finger wave, whilst Aiden nodded her head at the pair.

'Maddy, I need to ask you something,' Taylor said quietly. 'Is it right that I can see ghosts?'

Maddy pulled a face. 'You're questioning the fact you can see us now?'

Taylor shook her head. 'I look down the street and I see ghosts.'

'You can?' Maddy asked, sounding surprised.

'You mean I shouldn't be able to?' she asked, feeling as worried as Flack looked from the one sided conversation he was listening to.

'Well,' Aiden started. 'We were a little concerned this might happen.'

'You were "concerned"?' Taylor repeated in disbelief.

'Well, you're kind of a unique case,' Maddy offered.

'And what the hell am I supposed to do?'

Aiden shrugged at her. 'Sorry, but we have no clue. This is clean out of our jurisdiction.'

'I beg your pardon?' Taylor asked slowly. 'Out of your jurisdiction?'

'Yeah,' Maddy nodded. 'I can only help those who have recently died, and Aiden.'

'I help you,' Aiden told her.

'So help me,' Taylor shot at her.

'You don't need helping. He's five – what's he gonna do?'

'They're not _all_ five,' she told her.

'Look,' Aiden said, holding her hands out. 'If they pose a threat, I'm going to be there in a shot. But the souls that walk the streets – they're lost. Most of them don't even know why they're there, let alone the fact that they are there.'

'You're on your own on this one,' Maddy told her sympathetically. 'Sorry,' she added before the pair of them disappeared.

'They don't have a clue, do they?' Flack asked her.

Taylor shook her head. 'Nope. This is something I'm going to have to figure out by myself.'

From the kitchen counter, her cell phone, which had been charging overnight, began ringing. She got up to grab it and slid it open.

'_Where are you?'_

'Who is this?' she asked, before pulling her phone away from her ear to check the ID. Work.

'_Nancy Wicker. And you're late.'_

Taylor glanced at the clock on the cooker. It was only five after nine. And as far as she was aware, she didn't have a meeting scheduled. 'Late for what?'

'_Work_,' Nancy declared.

Taylor frowned feeling thoroughly confused. 'What work?'

'_Correct me if I am wrong, but you are a columnist for the _New York Daily_?_'

'Yes,' Taylor replied, drawing out the word.

'_And you said that you had had enough of sick leave?'_

'Yes,' Taylor said again, not sure she was liking the tone Nancy was using.

'_Then if you say you want to be back at work, I expect you there.'_

'I work from home most of the time,' Taylor explained.

'_Not anymore you don't. I expect you in this office within the hour,'_ and with that, she hung up.

'What was that about?' Flack asked her.

'Apparently I'm late for work,' Taylor told him, staring at her phone in disbelief.

'Since when?'

'Since the new editor took over,' Taylor muttered, finally lowering the phone. 'Alex has left.'

'Why?'

'For his health,' Taylor sighed. 'I guess I had better get dressed.'

---

'From now on, you work nine to five Monday through Thursday, and until four on Fridays,' Nancy told her as they walked down the corridor to Taylor's office. 'And your office is big enough for two. I want a detailed plan of your next four articles,' she added, before Taylor could protest. 'By the end of the day.' And with that, she turned and left, leaving Taylor glaring after her, mouth hanging open.

Shaking her head, she pushed open the door and walked into her office, horrified to find it had been reorganized. The couch was gone to be replaced with another desk, and a lot of her things had been dumped unceremoniously on and around her desk. She was about to let stream a choice selection of curses and cuss words, but the fact that someone was staring up at her from behind the new desk made her stop. 'Who are you?' she asked bluntly.

'Reed Garrett,' he said as he got up and walked around his desk to offer his hand.

'Did you do this?' Taylor asked, ignoring the hand as she waved hers in the direction of her desk.

Reed shook his head. 'Maintenance, I think.'

Taylor pursed her lips and eyed him up and down. He didn't look long out of college – if at all – and she was wondering if this was an elaborate prank of some description. 'And what do you do?'

'I'm a reporter,' he said, a hint of stubbornness to his tone, as if he was tired of being asked that question. 'Mainly online, but Nancy has said that I might be able to get an article published every once in a while. I'm not here to replace you,' he added, finally figuring out why Taylor was being so defensive.

'You're not?'

Reed shook his head. 'I want to make my own name, and I want to do it by writing about what's happening now – not through past cases and how-to's.' He frowned. 'No offence.'

Taylor headed over to her desk. 'No worries,' she muttered as she removed a box from her chair and dumped it on the floor. That was her same response to the majority of what had been placed on the desk. Finally finding her desk under the clutter, she pulled out a notepad. If Nancy wanted a plan, damnit, she was going to get one.

---

By five o'clock, Taylor was exhausted – and all she had done was sit behind a desk and write. Her body was clearly telling her that she had returned to work far too soon but she wasn't going to admit that to anyone. Not even herself.

She wrapped herself up and headed outside to wait for Flack who had insisted that he pick her up. Truth be told, she was extremely grateful. She wasn't ready to tackle the subway yet and she just wanted to be sat with someone she knew who wouldn't ask her pointless questions.

A beep of her phone told her that Flack was running a couple of minutes late and would soon be there. She wasn't too bothered. She was busy listening to a busker singing an old Sinatra ballad just down from her building's entrance. He wasn't too bad.

'You can see him, can't you?'

Taylor turned to see where the voice had originated from. A young woman: Curvy with pale skin, big brown eyes, and golden brown hair cut in _the_ Jennifer Aniston style. As she stared at the woman dressed all in blue, she realized that both she and the busker were dead. Thankfully, at that moment, Flack chose to arrive, beeping his horn to get her attention. Taylor quickly hurried over and got in the front seat.

'You alright?' he asked her.

Taylor nodded. 'I'm just tired. And hungry.'

'You can see me, can't you?' said the blue ghost. Casually glancing in the wing mirror, Taylor caught sight of the ghost sitting in the back.

'I'm thinking of making a paella,' Flack told her.

'Stop ignoring me!' the ghost objected.

'Sounds good,' Taylor muttered.

'Are you _sure _you're alright?' Flack asked her as he turned to look at her whilst they were sat at a red.

'I've just had a weird day,' Taylor told him. 'I now have to share an office with some blogging kid. Who for some reason, I just want to call Beaver.'

'Does he in anyway resemble a dam building rodent?'

'I need your help,' the ghost told her, trying to poke Taylor, but having little more effect than sending her hand through her chair.

'No,' Taylor responded, a little harsher than intended.

'So why Beaver?' Is he unfortunate to have that as his surname?' Flack offered, a little surprised at her tone.

'I'm not going to leave you alone, you know. You're the first person that's been able to see me in so long I've forgotten,' the ghost informed her, folding her arms.

'I don't know what it is about Reed. Maybe I'm just bitter that I have to share an office. I like my own space,' she added, for the ghost's benefit.

'Like hell that's gonna bother me,' the ghost told her.

'Reed?' Flack gave her a sideways glance. 'What's the chance that there's more than one Reed in New York and you're not talking about Reed Garrett?'

'You're not gonna have a sex-life whilst I'm around,' said the ghost. 'Never mind be able to sleep.'

'How do you know Reed?' Taylor asked, surprised.

'He's Mac's kid. Just graduated Chelsea. Whilst you were in the hospital we got a case involving Chelsea's very own Secret Society. Reed was caught up in the middle of it.'

Taylor's eyes widened. '_That's_ Mac's stepson?'

'I know a song that will get on your nerves, get on your nerves,' the ghost in the back seat began singing.

'You knew Mac had a stepson?' Flack asked her, taken aback.

'Get on your nerves, get on your nerves.'

'Yeah, I just didn't realize it was him,' Taylor said as they finally arrived back at their house.

'I KNOW A SONG THAT-'

Taylor slammed the door with a little more force than was necessary.

'-WILL GET ON YOUR NERVES, GET ON YOU NERVES!' The ghost just phased through the door.

The singing carried on whilst Flack obliviously set to making the paella, and there was nothing Taylor could do to drown it out. By the time Flack had set the food down in front of her, Taylor was stabbing at the shrimp so venomously that the plates were in danger of splitting.

'Taylor? Have I done something?'

'You know,' said the ghost, momentarily taking a break in the singing. 'I don't actually have to breath, and combined with the fact I'm never going to get a sore throat, I literally could sing all night long.

Taylor picked up the salt shaker and hurled it at the ghost so hard it sailed through her (thankfully making her disappear), narrowly missed Flack's head, and shattered against the wall behind sending salt flying everywhere.

Flack gaped at her, mouth open, fork part way to his mouth.

Taylor shut her eyes and drew in a long, deep breath. Silence.

'That wasn't very nice.'

'FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!!' Taylor bellowed.

'So you can see me!' the ghost cried.

'What did I do?' Flack asked her, complete confusion set in his face.

Taylor was about to say something but instead just held her hand up at him. Instead she turned to the ghost, meeting her gaze head on. 'Yes I can damn well see you. I am choosing to ignore you because I want to eat the wonderful meal that man,' she pointed at Flack,' has made for me. Now, I have no idea how long you've been dead, but I think you can hang on another half hour.' Her attention flicked to the small boy. 'And you can beat it too.'

'You can't talk to him like that,' the ghost objected. 'He's just a kid.'

'Yeah, because he died a kid. And I have no idea how long he's been dead for, but it isn't going to hurt him to stay dead a little longer. Now let me eat this damn rice.'

The ghost opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly trying to come up with some witty repartee, and failed. 'Fine. Half an hour.'

And finally the two ghosts disappeared.

'Taylor?'

'I'm being haunted,' Taylor sighed.

---

'I can help you.'

Taylor whirled around at the sound of the ghost, making Flack turn to try to see what had startled her. 'Who are you?'

'There's another one in here, isn't there?' Flack asked her.

Taylor nodded, pointing to the doorway where the ghost was standing, not that Flack could see it.

'Who are you?'

The ghost frowned. 'I don't remember.'

'Okay, how long have you been dead?' Taylor asked.

The ghost shrugged. 'I don't remember that either.'

'Where did you come from?'

'I don't remember.'

Taylor frowned. 'Is there anything you _do_ remember?'

'Rain,' the ghost told her. 'An excited man wearing shorts. And steps. Lots of steps.'

'That,' Taylor told her. 'Makes no sense.'

* * *

_Cookies for anyone who can guess what the ghost is refering to!!_


	211. She doesn't care what the prohpets say

_Vanessa.J - Thank you! And if you ever want any help or anything, feel free to drop me a line!!_

_ambercsiny - I'm cruel like that (:P) Hey, have you sent me anything recently - do I owe you anything back??_

_Bmangaka - I think there would be arguments - you might be right on that. Although one man beating everyone else would be entertaining!_

_Madison Bellows - I know, it knocks me for six everytime I look at my stats - it's actually really humbling! I love my job. I get to read personel files all day - and the best news I have is a room full of disciplinaries and dismissals that I need to sort out - I can't wait!_

_demolished-soul - I'll be honest - that episode upset me too. Maybe because they suddenly had him go from lovable to murderer - alright, so it was three years later, but it was three years with no mention of anything!_

_Carrie Michelle - I think he will be, yes - your feeling is right! I think I have some uses for him! lol_

_RK9 - Nope - I double-checked, but it's alright! I'm sending him back now - hopefully you're no longer ill! I haven't had a problem with the uploading, but the page loading has definately been slow!_

_sparkyCSI - nope, no cookies. I am getting this next chapter done tonight, because it has completely stopped me and I need to get past it. It may turn out pants, but I shall move on! lol_

_AngelicStars - Has the psychic connection continued, or have I lost it? It's nothing to do with any episodes or Supernatural - I may have been trying to be too clever! And thank you!_

_meadow567 - Nope! Yeah, I was definately trying to be too clever with this - I'm sorry!_

_Trizzy - Actually, that was one of the recent episodes. Yeah, she is, and yeah, apparently Marty has lost the plot completely. I think they're trying - I think they realised that a lot of people wanted Marty back... I just don't think they realised that people _liked_ Marty! They're gonna get it right one day... I hope._

_joy1791 - It wasn't an episode reference, so don't worry. I still can't make my mind up about CSI - I certainly wasn't impressed with the 200th episode! But thank you!_

_Okay, I was too cryptic with the clues - I'm sorry. You're probably gonna read this and go, "how was I supposed to work that out?" So I'm gonna give you all cookies anyway! And a couple extra to sparky for being a fab beta!_

**

* * *

**

What The Eyes Can't See

**Chapter 210: She doesn't care what the prohpets say anymore, For the love she had, She has no more**

'What's the cryptic clue?' Flack asked Taylor who was staring in bewilderment at, well, it looked like nothing, but there was most likely a ghost there.

Taylor pursed her lips. 'It's not so much a clue,' she told him. 'As it appears that I can have a conversation with her. She just doesn't seem to know who she is, or what she wants.'

'I know what I want,' the ghost objected.

'What?' Taylor asked her.

'Your help.'

'I need you to look for the light,' Flack suddenly announced, talking louder than was necessary, looking in the general direction Taylor was, but addressing the door rather than the ghost in the doorway. 'Look for that light and step into it.'

The ghost turned to Taylor. 'Is he for real?'

'Don, I don't think that's helping,' Taylor told him as she patted his arm on the way to the armchair. 'Why do you need me to help you?' she addressed the ghost.

'I need you to find someone for me. I need you to let him know I love him. Because I never told him.'

'Do you remember anything about him?' she pressed.

'He was tall, and had beautiful hazel eyes.'

Taylor sighed. 'Right, so we've narrowed it down to what, a quarter of the population?'

'What have we got?' Flack asked.

Taylor quickly repeated the sparse information.

Flack frowned. 'When she says steps... were there seventy two of them?'

'Where did you pluck that number from?'

Flack sighed, shaking his head with a look of disappointment. Not explaining further, he walked over to the DVDs, found one he was looking for and stuck it in the DVD player. Within minutes, he had skipped the scenes on the DVD and stepped back so that Taylor and the ghost could see what was playing.

'_Rocky_?' Taylor asked in disbelief as she watched Sylvester Stallone run up the stairs to punch the air in triumph.

'He's there,' the ghost agreed excitedly.

'This is going to be interesting,' Taylor muttered, rubbing at her temples. She sighed and pulled out her laptop. At some point, Adam, feeling guilty, had gone and bought her a new one, spent a week making sure that the firewall was foolproof, and left it for her. And the thing was damn fast. She could have Skype, AIM and MSN Messenger running; lord knows how many explorer windows; sync her phone; play the Sims; and still have Word open quickly. She was certain he'd tweaked it to be better than how it had come out of the store, and she wasn't complaining.

It also had the added advantage of being hooked up to the precinct so that Flack could work from home, or as the actual theory had been, to allow him to work from the hospital using their WiFi.

As it was, she was only after it for the simple joy that was Google. Quickly typing in "death", "Philadelphia", "girl", and "steps", she quickly discovered that a lot of girls had been pushed down steps to meet their death.

'Let me,' Flack said, taking the laptop off her and connecting to the precinct. 'There's been nothing matching that since the turn of the century.'

Taylor eyed the ghost. 'Try the nineties,' she suggested. There was something about what the ghost was wearing, how her hair was styled, that led her to believe that she had probably been dead over ten years.

''98 a girl is found dead beneath the _Rocky _statue. March 14th. Charlotte Clearwater. Twenty four, five ten, 165lbs, brown hair, brown eyes.'

'Sounds like you,' Taylor told the ghost.

'I do not weigh 165lbs,' she objected.

'How did she die?' Taylor asked.

'Stabbed in the back,' Flack read. 'Bled out.'

Worried, the ghost slowly turned around. Sure enough, there was a knife protruding from her back.

'What else?' Taylor asked.

Flack shrugged. 'That's it.'

'Well, who killed me?' Charlotte asked, slightly peeved.

'Who killed her?' Taylor relayed the question.

'It doesn't say,' Flack told them. 'It's classed as still open. All we have is a reference for the file location. In Philadelphia,' he added.

Taylor sighed. 'I guess we're going to Pennsylvania then.'

From the arm of the chair where he was perched next to her, Flack's head swiveled around in a slow, almost inhuman motion. 'I beg your pardon? You're willing to fly to help a ghost?'

'Oh no,' Taylor corrected him. 'I am willing to make a two hour drive.'

'You realize that they're not going to let me take that SUV out of the state, don't you?' Flack asked her.

Taylor looked at her watch. 'Chris has an eight o'clock curfew.'

'Chris isn't going to make it to Philly and back before eight,' Flack told her. 'And the last I checked, he didn't have a car.'

'No,' Taylor agreed. 'However, Chris has been offering to help me buy a car for weeks. And we can get to a dealer and back before his curfew.'

'Taylor,' Flack sighed. 'I'm not stopping you from getting a car, but you're probably not going to be able to walk away with a car that quickly.'

'Hi!' Charlotte interrupted them. 'You know, you could always hop on a plane!'

'Driving would be better for the environment,' Taylor told her, pulling her phone out of her pocket and quickly texting her brother.

'What do I care about the environment – I'm dead.'

Taylor shot her a scathing look as her phone beeped at her. '"K",' she read. 'Is that it?'

'Who are you texting?' Flack asked her, leaning over her shoulder.

'Chris. He's going to help me buy a car. Although it would appear he can only manage one letter answers.'

'You're wasting time,' Charlotte told her.

'Tay, you might have to fly out there,' Flack sighed.

---

Several hours later, the pair of them were returning to the house. It had taken them an hour for Taylor to find the car she wanted – checked over and okayed by Chris, and given Flack's seal of approval.

'You have just wasted a whole evening,' Charlotte was grumbling.

'Have you remembered who you love?' Taylor shot at her.

'No,' she muttered.

'Well we've hardly wasted anything.'

'It's a good thing I know you're not crazy,' Flack muttered under his breath as he followed her into the house.

'The car purrs, Don,' Taylor told him.

'I was talking about you talking to yourself,' he told her as he toed his shoes off. 'And I'm going to go book us some flights.'

Taylor froze. 'The car will be ready at the end of next week,' she cried.

'Yes, and next week I won't be suspended anymore and therefore won't be able to go to Philadelphia with you. And we're going to have a weekend away from here.' He turned and headed up the stairs.

Taylor turned to Charlotte. 'You hear that? We're going to Philadelphia. So you'd better start remembering something because I'm not about to waste the whole weekend listening to you tell me you know a song that will get on my nerves.'

---

The flight to Philadelphia hadn't been as bad as Taylor had been expecting. The reason being that she was still fuming over a "disagreement" she had had with Nancy just before hand. Her editor had told her in no uncertain terms that she wasn't allowed to leave work early for an unapproved vacation. When Taylor had informed her that it had never been a problem in the past, that she was capable of working away from the office, and that she would only be gone for the weekend anyway, Nancy had relented, allowing it 'this once', and Taylor was to spend the weekend drawing up a list of holiday dates for the year to get them approved so that the same thing didn't happen again. The pissed off feeling lasted long enough to keep Taylor occupied for little over an hour whilst the plane was in the air.

'So is this looking familiar to you?' she asked Charlotte who had sat herself between the two of them in the back of the taxi.

'I've not been to Philadelphia before.'

'Yeah, it feels familiar too,' Charlotte told her.

Taylor gave Flack a pointed look after the taxi driver gave her a funny look in the rearview mirror.

'Although this looks familiar?' he offered.

Taylor gave him a bright smile. 'Let's dump the bags and head straight to the precinct.'

They quickly checked into the Latham Hotel in the center of the city, leaving their bags unpacked on the beds, only stopping long enough to quickly freshen up, before they were back outside hailing another cab.

They were actually within walking distance of "The Roundhouse." The headquarters of the Philadelphia Police Department, aptly named for its appearance. They walked up the steps and into the reception area, where Flack flashed his badge and asked to speak with someone who dealt with cold cases. The receptionist called a uniformed officer over and asked him to escort them to the fourth floor to see a Detective Rush.

Detective Rush was a slim woman, grey eyes, and blonde hair clipped back from her face. She was leaning back in her chair laughing with some of the other detectives in the room, although the main focus of her attention was the man perched on the corner of her desk.

'Detective Rush? This couple has some information about one of your cold cases,' the officer announced before quickly disappeared.

Taylor was giving her a small finger wave when the guy on the desk turned around. 'Detective Valens?'

'Taylor Turner?' he walked over and offered his hand. 'What brings you to my neck of the woods?' he asked her as they shook hands.

'You know each other?' Flack asked at the same time as one of the other men in the room.

'Yeah, this is the detective who was investigating that case which involved Stella. At the same time as Mac's hearing. That seems like forever ago,' she added.

'Detective Valens,' the Hispanic man introduced himself to Flack.

'He's cute!' Charlotte exclaimed.

'Detective Flack. NYPD.'

'This is Rush, Vera, Jeffries and Miller,' he said nodding at the various detectives in the room. What have you been up to?' he asked Taylor.

'Um, sleeping,' she told him.

He laughed. 'You been in a coma, or something.'

'Yeah, actually,' she said, rubbing the back of her head uncomfortably. 'Not long after you left, really.'

'Oh,' he looked as uncomfortable as she did.

'Yeah, can we speed things up?' Charlotte asked them. 'Time is money, and all that jazz.'

Taylor shut her eyes and exhaled, counting to ten to hide her annoyance. 'We might have some information.'

'We need to look at a cold case,' Flack added.

'Which one?' Valens asked.

'Girl stabbed under the Rocky Statue in '98,' said Flack.

'I remember that one,' the detective introduced as Vera spoke up. 'She was a pretty looking girl… Charlotte something.'

'He remembers me!' Charlotte cried cheerfully. 'And he thinks I'm cute!'

Taylor coughed. 'Yeah.'

'So what's the information?' Rush asked her.

Taylor turned her head, pretending to scratch at it, as she gave Charlotte a pointed look. Charlotte just shrugged at her. Taylor gave a nervous laugh and turned back to Lily. 'I don't know just yet.'

'You don't know?' Lily repeated quietly.

'Blue!' Charlotte blurted out.

Taylor shut her eyes and scratched her head. 'Well, I do. It just doesn't make much sense to me.'

'Well maybe it would make more sense to us?' Lily suggested.

'Blue?' Taylor offered, feeling slightly stupid.

'You mean the club she worked at?' Vera asked her.

'Yeah?' Taylor shrugged.

* * *

**I know I don't tell y'all nearly as much as I know I really should... But thank you! The fact that all of you continue to read means so much to me. Seriously guys - THANK YOU!**


	212. Ghosts to see, cases to solve

_Aphina - I've wanted to do a cross over with CC for a while, and this story arc seemed like the perfect opportunity. I just wonder now if I made the right choice!_

_Bmangaka - I can honestly say I'm jealous - where did you go? LOL, I don't think even Danny could pull of a vest that color!_

_Madison Bellows - If I had my way, I'd be back out there tomorrow. Alas, I think the earliest point is going to be May next year when my BFF gets married! But life is good (I love my temp job!) How about with you?_

_Carrie Michelle - I'm not sure at the moment, although knowing me, the guys will be back in some way. My soft spot is actually for Vera!_

_ambercsiny - lol, I'm glad you liked. Have you sent me something recently that I've missed or have you been busy?_

_Brown-Eyed Girl 75 - Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying, and I hope everything went alright with the ENT, and that "things" have calmed down somewhat with you!_

_demolished-soul - I will second you on that!_

_RK9 - Yeah, he's from Cold Case, but he also appeared in CSI:NY - he was the detective who came to investigate Stella when her blood turned up in a cold case._

_Trizzy - I'm behind on this series too - I think I'm nearly at the end of S3. I'm glad you don't like her editor! I don't either! Maybe we should start a petition, because, when you watch shows like Supernatural and Smallville, it's OBVIOUS that the writers read FF (what with the amount of refering to it!)_

_sparkyCSI - It's taken me long enough to get the resolution to you. I don't know why it was so hard to write. Or maybe I do - maybe it was a little "too close to home"!_

_meadow567 - Sorry to keep you waiting (and the next chapter is far from short - that I promise!!)_

_Vanessa.J - I'm glad you liked, and I'm also glad you posted. I'm always willing to bounce ideas around if you like!_

_joy1791 - I think you hit the nail on the head with that one. It's about Langston, isn't it! Jeeze, let Greg have some more airtime. Even Catherine has taken a back seat._

_Nienna Tinehtele - It does suck, but it makes it much more fun for me! lol._

_Well, thanks of course, go to my beta - sparkyCSI!_

**

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**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 211: Ghosts to see, cases to solve**

Taylor, Flack and Charlotte followed Valens, Rush and Vera into the basement of the precinct to be led through shelves and shelves of nothing but boxes as far as the eye could see.

'What are all of these?' Taylor asked, staring up at the boxes. They were stacked two high per shelf and went all the way to the ceiling.

'Unsolved cases,' Valens shrugged.

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'All of these boxes are people whose murders haven't been solved?'

'Yeah,' Lily agreed.

'But there's so many!' Taylor exclaimed.

'They go back to the turn of the nineteenth century,' Scotty explained in an attempt to make her feel a little better. 'There are some where there's just no evidence,' he said as he pulled one of the boxes of the shelves.

'Most of them will never be solved,' Lily told her. 'Some are just waiting for a new scientific breakthrough. Others need a just need a break in the case. And when that happens, we're here.'

Flack, who was standing behind Taylor sighed and put his hands on her shoulders. 'You should see them in New York,' he muttered into her ear.

She wasn't sure if he was trying to make her feel better or just state a fact. But it solidified one thought. 'Well let's make this one less unsolved murder,' she said, determinedly.

'You mean it?' Charlotte asked her.

'Well let's get this upstairs and refresh ourselves on the case,' Vera declared, taking the box out of Scotty's hands and heading back for the stairs. He led them back to the office they had been in previously and started pulling out various statements and evidence from the box. Wordlessly, Taylor took the main case file and headed for the large windows where she paced back and forth, seemingly muttering to herself.

'Is she always like that?' Lily asked Flack.

Flack gave a small nod. 'She's got her mind set on this one,' he told her.

'She's not going to walk off with that, is she?' Vera asked, watching her pace.

Flack shook his head. 'No. She's not going anywhere. Don't worry.'

'You say you're both homicide?' Vera asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he continued to watch Taylor.

Valens cleared his throat. 'If she's got the case file, do you want to fill us in on what you remember about the case?'

Flack kept his face neutral as Vera looked between the two of them, but inside he was frowning – what exactly did Valens know?'

---

Taylor squinted as she read the documents, wishing that she hadn't left her glasses in the hotel room with the rest of her carry-on luggage. 'It says here that you're from New York originally.'

Charlotte shrugged. 'I guess that explains why I ended up there to find you.'

'And you got a job at a club called Blue whilst you were studying. Not that it matters, but is it a strip club?'

Charlotte shrugged. 'I can't remember. I just remember lots of little green lights. And sliding buttons.'

Taylor frowned. 'Okay, it looks like that was your night job, and your day job was working in a library. A librarian by day and a stripper by night. Interesting.'

'I don't remember that,' Charlotte shrugged. 'But as I don't remember anything to the contrary, I guess that's possibly true.' She glanced down at the clothes she was wearing. 'But I don't look like I'm a stripper.'

Taylor shrugged. 'I figure most strippers would change before walking home. Otherwise it would get a little chilly.'

'That's a fair point,' Charlotte conceded as Taylor returned her nose to the folder.

'They questioned someone called Rich Clarke. The owner of the club, but he had an alibi... he was waiting with the staff for a taxi.' She glanced up at the ghost, who had changed. She looked the same, yet, she looked different. Almost... more alive, if that was possible.

'I know that name,' Charlotte said. 'And it's important to me.'

'They also questioned his wife. But they cleared her too. Although it doesn't say why.'

Charlotte frowned. 'I don't remember, Taylor. I just know that Rich was important.'

'It looks like you still had your ID in your pocket, and a couple of dollars in change.'

Charlotte looked blankly at her. 'Is that important?'

'I don't know,' Taylor muttered, thoughtfully. 'There's no sign of sexual assault, so that wasn't the motive, and unless you're missing a purse, it doesn't look like robbery was a motive either. There were no real suspects, and yet a knife in the back feels personal.' She glanced up at the ghost. 'Who did you piss off?'

Charlotte hiked her arms onto her hips. 'Don't you think I'd tell you if I knew that? I don't remember anything.'

'You alright?' Flack asked her as he joined her side.

'Just discussing the case,' Taylor told him.

'So were we,' Vera told her as he, Valens and Lily also joined them. 'Only we do it with other people.'

'Yeah,' Taylor blushed. 'I just work better when I talk to myself, and it's easier to do that when you're not with another living soul.'

Lily gave her a searching look. 'We're going to go back to Blue.'

'But we're going to get something to eat first,' Flack added, misreading Taylor's expression.

----

Taylor could hear the music pouring out of the club before they had walked around the corner. And for some reason palms were sweaty and her pulse was racing.

'This is it,' Charlotte said, jumping up and down excitedly. 'I know this place!'

'Welcome to Blue,' Vera muttered, stepping in front of them, and leading the way past the queue to the bouncers at the door. 'We're here to see the manager,' he said, flashing his badge.

The bouncer eyed the IDs and nodded. He tipped his head, pushed a button on the mic on his jacket collar and spoke quietly. His hand went to his ear as he listened to the response and nodded. He turned back to the detectives. 'He won't be a minute,' he informed them before turning his attention back to the line in front of him.

'You alright?' Flack muttered to Taylor as they waited.

Taylor gave him a small nod. 'Just cold.'

'This DJ is awful,' Charlotte was telling her. 'I bet I could do a better job than this.'

'Detectives?' A man emerged from the club, dressed in a navy blue suit and a smile on his face. 'Can I help you?'

'We're after the Club Manager,' Vera told him.

'That's me. Nile Jones,' he introduced himself.

'We're actually after Richard Clarke,' Lily told him.

Nile shook his head. 'I'm the Bar Manager and licensee this evening. Rich still owns the club but he hasn't stepped foot in here for... years. Not since his divorce went through, at least.' He frowned. 'That must be a good ten years ago now.'

'Do you have an address for him?' Valens asked, pulling out his notebook.

'He's living by the river,' Nile told him as he reeled off an address. 'You know, you guys are welcome to come in, if you want. Free of charge, of course.'

Lily glanced at her watch. 'It is getting late. You guys want to call it a night and continue tomorrow morning?'

'You guys go ahead. I'm gonna go get some beauty sleep,' Vera told them.

'We'll wake you up in a decade then,' Valens quipped, earning himself a clip around the side of the head before Vera walked off.

'Come on!' Charlotte exclaimed excitedly, walking through several people and into the club.

Flack looked down at Taylor who simply shrugged at him. He turned to the Philadelphia detectives and brushed his arm out, indicating to go ahead, and followed them into the club.

'This place has changed,' Charlotte declared as she reappeared behind Taylor.

Taylor looked around the place. It was filling up nicely, but currently was just full enough that one could look around the place and see more than a mass of bodies. The place had a feeling of being underwater. All the wall and floor lights gave off a blue hue, short of the lights and lasers on the dance floor. It looked like the walls were blue too, highlighted with silver. There were two long bars on either side of the room closest to the entrance, and each were made of glass, the bubbles being pumped in them reflecting across the room.

The male staff, bar the bouncers, were all wearing tight blue t-shirts and jeans, whilst the female staff were all parading around in blue bikinis.

'If I'd have known this place was like this, I'd have been in here more often,' Scotty announced as a waitress in a bikini and skirt walked past with a tray of drinks.

'No, it wasn't like this,' Charlotte said sadly. 'The bars used to be full of fish. And I never wore a bikini.' She cocked her head and stared at the DJ. 'And you know what? I definitely _could_ do a better job than the DJ.'

'You want something to drink?' Valens shouted at her over the music.

Taylor barely heard him as the restricted feeling returned. For some reason, trying to get air was proving difficult.

'Excuse me,' someone yelled at her as they bumped into her shoulder.

For a minute, Taylor was unable to move. And then her brain and feet connected and she hurried out of the club and into the cold night air, past the line, and to a quiet spot just up the road where she leant against the wall, clutching at her side as she tried to quell the churning in her stomach.

'Taylor?' Flack was there, crouching down in front of her, blue eyes dark with concern.

'I can't be in there,' she gasped at him.

'Hey,' Flack muttered gently, pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around the shivering woman, pulling her to him. 'You don't have to be.'

'I'm sorry,' she mumbled into his shoulder.

'You don't have to apologize,' he told her firmly. 'Come on. Let's get you back to the hotel.'

---

'I don't know what happened,' Taylor whispered. She was wrapped in one of the hotel's complimentary bath robes, nursing a cup of coffee Flack had made for her (only because she wanted something warm to hold and somewhere along the lines, had found the smell of coffee to be reassuring), curled up in a chair, staring out of the window.

'You freaked out, Taylor,' Flack told her. He was sat on the bed, legs stretched out in front of him, watching Taylor.

'Yeah, but I don't know why,' she sighed.

'The last memory of a club that you have, is being taken from one,' he shrugged. 'I'm not surprised.'

'I'm sorry,' Taylor apologized as a tear streaked down her cheek.

'Hey!' Flack scrambled off the bed and over to her side. 'What are you apologizing for?'

'For being so weak,' Taylor confessed.

Flack plucked the coffee mug out of her hands and set it on the floor. 'Taylor, you went through one hell of an ordeal, and frankly I was beginning to worry that you were coping a little too well,' he told her as he grasped her hands in his and played with her engagement ring.

'But I let you down.'

'Tay, you did nothing of the sort. I saw what they put you through, and you were so brave.'

Taylor stared at him in bewilderment. 'How did you see?'

'There was a web link into the room you were being held in,' Flack admitted.

Taylor softly shook her head. 'I don't remember much of it.'

'Maybe that's a good thing,' Flack pointed out.

'I don't know,' Taylor told him. 'Maybe it's not.'

Flack gave her a smile, his left hand rising to gently stroke her cheek. 'I love you, Taylor.'

'I love you too,' she told him, returning the smile.

'You know, we haven't really talked about this,' Flack said, picking up her left hand and showing the ring to which he was referring. 'We still need to set a date.'

Taylor sighed, pulling her hand free to stare at her ring. 'Can't we just stay engaged for a while?' She looked up to see Flack frowning at her. 'I want to get married to you, I do. It's just,' she sighed. 'I don't know who I am at the minute. I don't even know if I'm the same person I was anymore. And I just want to make sure that you love the new person I've become.'

Flack gave her a sad smile. 'Taylor, my love for you is unconditional. And it's going to stay that way. I promise you that. But if you're not ready, we can wait. I didn't want to put any pressure on you. I just thought talking about our wedding might take your mind off things. But I can think of other things to keep you occupied,' he told her with a cheeky grin.

He rose on his knees and pressed his lips against hers, his tongue teasing at her lips until she allowed him entry. But as his hands made their way to the tie on her robe, she tensed up, jerking back and slipping past him to her feet.

'Taylor?'

'I… Sorry,' she mumbled. I just can't do this with a ghost in the room,' she mumbled, slipping into bed and pulling the covers up over her.

Still in his position on the floor, Flack watched her movements carefully, wondering, if she was going to be alright, and if the ghosts were ever going to leave them alone.

* * *

_Sorry to keep y'all waiting on a chapter! That darn thing called real life got in the way. That and the fact that this and the next chapter (in particular) have been sooooo hard to write - you'll understand when you read 213 (213? Have I really written that many chapters??) Well, thank you all, for continuing to read, review, add this fic as your fav/on alert - y'all keep me going!!_


	213. Though you're still with me, I've been

_Bmangaka - Danny in blue would definately work! Alternatively, so would Danny in nothing. I've never been there (it's on my ever growing list of places to visit - i just wish the bank balance matched the list) I hope you enjoyed yourself_

_Vanessa.J - lol, did I convert you to a cold case fan, or is it going to grow on you?_

_Trizzy - lol, you're good. I'm going to have to be uber clever with clues in the future! And I'm all about Cass and Dean at the mo in SN. Can anyone say yummy? Yeah, they may deny it, but I think that the CSI writers have a look at what's being written. I'm sorry, but they're lying if they've never checked it out._

_joy1791 - Sorry to keep you waiting! I promise I will have some proper Flack/Tay lovin soon!_

_Lady Phoenix Snape - Hey, thanks! I do know what you mean and I am definately going to work on it! I think part of it is that time passes so slowly - it's gonna be ages before they ever make it down the isle, so I definately wont be rushing anything (and I do find that it tests my patience sometimes)_

_ambercsiny - thank you - the teasing was fun. How's those exams going?_

_sparkyCSI - I decided to go with it. Because otherwise, this chapter would never get posted, the muses would never have come back, and the story would have gone a year long hiatus. So let;s see how it goes...! Thanks for your help with it!_

_demolished-soul - the muses are now wanting some happy fluffy time (good in my mind!) so hopefully I can have things going right soon!_

_meadow567 - man, I should actually feel proud of that accomplishment! So I shall! Yay me! lol_

_Well, bigger thanks than normal to my beta, sparkyCSI. As you'll probably gather from the amount of mentioning, I've had some real issues with this chapter, and she's not only beta'd my longest ever chapter (16 pages - check me out!) She's helped me get my head on straight with it - so thanks Kris!_

* * *

**Axellia's note**: _Forgive me, y'all. I don't think this is going to be one of my most exciting chapters – and I can assure you that I certainly had other plans for it – however, (as this chapter may well hint), I have had quite a few things going on in my life, and unfortunately, this _had_ to be written in one of those weird therapy moves, before the muses would allow me to continue. And that is the main reason as to why it's so long – I didn't want to drag it all out and lose you all, but I really needed to write it!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 212: Though you're still with me, I've been alone all along**

'Did you have a good night last night?' Charlotte asked, appearing as Taylor and Flack were walking back to the precinct.

'Yeah,' Taylor muttered.

'Huh?' Flack asked, turning. Seeing nothing he sighed. 'Does that ghost ever leave you alone?'

Charlotte frowned. 'What's that supposed to mean? I stayed in the club long after you left.'

'It doesn't matter,' Taylor said, in a response to both as Flack pulled open the door to the precinct for her.

'Whatever,' Charlotte shrugged. 'Look, I was thinking. I felt at home in Blue. I think we should talk to someone who knew me.'

'Morning,' Vera greeted them cheerfully, Scotty and Lily close behind him, the latter nursing a steaming cup of coffee each and looking a little worse for wear.

'You two alright?' Flack asked addressing the two mournful looking detectives.

'These two didn't know when to quit,' Vera grinned.

'You two left early,' Scotty commented.

'It had been a long day, what with flying and everything,' Flack shrugged.

Taylor flashed him a grateful smile. 'I think we should go see this club owner.'

'On what grounds?' Lily asked her.

Taylor shrugged. 'Gut feeling?'

'Last night, after you left, Nile came back and mentioned that he remembered hearing something about an argument the previous bar manager had had with an old DJ, but couldn't remember the details,' Lily informed them.

'I don't remember that coming out in the initial interviews,' Vera frowned.

'Alright,' Scotty shrugged. 'I'll go with Taylor and Flack to see this club manager. You two can take the bar manager?'

Lily nodded and the two Philadelphian detectives disappeared. Valens turned to the couple. 'Alright. What's the deal?'

'What do you mean?' Flack asked him.

Valens rolled his eyes. 'You can cut the crap now. Just because our cases are stuck in the past, doesn't mean we are.'

Taylor took a breath. 'What would you say if I told you I could see ghosts?'

Valens shrugged. 'Wouldn't be the strangest thing I'd heard. We should get moving. We're going to be stuck in the rush hour traffic as it is.'

Taylor stared at him in disbelief. 'Seriously?'

Valens nodded. 'I've been to New York. Rush hour is just as bad here as it is there.'

'No,' said Taylor, shaking her head. 'I'm talking about the ghosts.'

'And?'

Taylor frowned. 'I guess I'm not used to people accepting it as easily as that.'

'So why are you complaining?' Charlotte asked her. 'Quit questioning it, and let's go see Rich.'

---

Rich lived in a big house in suburbs on the other side of the city. He was tall. Easily as tall as Flack, and heading into his forties. His black hair was both receding, and already was showing signs of grey at the sides. He was outside using the good, early spring weather to wash his car.

'Mr Clarke?'

Rich looked over at the detectives, pausing in scrubbing the alloys of his car, and nodded. 'Can I help you?'

'It's him,' Charlotte breathed.

Taylor turned sharply, expecting to see fear lining the ghost's features. But instead, Charlotte was almost glowing. And she had a grin stretching from one ear to the other.

'We're here about the Charlotte Clearwater Murder.'

Rich's face fell at the same speed as the sponge in his hand as he dropped it on the ground. 'You finally found out who killed her?' he asked quietly.

'We've had some new leads, and we're re-opening the case.'

Rich sighed and stood upright. 'We'd best go inside then.' He led them into his living room and allowed them to sit.

'So Charlotte worked at the club with you?' Valens started.

Rich nodded. 'She was the DJ. Pretty good, as well. She knew how to read what the crowd wanted.'

'Where were you when she was murdered?' Flack asked him.

Rich looked away. 'I was waiting with the bar staff for their taxis.' He turned back to them. 'We put taxis on for the staff. Didn't want them walking home alone if they haven't got their own transport.'

'And why didn't Charlotte take a taxi too?'

Rich sighed. 'She drove. I don't know why she was there.'

Taylor glanced over at Charlotte who shrugged. 'Like hell I remember. I remember him though.'

'Is there anyone you can think of that might want to kill her?' Flack asked him.

'No,' Rich sighed. 'She was a good girl. Made a few stupid decisions in her life, but she got on well with everyone.'

'Stupid decisions?'

Rich nodded. 'Mainly things to do with money. Career choices. That kind of thing.'

'Nothing illegal?' asked Valens.

Rich shook his head. 'Oh, far from it. She was impulsive – the kind to act first, then spend time fretting about the consequences. She had a job she was miserable in, and she quit. Didn't think about where her next pay check was coming from, or how she was going to pay the next rent bill. I let her have a few bar shifts when I could.'

'You know what the trouble was at her old job?' Valens asked.

Rich shook his head. 'Irritating customers, no support from management, irregular hours,' he shrugged. 'She hated it.'

Taylor, who had been watching Charlotte stare at the guy, turned to face him. 'You seem to know a lot for a bar manager.'

Rich sighed and relaxed back into his chair. 'We got on well. She used to bug me. Talk at me. I started talking back. Tried to offer her advice when I could.'

'How close were you two?' she asked him.

Rich shut his eyes and sniffed. 'Close enough.'

Valens' eyes narrowed. 'That's not what your original statement says.'

Rich nodded. 'We were... I was having an affair. My wife was pregnant and I didn't want her to find out. Of course I was going to hide it.'

'You lied in an investigation?' Flack snapped.

'I lied to protect my reputation, Cara's reputation, and Charlotte's reputation,' Rich snapped back. 'I couldn't see how that was going to hurt anyone.'

'No, but we may have just found a motive,' Valens told him. 'Where's your wife?'

Rich laughed dryly. 'Cara? You couldn't possibly think that Cara killed Charlotte? She didn't know about Charlotte.'

Valens shrugged. 'Women have a way of knowing about those things, Mr. Clarke. Where is she?'

'I don't know,' Rich sighed. 'We got a divorce a few years after Charlotte died. Things just didn't work out.'

'Do you know where she works?' Flack asked him.

Rich frowned at them. 'I'm surprised you don't know this already. She's a detective with Vice over in Fairmount.'

---

'Well that would explain why they overlooked Cara's statements,' Taylor muttered.

'I'm sure there's a better reason than that,' Scotty sighed.

Flack shrugged. 'There was a lot of pressure back then. I wouldn't be surprised if it was the case.'

'Let's not jump to any conclusions until we talk to Nick. He and Lily may have found something out,' Scotty sighed as they headed back to the car. 'And I really hope they do, because I'm not sure what else we can get from this.'

---

'Nothing,' Lily grumbled as she dropped into her chair. 'The DJ he was talking about was Charlotte's replacement, and the argument was that the guy wasn't playing the right kind of music.'

'At least I know I wasn't easy to replace,' Charlotte muttered.

'So where does that leave us?' Vera asked.

Lily shrugged. 'I'm not sure it does.'

'The ex-wife!' Taylor exclaimed. 'What about her?'

Scotty turned to Nick. 'You worked the original case. Why wasn't Cara Clarke interviewed?'

'Solid alibi,' Vera shrugged. 'She was on patrol. She wasn't in Vice back then.'

'Cara?' Lily asked, cocking her head. 'You mean Cara Wright?'

Valens nodded. 'The vic was having an affair with her husband. Hence why she's now a Wright.'

'Fifty one, fifty,' Charlotte suddenly said, causing Taylor to give her a sharp look.

Taylor cleared her throat, rubbing at the back of her neck. 'If I ask you a very random question, will you humor with the answer?'

Three of the four gave her a puzzled look, but all nodded.

'Do the numbers fifty one, fifty mean anything to you?' she asked.

Vera shrugged. '$51.50 is the fine for the first offence of failing to signal,' he offered.

'Code for a mentally disturbed person,' Valens shrugged.

'Or an album by Van Halen,' Lily added. 'Why?'

At Charlotte's blank expression, Taylor sighed and shook her head. 'Just a thought.'

'Look, let's get Wright over for a chat, see where her head was at, at the time of the murder,' Valens said, reaching for the phone.

'We may as well go get something to eat,' Flack told Taylor.

---

By the time they returned, after making a point of questioning Charlotte, but gaining no new information, Cara Wright was waiting for them.

'So, what's this all about,' she asked, pushing her short blond bob behind her ears. 'The only thing Vera mentioned was that it was about an old case.'

'1998,' Vera nodded. 'The Charlotte Clearwater murder.'

Something flickered through Cara's eyes, but her face remained impassive. 'The girl found stabbed in the back beneath Rocky's feet?'

Lily nodded.

'But,' Cara frowned. 'I thought that had gone cold.'

'We're following new leads,' Vera shrugged. 'Reopening it.'

'And what would they be?' Cara asked, her words belying the overly curious tone they were spoken in.

'You want a coffee?' Valens asked as they walked over to the small kitchen. He poured a coffee out of the machine and offered it to Cara who promptly took it.

As she reached over, her jacket lifted and something glinted in under the bright halogen bulbs. Taylor frowned, peering at the gold object – the detective's badge. She cleared her throat looking at Valens. 'Can I borrow you, a moment?'

Valens gave her a puzzled look, but nodded and followed her to one side.

'Alright, I realize that what I am about to ask of you is completely insane, but I need to make sure of something,' she shook her head at her own crypticness. 'When I said I saw ghosts, did you really believe me, or were you just humoring me?'

'What's the matter?' This question came from Lily who had walked over.

Taylor sighed. 'I can see ghosts,' she admitted, too tired to try lie.

Lily blinked. 'Scotty, will you excuse us?'

Taylor winced as Valens left them. Bracing herself for the onslaught she was expecting, she quietly followed Lily into a small, empty room. As soon as the door shut behind them, Taylor held her hands up. 'Look, please don't be mad. But it's why I'm here. I'm being haunted by Charlotte's ghost. I really do see them-'

'I see them too,' Lily admitted quietly.

'They've been around for years, trying to…' Taylor trailed off. 'What?'

'I see them too,' she repeated, just as quietly. 'They don't haunt me as such, but they're there, when I lay a case to rest… when their murder is solved.'

Taylor blinked. 'What?' she repeated, her brain trying to process the information.

Lily leant back against the door, arms folded as she looked at Taylor thoughtfully. 'Well, I think I see them, anyway. I suppose I could be imagining it, but I hope not. I like to think that I bring them peace.'

'Really?' Taylor asked her again.

Lily nodded. 'Really.'

'Wow,' Taylor breathed out, a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. 'How long?'

Lily shook her head. 'I guess they started appearing when I transferred to the Cold Case Unit. Five years ago.'

'They don't bug you?'

Again, Lily shook her head. 'Really, they don't say anything. They do you?'

Taylor let out a dry laugh. 'Well, up until recently, they say the same thing over again. Now I can't get them to shut up.'

Lily cocked her head. 'What changed?'

Taylor shrugged. 'I died?'

Lily nodded thoughtfully. 'That makes sense.'

'It does?'

'Yeah,' Lily smiled. 'If you're dead, you're going to see the dead.'

'But I'm not dead now,' Taylor muttered, although her fingers, which had been wringing her hands, had slipped to her wrists to check her pulse – just to make sure.

'No, but you were. And if you could see some dead already, well maybe it's allowed you to see all the dead.'

Taylor studied the petite woman. 'Is there any chance you could transfer to New York?'

Lily laughed. 'No, I'm happy here. There's too much work here as it is.'

Taylor sighed. 'Well, if you change your mind, don't hesitate to transfer. It would be nice to have someone who actually knows what's going on.'

'Taylor, I don't have a clue what's going on,' Lily laughed. 'I'm just guessing.'

Taylor's hands flew to her hips. 'Well, guess work or not, you seem to have a better idea about what's going on that the people who _should_ do.'

Lily gave her a soft smile. 'So, what did you want to talk to Scotty about? I take it involves the ghost of yours?'

'Can he see them?' Taylor asked, curiously.

Lily shook her head. 'We've never discussed it.'

Taylor sighed. 'Charlotte, she remembered something. 5150.'

Lily nodded. 'That makes more sense now. The question, I mean.'

'Lily, Cara's badge number is 5150.'

Lily's forehead creased in concentration. 'Effectively, that is completely useless. It would never stand up in court.'

'But you believe me?'

Lily nodded. 'Of course. The problem is translating that into useable evidence.' The frown deepened. 'If she was there, it means her alibi is useless.'

'What was her alibi?'

Lily shrugged. 'Let's find out.' She walked determinedly back to the others, leaving a bewildered Taylor staring after her. _Another person who could see ghosts?_ Quickly shaking her head, she hurried after her.

'…I was with a CI,' Cara was saying. 'Like I said in my original statement.'

'We just need to be sure,' Lily said. 'Who was he?'

Cara arched an eyebrow. 'You know I can't tell you that.'

Lily just smiled at her, ignoring the looks Valens and Vera were giving her. 'You can't, or you don't want to?'

'Now what would you be implying?' Cara demanded, her eyes flashing furiously.

'That maybe you lied and stabbed me in the back!' Charlotte snapped.

Taylor looked at the ground and scowled. She could understand Charlotte's reaction, but it was slightly frustrating to be the only person to actually hear it.

'Got something to hide?' Lily continued.

'Lily?' Scotty frowned , pulling her back by her arm. 'What's gotten into you?' he asked under his breath, shooting a look at Taylor.

'Nothing,' she told him, before turning to Cara and smiling. 'I'm sorry.'

'Don't worry about it, 'Cara muttered. 'Are we done here?'

Vera nodded and Cara quickly escaped. 'What the hell is going on?' he demanded as soon as Cara had left the room.

'Nick, do you still have contacts with Narco?' Lily asked instead of answering his question.

Vera nodded. 'Why?'

'We need to find out who her informant was,' Lily told him.

'You know we shouldn't, right?' he asked her.

Lily nodded calmly.

With a sigh and muttering to himself, Vera nodded and headed over to his desk.

'I'll go see if I can track down the dispatch officer from that night,' Scotty muttered.

'I don't know how successful this is going to be,' Lily sighed. 'She may well have done it, but I think she's covered her tracks too well.'

Flack looked between Taylor and Lily and frowned. 'Did the Millennium Data Cleanse hit Philadelphia?' he asked.

Lily nodded slowly, frowning. 'Yeah, but I'm not sure how that's going to help.'

Flack grinned. 'Then the information is locked away on a hard drive somewhere, right.'

Again, Lily nodded. 'Yes, but I don't know where, much less have access to it.'

'No, but I happen to know a guy who's _very_ good with computers.'

Taylor gave him a sharp look. 'Who?'

'Ross.'

---

There was a very long pause down the phone line. '_You want me to what?_' Adam asked.

'Hack into the Philadelphia Police Department's main archives to find out which confidential informants Cara Clarke was handling in 1998,' Flack repeated himself.

'_Is this a set up_?' Adam asked suspiciously. _'Is Mac with you?_'

'Can you do it, Ross?'

'_Yeah, but-'_

'Then do it. If anything comes back, I'll take full responsibility,' Flack told him. 'And I'll owe you one.'

Taylor chewed at her lip, staring at her fiancé, slightly puzzled. Not so long ago, Flack would never have even considered this… it was more like something Danny _would_ have done. In actual fact, she wouldn't have questioned it – if she had the skills she would have done it in a heartbeat. But it was the look Detective Rush was giving him – one of awe and apprehension… like she wished she could do it, but didn't dare.

'_Fine_,' Adam sighed. '_Give me a couple of minutes._' He said, before hanging up.

Taylor waited until Lily had gone for coffee before turning to Flack. 'Don, is what he's doing going to get him in trouble?'

Flack shrugged. 'Adam's good. He knows what he's doing.'

'That's not what I asked,' Taylor pointed out.

'He'll be fine,' Flack insisted as Lily returned and handed him a cup.

Taylor let out an exasperated sigh. 'I'm going to talk to Charlotte. I'll be outside.'

The wind was causing Taylor's hair to whip furiously around her head as she sat on a bench opposite the precinct. The temperature had dropped suddenly and the March wind had a brisk chill to it. Taylor wrapped her jacket tightly around herself and shivered.

'You're not helping by being out here.'

'Charlotte,' Taylor sighed wearily. 'I can't do anything. Unless you happen to know who Cara's informant is?'

Charlotte sat down next to her and shook her head. 'I keep trying to remember something, but the only thing I can remember clearly is how I feel about Rich.' She turned on the wall, pulling a leg up under her. 'Do me a favor?'

'What?' Taylor asked her, carefully.

'Tell him you love him.'

Taylor blinked. 'Huh?'

'Your guy, Flack,' Charlotte gave her a sad smile. 'Make sure he knows just how much you love him. Because it could all be over tonight, and trust me: you don't want that feeling of uncertainty.'

Taylor was nodding softly when the man in question, accompanied by Lily and Scotty, joined her.

'You'll catch a chill,' he told her as he helped her to her feet.

'I was just talking with Charlotte.'

'Did she remember anything?' Lily asked her.

Taylor shook her head. 'Nothing that will help us.'

'Good job Adam came through,' Flack grinned.

Taylor gave him another searching stare before arching an eyebrow at him. 'And?'

'Low-level drug dealer by the name of Papi,' Scotty told her. 'Lives out in an apartment not too far from Blue.'

Taylor's eyes widened. 'That sounds promising,' she said, as Charlotte nodded her agreement.

---

It took a while to get across town to the informant's apartment. The four of them (plus Charlotte) climbed up eight flights of stairs to get to his door. Taylor hung back, under Flack's watchful eyes, as she clutched at her side, trying to catch her breath as she breathed through the pain that was sending spasms in waves across her stomach.

He walked over whilst Valens and Rush waited for an answer, and cupped her cheek. 'You alright?'

Taylor nodded. 'I keep forgetting.'

'I did the same thing,' he admitted. 'Next time, you're waiting in the car.'

Taylor sighed as the pain conceded, unsure of what to make of the comment. She was distracted by the door opening.

Papi was a short, fat, balding Latino, wearing a white wife beater and a pair of boxers. 'Can I help you?'

Scotty and Lily flashed their badges. 'Philadelphia homicide. We're here about a murder.'

Papi eyed the pair, glanced at Flack and Taylor and nodded. 'I've been expecting you,' he informed them as he held the door open to allow them to enter.

Taylor frowned, but followed the others into Papi's place. The living room was dark – thick drapes preventing the light from seeping in – but with candles lining the walls, sending flickering shadows over dozens of images of the Virgin Mary.

'You said you were expecting us?' Lily questioned him as Papi walked over to the fireplace.

He ignored her, kneeling down to light a small red candle in front of a shrine to the Mother of God that replace a fire. Crossing himself, he rose to his feet to face them, nodding. 'For the last ten years I have been waiting for you to knock.'

'Why?' Scotty asked.

'Because I lied to help a cop get away with murder.'

'So if you've been waiting for us for ten years, why didn't you just head over to the precinct?' Taylor blurted out.

Papi shuffled over to a large, worn armchair, the chintz print virtually faded away, and sat down heavily in it. 'My son, Jesús, was a member of the Eight Snakes. He was helping bringing drugs into the country. I was awoken one night by the police searching my home. They took Jesús away,' Papi sighed as he lowered his head into his hands. 'I told one of the officers who had remained to search the house that my son was a good man, just misled,' he sighed again as he brought his head from his hands. 'She told me that she might be able to help me.'

'She?' Lily asked.

'Detective Cara Wright,' Papi nodded.

'What happened?'

'She told me that she could get him off if I owed her a favor.'

Flack frowned. 'And what _was_ this favor?'

Papi shrugged. 'Originally I was to keep her informed of any activity that my son was involved in. But that was a farce. A few months later she came to me and told me that unless I wanted to see Jesús 'rotting to hell in Sing Sing', I was to agree, should it ever became necessary, to become her alibi,' Papi gazed at them all, his eyes apologetic. 'My son fell in with a bad crowd. Prison would kill him.'

Taylor bit her lip. She was pretty certain the guy wore rose tinted glasses when it came to his son, because everything he was telling them was that his son _was_ one of the bad guys.

'She told me when the planned raid was going to happen and I kept Jesús away.'

Scotty frowned. 'She just gave that information up?'

Papi nodded. 'I didn't realize at the time that I was helping to cover a murder until I saw the papers.'

'And the jackass still let her get away with it,' Charlotte grumbled furiously. 'Can't you arrest him now?'

'Why didn't you say anything then?' Taylor asked, ignoring the fuming ghost.

'I love my son,' Papi shrugged.

'So why say something now? Why not continue to keep the secret?' asked Lily, frowning slightly.

Papi slowly shook his head. 'My son is past my protection.'

A flash of recognition passed through Scotty's eyes. 'Jesús is the leader of the Eight Snakes.'

Papi nodded. 'Yes.' He paused. 'My time here is nearly up. I was a man trying to protect his son, and I hope the Lord will recognize that when my time comes. But I also need to atone for what I have done. I must set things right.'

'The guy's a nut job,' Charlotte mumbled as Lily cuffed the man and led him out. 'And if he was serious about setting things right, why in God's name did he wait for you guys to find _him_?'

Taylor gave her a small shrug. Personally, she thought Charlotte had a point.

---

Taylor, Flack and Scotty were in the observation room, watching Lily and Vera question Cara. As soon as Lily had told Cara what Papi had enlightened them with, Cara confessed to everything.

Flack glanced at his watch.

'What do you keep checking that for?' Taylor asked him.

'The Rangers game starts in a couple of hours,' Flack admitted.

Valens shot him a look. 'You're a Rangers fan?'

Flack returned the look. 'Oh, don't tell me: Flyers.'

'You're standing in Philly. What else would you expect?'

'I'd hope for some taste. But you're right. We are in Philly after all.'

Valens grinned. 'Fifty says my team beats your team's asses.'

'Oh, you are so on!' Flack exclaimed. He turned to Taylor. 'Unless you mind?'

Taylor shook her head, still staring at Charlotte. 'There's something I need to do first. Just tell me where you're watching it and I'll grab a cab.

Flack looked over his shoulder at the spot Taylor was staring at and nodded. 'Alright.'

---

Taylor paid the cab driver and stepped out of the car. 'Are you sure you want to do this?' she asked Charlotte as she stared up at the house in front of her.

Charlotte nodded. 'I think it's what's holding me back, keeping me here.'

Taylor nodded and walked up the drive to knock on the door. It was answered quite quickly.

'Detective Turner?' Rich greeted her wearily. He looked like he had been crying.

'Actually, I'm not a detective,' Taylor confessed.

Rich looked her up and down. 'Can I help you?'

Taylor gave him an awkward smile. 'I'm here about Charlotte.'

'You've arrested my ex-wife. What more do you need?'

Taylor exhaled slowly and stepped back. 'If Charlotte was here now, what would you say to her?'

Tears glistened at the corners of Rich's eyes. 'You have no right to ask that,' he said, as he started to close the door.

'Because I know what she'd say to you,' Taylor cried.

The door swung open and Rich barged out, making Taylor leap backwards to get out of his way. 'You don't know anything about me, or Charlotte!' he yelled at her. 'And you have no right to bring this up!'

'It started with a text,' Taylor cried, reciting back what Charlotte was telling her as she leapt backwards.

Rich froze. 'How did you know that,' he whispered hoarsely.

'Because she's here with me,' Taylor admitted.

Rich sank to the doorstep. 'She is?' he asked, looking around.

Taylor nodded, sitting herself down beside him. 'She's here for you. She wanted you to know how she really felt.'

'She,' his voice caught in his throat. 'She used to get my attention in the club, usually to get her a drink because she couldn't really leave the decks,' he smiled. 'She'd always start with _you know you love me_,' he said, at the same time as Charlotte.

Taylor looked over at the ghost as she sat down on the other side of Rich.

Rich sniffed. 'I'd always reply with, maybe.'

'And I'd always tell him that was the wrong answer,' Charlotte smiled, placing her hand on his thigh.

'Is she really here?' he asked, turning to Taylor.

Taylor nodded. 'She's sat right next to you.'

Rich turned to face her. 'I did. I _do_. Love you.'

'I know,' Charlotte said as tears welled up in her eyes. 'I knew before you did.'

'She knew,' Taylor told him.

Rich gave her a sad smile. 'I know she did. And if it wasn't for Cara getting pregnant, I think I would have left her.'

Charlotte nodded. 'It's why I pulled away as soon as I found out. He wouldn't be able to do it.'

'I'm sorry, Charlotte,' Rich managed, as the tears began to stream down his cheek and drop down onto his grey shirt to create dark stains on it.

'It's not your fault, and you can't blame yourself,' Charlotte told him through Taylor. 'It was never meant to be more than a bit of fun, and despite everything that happened, I would do it all over again.'

'I love you, Charlotte,' Rich sniffed. 'And I would do it all again as well.'

Charlotte stood up, leant over and kissed his cheek. 'I love you, Rich. And I'm never going to stop.' As she righted herself and took a step backwards, Rich raised his hand, touching the spot on his cheek that she had touched. 'Thank you, Taylor,' she said as she started to fade away. 'And Robin just needs to know where his family is.'

Taylor smiled, wiping away her own tears. 'Bye, Charlotte,' she whispered.

---

'Are you alright?' Flack asked as Taylor slid into the booth next to him.

Taylor nodded and glanced around the bar. It was a quiet place, with hardly any patrons in it. Valens was at the bar getting a round in, and Lily was playing Vera in a game of pool, but short of one or two other people, there was hardly anyone in. 'Where is everyone?'

Flack shrugged. 'Quiet night.'

Taylor eyed him suspiciously, certain that it had been the plan all along to go to a quiet bar. He stared back at her smiling. Taylor quickly returned the smile as she leant her head against his shoulder. 'Thank you,' she muttered.

'Has she gone?'

'Yeah,' Taylor inhaled softly and pulled away from him, staring intently into his puzzled blue eyes.

'What?'

Something had happened whilst she had been in the coma. Flack wasn't quite the same – she wasn't sure what had happened, or how exactly he was different, but it was enough that she was concerned. And yet, as she stared into his eyes, something Charlotte had said came back to her. Whatever _had_ happened, and whatever the consequences were, at that moment, it didn't matter. 'I love you,' she told him.

'I love you, too,' Flack returned, still a little perplexed.

'I mean it,' she told him. 'I really love you.'

The confusion lessened as Flack smiled at her. 'I mean it too.'

Taylor grinned. 'I know.'

* * *

_There you go - the hardest chapter I've ever had to write, so sorry for the wait. Thanks for reading, and putting up with me, and I hope I haven't lost too many of you because of it!_


	214. There trouble everywhere, it's all

_Petite Poppy - thank you! I spent so long worrying over it, that's such a relief to hear!_

_Madison Bellow - I have had a week from hell - and it's not even related to the chapter! I think I may drop you a line after! It had me in tears when I wrote it (:s)_

_Vanessa.J - I think I owe a few more moments, I'll be honest. lol, I still owe a wedding._

_Alana Xavier1 - thank you. And if you ever want to chat, feel free to email me! I hope you're alright!_

_meadow567 - lol, thank you. I think they needed one!_

_Thoren - I'm mean with making you wait, aren't I? I'll try to get better (:s)_

_sparkyCSI - You've reminded me about Robin... I got so involved in the chapters I sent you that I kinda forgot about him. Oops._

_ambercsiny - I went off the theory of that's what I'd want to say/hear!_

_demolished-soul - You're right. But sometimes you can't tell them - because they're married! And then it's too late (:c)_

_Trizzy - There won't be wedding bells for a while. God, over 200 chapters and not a single wedding. Wow, I suck! I guess I shall have to deliver you fluff! And I'm glad I got Lily right._

_Right, I don't know where to start. Actually, the best place would be with the biggest thanks you could possibly imagine for the support with the last chapter. I'm not exaggerating when I say it really took me over six weeks to write! So, from the bottom of my heart - thank you._

_Next up, I have big thanks to Sparky. This weekend I bombarded her with chapters and she got them back to me so quickly!_

_Finally, we have spoilers for 4x21: Hostage._

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 213: There trouble everywhere, it's all around**

Taylor awoke feeling like she'd only just gone to bed. That wasn't far from the truth. They had decided that they were catching a red-eye back to New York, and whilst Flack had fallen asleep almost instantly, Taylor had, quite frankly, been too terrified to sleep. Her hands still ached from where she had been gripping the arms of the chair. The grey light was barely breaking through the curtains and she knew it was earlier than normal. She was even surprised to find that Flack was already awake and watching her sleep. 'You're up early,' she muttered, grumpy at the fact he was again watching her sleep.

'I have to be to catch you sleeping,' he grinned at her.

Taylor scowled. 'You know I hate that,' she pointed out, poking her tongue out at him.

Flack just shrugged, still grinning like an idiot.

Taylor propped herself up with an elbow so she could look over his shoulder at the bright red digital display of the clock. 'Don, it's barely six am. Why in God's name are _you_ up at this time? You're not at work until ten.'

Flack's face fell slightly. 'I _could_ be up early because I'm excited.'

'Excited about what?' Taylor asked him with a yawn.

'You really don't remember?' he asked her, his face falling further.

Taylor frowned, her forehead creasing up as she tried to think. She knew exactly what he was excited about. 'Nope,' she shook her head. 'You're going to have to give me a clue.'

'What's the date?'

'March the something or other?'

Flack sighed.

'Oh!' Taylor exclaimed. 'I'm sorry. How could I forget?'

'You remembered?' His eyes suddenly lit up like a child who had come downstairs on Christmas morning to discover that Santa had been and he'd been a _very_ good boy.

Taylor kept her face straight, feeling slightly cruel. _Slightly_. 'It's the day you get a new partner, isn't it.'

Flack stared at her. 'Yeah,' he sighed, flatly. 'That's right.'

'Well good luck with that,' she yawned before flopping back into the pillows.

There was suddenly a flash of hope in Flack's eyes. 'Do you have anything exciting planned today?'

'Nope,' Taylor yawned. 'Work. Although, I do need to go to the bank before I go in. I need to make sure I have the right amount of funds in my account before the money comes out for my car,' she explained before giving an excited squeal. 'My new car comes at the end of this week!'

'You don't have anything else planned?' Flack pressed.

Taylor sighed. 'I supposed I should tackle that pile of laundry as well.' She sat upright. 'I may as well go and jump in the shower,' she informed him, quickly pecking him on the sheet before she escaped from the bed.

She was just pulling the door to the bathroom closed behind her when she heard Flack mutter 'happy birthday to you, too,' under his breath. With a sly smile, she shut the door.

---

'You haven't forgotten, have you?' Taylor asked before Danny could even say hello.

'_Forgotten what_?'

Taylor switched the phone to her other ear and frowned. 'About Don's birthday?'

'_Taylor!_' Danny groaned. '_That's what I mean: it was a play on words._'

'Sorry, Danny,' she sighed. 'I just want everything to go right tonight.'

'_Don't worry. The table is booked for twelve people at eight o'clock. I'll get Don to come out for a couple of beers and you guys can surprise him there,' _Danny reassured her, repeating her plan back to her.

'Twelve people?'

'_Yeah, well I figured we may as well invite his new partner and there's then a couple of extra seats in case someone else appears._'

'Thanks, Danny,' Taylor sighed as she crossed the street. She hadn't been lying when she told Flack she needed to go to the bank – she really did need to check her funds for her car, and as her editor was turning into (or evidently, already was) a bitch, she was going to do it before work. She pushed open the large glass doors and strode in, shivering slightly at the cool interior as she joined the end of the line to see a teller. 'Look Danny, I'm at the bank now. I'll give you a call later to finalize everything.'

'_Drew, everything is finalized. Stop worrying, do what you have to do, and I'll see you tonight,' _he told her before he hung up.

Taylor pulled the phone away from her ear and as she was glancing down at the display, someone ripped it from her hand. Before she could shout her objections, there was a loud crack.

'EVERYONE DOWN ON THE GROUND!'

As Taylor realized the crack was actually a gun being fired, she dropped to the ground, as ordered, trying not to panic as she tried to work out if she had just been shot. The screams echoed around the room as others dropped to the floor.

'I SAID GET DOWN!'

As she came to the conclusion she was physically fine and not bleeding, she peeked up at the man who was storming over to one of the tellers. 'Get down on the floor,' he demanded. He turned around and spotted Taylor peering up at him. 'Get your head down,' he snarled at her, flashing the gun in her direction.

Taylor didn't need to be asked twice. Her head went down and her eyes squeezed shut as she prayed for help.

It seemed to take an eternity of nothing happening very quickly before she could hear the sirens outside.

The man swore.

Minutes later, a phone started to ring.

The man began pacing up and down, continually swearing as he raked his hands (and the gun) over his head. Finally, after no reprieve from the ringing, he stormed over to the phone. 'What?' he demanded. He listened to what was being said. 'I'll tell you what I want. I want an unmarked police car and no press. And, and somebody from crime scene.' There was another pause. 'Fine.' And with that, he hung up.

---

After another eternity, there was a knocking and the man hurried away. Wondering if he was leaving, Taylor hesitantly lifted her head to see. He hadn't – he was just heading for the emergency exit. Minutes later, he reappeared, someone with him.

Taylor's heart leapt – she had never been so happy to see Mac Taylor, ever! He was busy taking in the scene as he was led over to an open vault door. She frowned at that – she hadn't even realized he'd managed to get it open.

The man distracted her from her thoughts. 'He's in there,' he told Mac, using his gun to point in the vault.

Taylor tried to crane her neck to see what he was pointing at, but she couldn't see anything from her angle other than the top halves of Mac and the man holding them hostage.

'You know the deal,' Mac told him.

The man nodded and hurried over to the security guard. 'Up,' he ordered, practically yanking him to his feet.

As he was half dragged to the door, pleading with him not to kill him, Taylor ignored him, trying to catch Mac's attention by using only her eyes. In reality it didn't work. But, with trained eyes taking in the room and its occupants, he found her anyway. He gave her a completely startled look and then with a quick glance at their captor, mouthed, '_what are you doing __here__?'_

Taylor shrugged, looked over her shoulder and then mouthed back, _'banking.'_ He couldn't seriously think that she'd gone in there for any other reason? She didn't get chance to ponder the question, because the man was back. Quickly, she ducked her head.

'One around your ankle and the other around the bag,' the man said.

Taylor glanced up in time to see him throw something at Mac, who had moved back into the vault.

'You expect me to believe you didn't kill him?' Mac asked him.

'I didn't,' he told him. 'This man was dead before I got here. Now prove it.'

Mac nodded and started taking pictures – Taylor could see the periodic flashing, as well as make out the clicks. Aside from whimpering from the various hostages – and she really couldn't blame them – the bank was silent.

Finally, after another eternal time, as the man was hovering over his hostages, rather than Mac, Mac spoke up. 'I need to use a computer and send these crime scene photos back to the lab to be analyzed.'

Their captor stared at him. 'And how are photos of a dead guy gonna prove I'm innocent?'

'They're a permanent record of the crime scene in its original state. I can't process the body or have my team analyze evidence without this documentation.'

There was a long pause as the man clearly tried to see if Mac was trying to trick him or not. Finally he nodded his head at a terminal. 'Use this computer then. But no tricks. I'm watching.'

Taylor watched as Mac calmly walked over to the computer and stuck the memory card from the camera into the card reader. 'You got a name?' he asked.

'Joe,' Joe said.

Mac nodded. 'What's your real name?'

'All that you need to know is that it's Joe,' Joe informed him as his cell phone rang. He flicked it open. 'Yeah… What?... No… that's not – that's not true. That's not what happened. It's not what you think,' he said, pacing back and forth. 'Just calm down. I can hear you. You have to understand, I don't know what you think that you saw, but 'it's not what you think, okay.'

With Joe distracted, Taylor glanced over at Mac, her eyes wide. 'Mac?'

'It's gonna be alright,' he told her.

One of the men looked over. 'Are you a cop?'

Mac nodded.

'Then get us the hell outta here.'

'Please,' said the woman who had been just in front of Taylor in the line. 'I'm three months pregnant and I don't want to die.'

'No one's gonna die,' Taylor told her, her voice sounding a lot calmer than she knew she actually was.

'I don't care what you saw,' Joe cried. 'That's not what happened!' He hung up looking momentarily worried. As soon as he turned around, the worry was gone. 'Heads down,' he bellowed.

Mac looked over at him. 'I need to start processing the body.'

'Go ahead,' Joe told him. 'What?' he asked as Mac continued to stand and stare at him.

'If you want to get out of here tonight, I'm going to need some help.'

Joe shook his head. 'You're not bringing anyone else in here. I'm not that stupid.'

'Then this could take a while,' Mac shrugged.

Joe raked a hand over his cropped hair and looked around. His eyes fell on Taylor. 'You.'

Taylor looked up.

'I know you. Your face used to be all over the city.'

Taylor nodded. The old publicity had eventually been replaced (although there was still the odd bench with her face on it) and she'd been hoping that Joe wouldn't recognize her.

Joe swore. 'I said no press.'

Taylor swallowed, feeling like there was something large lodged in her throat. 'I came in to do my banking,' she stammered at him. 'I swear.'

Joe swore again. 'I want you up here where I can keep an eye on you.' He looked at Mac. 'Looks like you got your help,' he informed him as he yanked Taylor to her feet and pushed her over to Mac.

She stumbled slightly and Mac caught her. 'I need you to comb through the victim's hair. Can you do that?'

Taylor nodded and took the comb and sheet of paper Mac fished out of his kit, her hands shaking. He led her over to the body, and she stepped over the blood to crouch down by the body's head. Mac followed her and picked up one of his hands.

'What are you looking for?' Joe asked, watching them from the doorway of the vault.

Mac looked up. 'Foreign DNA: Evidence left behind by his attacker,' he held up the hand he had been taking scrapings from underneath the fingernails. 'This man has defensive wounds. Indicates there was a struggle. How long you been married?' he asked, nodding at Joe's hand. 'I was married once. Nice to have someone who cares about you.'

Joe laughed darkly. 'You think you're gonna get into my head, detective? Is that it? Bring up my wife, tell me how much she loves me and that I shouldn't be doing this?'

Mac shrugged. 'All I'm thinking is that if you didn't kill this man, then maybe all of this could still work out in your favor.'

'No,' Joe disagreed. 'It'll work out. If you do your job correctly, it'll work out.'

Taylor shot Mac a look as Joe's phone rang again. He just shook his head at her.

'Where's my police car?' Joe demanded. 'I can still see the media, and I know you've got one in here…' he glared over at Taylor who whitened. 'That woman who was on the posters… I don't care what her name is…' He scowled. 'Well let's hope the kids are outta the room when I start tossing bodies in your direction, and I'll be starting with her.… '

Taylor could feel her stomach turn over and suddenly, combing a dead guy's hair was a very difficult task. Mac's hand appeared over hers, feeling warm and safe. She looked up into Mac's grey eyes.

'You're going to be fine,' he told her. 'I promise.'

Taylor nodded, unable to speak.

Mac got to his feet as Joe hung up the phone. 'Joe?'

'What now?' Joe snapped.

'I need to test you for gun shot residue.'

'How's that work?'

Mac help up the small contained. 'I collect with one of these and a positive result tells me that you've fired your gun recently.'

Joe just shrugged at him. 'Don't waste your time. I did.'

'Was that the only time you fired your weapon?' Mac asked.

'That's right. One shot. Up there,' he pointed to the ceiling and the small hole in it.

Mac looked between the hole and the body. 'This could have been an accident.'

'No,' Joe said venomously, waving his gun at them. 'It wasn't an accident. I'm not gonna let you pin his murder on me.'

Mac held his hands out. 'Calm down, Joe. No one's doing that.'

'You think I don't know what's going on out there?' Joe shot at him. 'Your friends are out there trying to figure out a way to get in here without killing a lot of innocent people. They don't give a damn about me. They think I'm a murderer. And you know what that means? It means they're gonna put a bullet in me the first chance they get. That's why I'm not leaving here until you prove that I didn't pull the trigger. And if I'm not leaving, nobody's leaving.'

Mac took a breath. 'Well, then get me a CT scanner.'

Joe's eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'What's that?'

'It's kind of a lie detector for scientists. It will allow me to look inside the body and tell me if you're telling the truth,' Mac explained.

---

Somehow, in under half an hour, no less, a CT scanner found its boxed-up way into the bank, along with some bottles of water.

'Well, get to work,' Joe said, looking expectantly at Mac.

Mac pointed down to the chain on around his ankle. 'It's going to be a little hard with this bag slowing me down.

'Well that's too bad.'

Mac just shrugged at him. 'The faster we get this done, the sooner you get what you want. It's up to you.'

Joe stared at him for a few moments before throwing the keys at him. Mac caught them and calmly unlocked his restraints. He then looked at the crate. 'I'm going to need some help getting this out of here.'

Joe glared at him. 'And what do you think she is?' he asked, using his gun to point at Taylor. 'Decoration.'

Taylor hurried over and caught Mac's eye. 'I, uh, I don't think I'm going to be able to lift this,' she told Joe.

Joe scowled and toed a guy on the floor. 'You. Go help them.'

The man hurried over.

'Where do you keep the surveillance tapes?' he asked him in a low voice.

'They're recorded to a hard drive in the manager's office.,' the guy explained as he helped them unload the equipment. As soon as the scanner was in the vault, the man hurried back to his original position on the floor, eyeing Joe warily as he moved past him. Joe nodded his head at Taylor and she quickly darted over to a spot with the other hostages.

* * *

_Good luck to all of you with exams and essays and such! I know it's getting to that time of year for most!_


	215. But I'm trying hard these days not to

_Madison Bellows - I was going to drop an email, but I haven't stopped all week! The muse has much planned out - I just don't have the time to write it (:c)_

_Shabbs - Hey, I'm heading over there as soon as this is posted! (See note at bottom of chapter!)_

_ambercsiny - I got your chapters - I shall have them back to you tomorrow morning! She'll be fine, don't worry. I can't kill her off again so soon!_

_sparky - lol, I keep going back and editing it anyway when the new ideas hit me. I think there might be some surprises coming up, even for you!_

_RK9 - You're always missed - don't be silly! I hope you get your laptop fixed soon - I know I'd go mad without mine!_

_meadow567 - they won't, but the birthday won't go unforgotten!_

_Hailey Lebeau - Yeah, the writers came back after the strike and wrote some cracking episodes!_

_Okay, I'm still reeling from watching the season finale. I won't give anything away - don't worry. However, there are spoilers for last season's finale instead (Hostage!)_

_Big thanks to sparky for betaing!_

**

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 214: But I'm trying hard these days not to procrastinate and face my fate**

Taylor glanced down at her watch for the umpteenth time. It was past eleven already. They had been in the bank for over two hours, although it felt like much longer. She had the general dirty feel one got when they'd been up all night wearing the same clothes. Her stomach felt like it was clenched in knots and there was a dull throbbing from scar tissue where she had been shot.

Mac had remained in the vault for some time, checking the body over, sending information to the crime lab, and awaiting an analysis.

Taylor glanced up at the sound of raised voices. Joe was indignantly telling Mac that he only fired one shot, waving the gun around as he did so.

Taylor shuddered and looked away, trying to replay the scene over in her head. She'd been that busy talking to Danny, trying to plan Don's birthday surprise that she hadn't even been paying attention.

_Don._

She'd been that mean that she had pretended that she hadn't even remembered his birthday.

And if she didn't make it out of the bank, that was going to be his last memory of her.

She lowered her head, her breathing shaky. It was a wonder that leaving the house was safe for her these days.

The next thing she knew, she was being ordered to her feet.

'Alright, listen up,' Joe yelled.

Mac looked over and frowned. 'Right, I need you to split up and look around. You're looking for a small piece of metal which looks like a mushroom. But it's important that you do not touch it or move it. Just call me and I will come and collect it.'

Taylor dropped back to her knees and began crawling around, thankful to have something to take her mind off things, and also thankful that she knew what a spent round looked like.

She didn't find it. A woman on the other side of the room did. 'I found it!' she called.

'Don't touch it!' Mac shouted back, his voice originating from back in the vault.

Taylor sat on her knees as Mac hurried over and scooped it up into a dish. He hurried over to a desk and started to process it. It didn't take long for him to sit back with a defeated sigh, setting the bullets on the desk. 'Joe, this isn't going to work. The bullets are too damaged. There's no way to include or exclude your weapon.'

'You- you've just been stringing me along?' Joe cried angrily, returning to waving his gun around. 'You've just been wasting my time?'

Taylor flinched.

Joe grabbed a hold of Mac, pulling him from his seat. 'Get on the floor! Just, get on the floor, man!' He stuck the gun under Mac's chin as he pulled him along.

'Stop it!' Taylor shrieked in a blind panic.

Joe turned the gun on her. 'What is this?' he asked, switching his aim between her and Mac. 'Have you two got something planned?'

Taylor blinked, fear paralysing her to the spot. Finally she found her voice. 'See... see... CCTV,' she stammered.

Joe released Mac and stepped back to look at him.

'It should show us everything,' Mac agreed.

Joe paused, then pointed his gun back at Mac. 'Where?'

'In the manager's office.'

Joe looked around. 'If any of you try _anything_, I _will_ shoot you.' He turned to Mac. 'Come on then,' he glanced over at Taylor. 'You too.'

Taylor followed Mac, aware that Joe's gun was trained on her back, to the manager's office.

Mac slid behind the desk and quickly accessed the computer, pulling up the recorded CCTV images from various points around the bank. He watched the images for a few minutes before turning to Joe. 'You say you walked in the bank as soon as it opened this morning?'

'Yeah.'

'What time was that?'

'Nine o'clock. Why?'

Mac looked over at Taylor who quickly nodded. With a frown, Mac walked away from the computer and out of the room. 'Hey, where are you going?' Joe called after him. Waving his gun at Taylor, she and Joe quickly hurried after him as Mac re-entered the vault.

'I'm talking to you,' Joe added as he entered the vault.

Mac ignored him, looking at the table next to the door. On it was several stacks of bundles of bills. There easily had to be several thousand. Wordlessly, ignoring the gun trained on his back, Mac pulled a small can of something Taylor recognised as luminal, and began spraying the bundles. They instantly turned the pink Taylor knew meant there was blood present.

'What is that?' Joe asked.

'Blood,' Mac told him. 'We've gotta talk.'

Joe looked at him. 'About what?'

"The money that you took. Where is it?' Mac asked him. 'Did your partner take it? Is that who's been calling you, Joe?'

'I don't have a partner,' Joe told him.

'Then where's the money? The money was here,' Mac pointed to the void matter-of-factly. 'It was taken right after this man was shot.'

Joe shook his head. 'I never had the chance to grab anything. Your friends were here before I had the chance to fill a bag up.'

Mac ignored him and turned to Taylor. 'Did you see him with anything?'

Taylor shook her head. 'I didn't see much, Mac,' she admitted. 'But what I did see, there wasn't any money on him. And he wasn't ever out of sight unless he was with you.'

Mac strode out of the vault and back into the main bank area. 'Did anyone see Joe take any money out of this vault?'

'Hey!' Joe objected, hurrying after him.

Mac cut him off. 'Let them answer the question.' Without giving Joe chance to respond, he addressed the hostages again. 'Did anyone see Joe remove money from the vault?'

Everyone shook their heads.

Mac frowned and headed for the phone. 'We have a problem,' he told Joe as he picked the phone up and dialled. 'Danny, it's Mac...yeah, I'm good. I took a look at the security footage from inside the bank. The cameras were disconnected at a few minutes before eight this morning... and that's not all. I've got a spatter void and money missing from the vault which could only mean one thing... and the vic could be the casualty from _that_ heist. Which means that maybe this isn't a coincidence,' Mac explained to Danny, never taking his eyes off Joe. 'Maybe this isn't about money, but something else.'

Joe hung up. 'What do you mean?'

'You tell me,' Mac suggested.

'Man, you can't be trusted to go anywhere,' Maddy announced very loudly, causing Taylor to jump. Thankfully the action wasn't noticed by Joe as he was completely focused on Mac.

Taylor glowered at her.

'Oh relax,' Maddy shrugged. 'You're not dying today.'

'Why are you here?' Taylor mouthed at her dead friend.

Maddy shrugged as she began wandering amongst the people sitting on the floor. 'God, it's quiet in here. And tense,' she added. 'It's occasions like this that life could do with some background music.' She grinned at Taylor. 'How cool would that be? If there was some ABBA playing?'

Taylor just shot her a disbelieving look.

'Good point,' Maddy agreed. 'This isn't a _Mama Mia_ moment. Maybe some Linkin Park would be appropriate. Or Muse? Muse would work. Get some _Time Is Running Out_ going,' she looked around the room. 'You know, forget background music, I bet the acoustics in here would be fantastic.'

Taylor had to wait until Maddy was looking at her before she could wave her arms at her in a _what the hell?_ motion.

'I told you; relax,' Maddy shrugged. 'You're gonna be fine. In fact, you'll be out of here before you know it. I don't think your birthday surprise for Donny Boy is going to work out though. I just wanted to say, keep an eye on Stella. We gotta make sure that little _bebé _of hers is alright.' She glanced over at Mac as the telephone rang. 'You might want to listen to this, by the way. It might be important.' And then she disappeared.

Taylor stared at the spot, wondering what had just transpired. Surely Maddy had been a little _too_ forthcoming in information?'

'The bank manager's wife?' Mac was saying.

Taylor blinked and focused in on the conversation.

'When...? Something's not making sense. We've got witnesses out there that say they saw the gun man enter the bank alone and they only heard one shot. There's money missing, two bullets inside the vic from a Kris SuperV and I'm staring at our guy's standard 45.'

And then Joe slammed the phone down. 'Hey, you heard the woman. Someone else was in here. So you call whoever you need to call and you tell them that I didn't murder anyone,' he dropped a phone down in front of Mac. 'Call!'

Mac shook his head. 'I can't do that. All I've got is a theory and your word.'

'You know,' Joe said, his gun waving about erratically again. 'I'm beginning to regret asking for a CSI. We're done.'

'Wait a minute,' Mac told him, reaching behind him for an evidence envelope from his kit. 'If I can get these bullets back to my lab,' be began putting the bullets into the envelope. 'And we can match the bullets from the bank manager's wife, then I'll know what you're telling me is the truth.'

Joe eyed him, and then nodded. 'Done. What else?'

'I want this evidence taken out of here by a hostage.'

'Forget it.'

Mac dropped the evidence bag on the table and stood back with his hands on his hips. 'Then I'm done. Either you give me something I want, or you can take these bullets across the street yourself.'

Joe looked around, his hand sliding over his hair, until he pointed at a man by his feet. 'Alright. You.'

'I want her.' Mac pointed at the woman who had told them she was pregnant, and for a second, Taylor was upset Mac hadn't pointed at her.

Joe nodded.

---

Taylor leant back against the wall and sighed silently. She knew it took a while for the CSIs to process evidence – she knew it wasn't like TV where answers were given in seconds – but time felt like it had slowed right down.

The other hostages were sitting silently, most staring into space, a few doing the same as her and watching Mac and Joe. Mac, also aware it would take time for the information to be returned, had taken to fingerprinting the vault door, whilst Joe was pacing back and forth, constantly checking his watch.

Suddenly, the lights went out and the vault descended into darkness and silence as the gentle hum of the air conditioning unit also ceased working.

'What? What the hell is going on?' Joe asked, watching the lights go out section by section.

'Hostage rescue is getting restless,' Mac explained calmly. 'They're not going to sit out there doing nothing all day, Joe.'

Joe strode over to the phone and picked it up. 'I want you to turn the power back on, now!' he demanded. 'Listen to me very carefully. If you don't turn on the power in one minute, I'll give you a hostage. But you better tell the morgue to come pick her up.'

Taylor swallowed, replaying what Maddy had told her over in her head. She was the only female in the room.

Joe slammed the phone down and turned to Mac. 'Call you friend and tell him to turn the power back on.'

Mac dropped his duster on the desk. 'Enough is enough, Joe. Tell me what's going on. You say you didn't kill the manager, the evidence seems to support that, but if you want my help, you've got to tell me how you got in this position. You're not at the point of no return, Joe. This doesn't have to end badly.'

Joe walked away.

And Mac took the opportunity to grab something off the desk and swing it at Joe's head. As Joe went crashing to the ground, Taylor leapt to her feet. 'Quick!' she cried, half pulling, half helping the other hostages behind a counter, away from the line of the gun as Mac fought to free the gun from Joe.

As she dashed back out to help someone else, Mac's cries startled her and she looked over to see Mac standing over Joe, the gun safely in his hands.

'Don't move!' Mac shouted. 'Don't you move! Get your hands behind your head.'

He pulled Joe to his feet and pushed him forward.

And then Joe did something Taylor didn't expect. He fell to his knees and began crying. 'Please,' he begged. 'Please. They'll kill my family. You can't walk me out there – they're watching,' he sobbed.

Taylor stared over at Mac, mouth hanging open.

'I'm the hostage here,' Joe continued. 'You've got to believe me. My real name is Douglas Anderson. I work for an insurance company. If they see you walk me out this bank, they'll kill my family.'

Mac lowered his gun a fraction as Taylor joined him.

'I don't know their names,' Joe told them. 'The bank manager, Walter; I live across the street from the guy. It was just another ordinary day. I kissed my wife and daughter to leave the house to hit the gym before work. The next thing I know, a car has pulled up in front of me, blocking me in and two guys are jumping out of it, ordering us back in the house, armed with guns. They tied my wife and daughter up and said that if I didn't do what they said they'd kill them,' he yelled the last part at them.

'They wanted you to rob this bank?' Mac asked. 'The evidence says they already robbed it. And apparently they got away. Why would they want you to rob the same bank an hour later?' Mac glanced down at something on the table.' 'They left their phone behind.'

'Yeah,' Joe nodded, still sobbing. 'They said that Walter tried to play hero. They must have shot his wife after that.'

'They forced you to go back in to retrieve the phone?'

'Yeah,' Joe agreed. 'But by then the bank had already opened.'

Mac perched on the edge of the desk. 'And you've been in contact with the bank robbers the whole time.'

'They wanted me to get out of here with their phone,' Joe admitted. 'Because it's the only thing that links them to their robbery. They said that if I got the phone back to them I'd get my family back. I need to get out of here. I need for them to see me get out of here. Will you help me? Please?'

Mac shared a look with Taylor.

'What do you need me to do?' she asked him in a low voice.

'You tell Stella and Flack everything, as soon as we've driven away. You think you can do that?' Taylor nodded as Mac flashed her a small smile. 'It's almost over,' he told her.

---

It was. Moments later, Mac was on the phone requesting a car. As soon as he hung up he began emptying the gun's magazine of its bullets, dropping them on the table. He turned to Taylor as it became apparent the car had arrived. 'Remember, let us get away first.'

Taylor nodded.

They turned around to find Douglas right behind them. 'It's time?'

'It's time,' Mac confirmed, handing him the unloaded gun and putting his hands behind his head. Douglas grabbed it, pulled his hood up, and pushed Mac towards the door.

And then they were gone.

* * *

_Righto guys:_

_**It's time for the CSI:NY FanFiction Awards again. I believe nominating closes tonight, so head over to the forum and get suggesting your favourite story before it's too late! I'm heading there myself!**_

_**Voting starts tomorrow, so if it's saturday when you're reading this, go have a gander and go vote!**_


	216. And you think you know what life's about

_Bmangaka - It's alright, I remember my GCSE's and life stopped for a month! I hope they're all going alright for you!_

_Trizzy - I have a bit of a 'present' for you in this chapter. He just worries, but I don't think he was that bad, actually. Oh dear - maybe I'm mellowing! They need a new album out. I'm actually listening to Minutes to Midnight at the mo. Undergrad - now that brings back some very weird MTV memories!_

_sparkyCSI - I know what you mean. Gary Sinise is Mac - not evil kidnapper guy. It's just wrong. And I've started to appreciate Mac again. It's taken three series to get the love back, but it's back!_

_Vanessa.J - You focus on your exams - they'll soon be over and then you'll be writing non-stop! I didn't like it at first - I had Mac issues for the longest time, but I've really enjoyed these chapters - they just flowed!_

_meadow567 - she will. Part of the reason she doesn't is my fault, because I forget what I write when I disappear forever and then I'm like, 'oh yeah...'! I suck sometimes!_

_ambercsiny - thanks hun! I'm sending you that chapter now, btw!_

_As always, a big thanks to my awesome beta, sparky._

_Still got Hostage spoliers. No, wait, we're on Veritas now - 5x01!_

**

* * *

**

What The Eyes Can't See

**Chapter 215: And you think you know what life's about**

As soon as Mac left the bank, everything moved in a blur. SWAT moved in, ordering everyone to the ground – to which nobody argued.

With her arms above her head, Taylor didn't move until she heard Flack's frantic calls. 'I'm here,' she called softly as she sat upright. She barely had time to process which direction he had come from before his arms were wrapped around her so tightly she could only just breathe. But she didn't complain – she held him just as tightly.

'Are you alright?' he asked her, pulling back to examine her.

Taylor nodded. 'I'm fine,' she reassured him. 'I'm really fine.'

'Oh God,' he breathed, pulling her back against his chest.

Taylor pushed him away. 'I knew it was your birthday,' she blurted out.

'What?'

'This morning,' she explained. 'I knew it was your birthday. I just wanted to surprise you.'

Flack softly shook his head. 'Tay, that's not important.'

'No, it is,' she pushed. 'If something would have happened to me-'

'It didn't,' Flack said, the relief still there in his voice.

'Taylor?'

Taylor looked up over Flack's shoulder and found Stella staring down at her. 'Hi Stell.'

'Taylor, I'm sorry, but you need to tell us what you know.'

'Stella, she needs to get to a hospital,' Flack told the CSI firmly.

'Flack, I'm sorry, but you know how hostage situations work. Even if it is Mac, we still need to know,' Stella responded.

Taylor rested her hand on Flack's chest. 'Don, I'm fine. I promise. Let me help.'

'Taylor, what happened?' Stella asked.

Taylor quickly recounted what she could remember. 'Mac took all the bullets out of the gun,' she finished a few minutes later. 'Joe, or Douglas, or whatever his name is, isn't armed.'

'That's good to know,' Stella sighed. 'Do you know where they went?'

Taylor nodded. 'To Joe's home. To save his family.'

'We need to get over there,' Stella told Flack.

Taylor shook her head. 'Stella, you're seven months pregnant. You should be keeping that baby safe.'

Stella looked like she was going to snap something, but Flack beat her to it. 'Stell, she has a point. The only reason I let you stay outside is because of your friendship with Mac. You should be back in the lab where we know you're safe.'

'I'm pregnant, not an invalid,' Stella snapped. 'I am capable of doing my job and neither of you are my superior officer.'

'No, but the stress isn't going to be good for the baby,' Hawkes interrupted. 'And you have to listen to me because I'm a doctor.'

Taylor looked up at the doctor who had appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and back to Stella.

'Fine,' Stella grumbled. 'Get Danny and get over to Joe's house. Taylor, you're coming with me.'

Taylor nodded and allowed Flack to help her to her feet. 'You stay with Stella,' he told her. The two men quickly disappeared, leaving the two women alone.

'I'm sorry,' Taylor apologised. 'I just don't want your baby to be hurt.'

Stella sighed. 'I know. Thank you. I just forget what my limitations are sometimes. We should get back to the lab.'

Taylor nodded and followed the detective out of the bank. Outside, beyond the cordoned off area, the place was swarming with reporters. 'Wow,' Taylor sighed. 'I guess there was nothing else going on in the world this morning.'

Stella led her to her SUV. 'You have no idea.'

---

As they walked into the crime lab, Lindsay and Adam came running down the corridor. 'We have a problem,' Lindsay informed them.

'A _big_ problem,' Adam emphasized.

'What's the matter?' Stella asked them.

'We've just heard from Flack. The house was empty. There was nothing in that house,' Lindsay explained.

'And Mac's gone missing too,' Adam added.

Stella looked between the two of them and then shut her eyes. As soon as she opened again, she took charge. 'Lindsay, I want you on the roof as soon as possible. We need to get you in the air, searching for that SUV. Adam, you're coming with me to the A/V lab. I want communication with everyone.'

'Of course,' Lindsay nodded, taking off for the elevator.

'Sure thing,' Adam nodded, and hurried back to the A/V lab, Stella and Taylor right behind them.

'What do you want me to do?' Taylor asked her.

'If I told you to go home, would you?'

Taylor shook her head.

'I have comms ready,' a new person announced, handing an earpiece over to Stella.

'It's alright, Chad. Put it on speaker,' Stella told him with a tone that indicated she knew Chad. She turned to Taylor. 'Taylor, this is Chad Willingham. He's Kendall's replacement.'

'I like to think of Kendall as my replacement,' he said. 'And I'm just getting my job back.'

'_I _was your replacement,' Adam objected. 'Does that mean I'm going?'

'Nah,' Chad shook his head, as though Stella and Taylor weren't there. 'Every good lab tech needs a lab rat sidekick, and you've got the job.'

'Hey!' Adam objected. 'I'm nobody's sidekick. I'm the one that needs a sidekick. You can be my Robin.'

'You think you're Batman? I guess Val Kilmer was the lamer Batman, but I'm no Chris O'Donnell-'

'I'm a Christian Bale Batman,' Adam cried.

'Guys!' Stella interrupted them.

---

'Lindsay, where are you?' Stella asked.

'_I just got a call __from__ Flack. He said Mac's car was spotted over the GW Bridge. We're heading in that direction now.'_ Lindsay's voice echoed in the room.

'Good,' Stella muttered as her phone started ringing. 'Bonasera… Hello…? Mac? Where are you?' There was a moment's pause and she turned to Taylor. 'We're going to New Jersey.'

'You're going nowhere,' Taylor told her firmly. 'You have to think of him,' she pointed to Stella's stomach.

'It's a boy?' Adam asked.

Stella smiled. 'Actually, yes, it is.' The smile quickly left her face. 'But that's not the point.'

Taylor sighed. 'Stella, I made a promise that your baby wouldn't get hurt, and damn it, I am keeping that promise.'

'A promise to who?' Stella asked, curiously.

'Myself,' Taylor said firmly.

Stella nodded. 'Fine. But I want you to go over to Jersey. I don't want you getting involved, Taylor,' she added. 'I just trust you to tell me how Mac really is.'

'Oh thank God,' Peyton's voice carried through the A/V room. 'You've heard from Mac?' Taylor turned. Peyton was standing in the doorway, pajama bottoms poking out from under her coat and her hair looking like she hadn't run a brush through it. 'I was on the night shift last night,' Peyton gushed. 'I woke up and turned the news on and Mac hasn't been answering my calls.'

'He's in Jersey,' Stella told her calmly. 'He's fine, Peyton.'

There was a look of instant relief that washed over her face. 'Oh thank God,' she repeated.

Stella turned to Taylor. 'You go. I'll get Peyton some tea.'

---

By the time Taylor got to Jersey, there were just as many reporters there as there had been at the bank – if not more. She pushed her way through them to the tape and caught the eye of an officer. 'Detective Bonasera has sent me to check on Detective Taylor.'

The officer nodded. 'Just keep near the chopper,' he said indicating to the helicopter Mac was sat in. 'They're pulling the car out of the river.'

Taylor nodded and ducked under the tape. She didn't make it near the chopper. Flack came to her first. 'Taylor, what are you doing here?' he demanded.

'Stella sent me to check on Mac, that's all,' she told him, holding her hands up in surrender. 'What's happened?' she asked, nodding at the body that was being pulled out of the water.

Flack exhaled softly, his expression softening as he brushed her hair behind her ear and upped her cheek. 'We think it's one of the original bank robbers. Derrick James. They prime suspect for the bank manager's murder.'

Taylor looked over at the wet body of the black man. 'Well that's definitely not the guy who was waving a gun in my face today. What happened to him?'

'I don't know,' Flack admitted. 'I'm just waiting for the medic to finish with Mac,' he nodded at the female who was packing up her things. As she walked away, Mac made his way over to them.

'Are you alright?' Taylor asked, staring at the now stitched up cut on his head.

'I'm fine. What are you doing here?'

Taylor shrugged. 'Stella was worried. She wanted me to check on you.'

'I'm fine,' Mac repeated. 'Flack, what have we got?' he asked, indicating to James' body.

'That's Derrick James, our prime suspect for the bank manager's murder. But your kidnapper is nowhere in sight. Do you have any idea what happened?'

Mac frowned. 'He calls himself Joe. We were in the car and he changed the route.' He shook his head, still frowning. 'The next thing I remember is pulling myself out of the water.'

'So where's Joe?' Taylor asked, staring out across the water. 'Is he dead?'

Flack shook his head. 'I think he's a fugitive. We've got divers out there and they haven't found anything to indicate there's a body out there.'

'We need to get the car and the vic back to CSI. Maybe once they're processed then we can fill in some of the blanks,' Mac told Flack.

Flack shook his head again. 'That's not going to happen. We're across the river in Jersey jurisdiction. Jersey Brass will only let us take crime scene photographs.'

'But that's an NYPD car. And Mac was in it,' Taylor objected. 'That's not right.'

Flack placed a hand on her shoulder. 'But it's in New Jersey. They want it all – the body, the car and the investigation. They're not looking at sharing on this one. I don't like it at all, but it's protocol. They'll keep us informed and they said they'd share the investigation.'

'So that's it?' Taylor asked, looking at Mac.

'No,' said Mac, firmly. 'This guy robbed a bank, held us hostage, held _others_ hostage and he killed a man. He's not going to get away with this – we're going to find him.' He turned to Taylor. 'But Flack has a point. This is Jersey jurisdiction. You need to get back behind that tape.'

Taylor nodded. 'Not a problem, Mac,' she agreed as someone behind the tape waving at her caught her attention. 'I'll head over there now,' she gave them both a quick smile and walked over to the person who was waving at her.

'I've been outside the bank covering your story all morning,' Noelle Newman exclaimed at her. Noelle, a stunning woman with soft auburn hair and enormous green eyes was one of the _New York Daily's_ top reporters. 'We're going to have a great cover story for the late edition. Oh, Nancy has been trying to get hold of you. She wants you to call her.'

Taylor sighed, her hand dropping down to her pocket to retrieve her phone when she remembered that Joe had taken it. 'Crap,' she sighed. 'Joe took it.'

'Who's Joe?' Noelle pounced.

'The guy who held the bank up,' Taylor muttered. 'But that's not his real name. Can I borrow your phone?'

'Do you know what his real name is?' Noelle asked as she handed over her iPhone.

Taylor took the phone, eyeing Noelle suspiciously. 'No,' she lied. 'It never came up.' She dialed the number. Nancy picked up instantly.

'_Noelle, what do you have?'_

'It's Taylor,' she said.

'_Taylor, get your ass back to the _Daily_ right now.'_ And that was it. Nancy hung up.

Taylor ground her teeth together as she handed the phone back to Noelle.

Noelle's gaze was sympathetic. 'The Witch summoned?'

Taylor nodded glumly. 'Yeah.'

---

'What do you see?'

Taylor had left the crime scene, after borrowing Flack's phone to call Stella and let her know that Mac was alright, and grabbed a taxi. Flack had been more than happy for her to go and return somewhere "safe", although going to see Nancy was probably _not_ as safe as he seemed to think.

She had walked into Nancy's office to find it had changed considerably since Alex had been in there. Gone were the warm red walls and dark wood furniture. Instead it had turned modern and clinical – white walls and glass furniture. Lining the walls were half a dozen flatscreens; CNN, Sky News, Fox News, CBS News and two other local news stations showing on them. All of them were covering the back robbery.

Taylor blinked.

'I see an exclusive, Ms Turner,' Nancy continued. 'A story you were right in the middle of. And more importantly, a story you have insider access to.'

'Nancy, my head was down most of the time,' Taylor said carefully.

Nancy raised her hand, and with a blood red manicured nail, pushed pause on the remote she was holding. The TV showing the CBS News feed froze, focusing on the Jersey crime scene. The Jersey police were busy with the body that had been pulled out of the river, but to the side it caught Flack caressing her cheek. 'That looks a little intimate.'

'He's my fiancé,' Taylor frowned.

Nancy turned, a smile on the blood red lips which matched her nails, but show no warmth. 'An excellent way to get information. Sleep with the informant.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'Don isn't my _informant_, Nancy. I don't even report the news.'

'Taylor, the murder rates in this city are rising again. And you have access to the exclusives.' She hit pause on another screen. This time it showed her talking with Mac and Flack from a distance, what was being said unheard. 'And you obviously have a relationship with the head of the Crime Lab. Taylor, today you're going to progress in your career. I want both you and Reed working on current cases. You for the paper and he can work the web angle.'

'Nancy, with all due respect, that isn't my job,' Taylor objected.

'It is now,' Nancy informed her. 'Now, go report the crime. I want an exclusive on my desk for tomorrow's first edition.'

* * *

_Hey guys! The voting is now taking place at the CSI:NY Fan Fiction awards! I've been nominated in a few categories, and so have several other amazing stories - so show us what you think and go get voting! If you head to my profile I'll even stick a link in it for you!_

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**_Good luck to all y'all who are busy with exams, finals, essays - etc!_**


	217. But everything happens for a reason, I

_Devil-may-care-101 - Hey stranger! You've been missed! I hope the exams are going well!! I'm glad you're still reading. I like Flack like that too - it makes a change from the nagging, lol_

_Trizzy - You like, then? Lol, I agree with your take on the Batmans. I managed to find some time, so I figured, let's get some chapters up. Plus, I found my two muses and they won't leave me alone! (Yay, Chad!)_

_sparkCSI - I do. But I like her at the same time, because she's a witch! I found my love for Mac, I lost my love for Peyton. I just can't work out what I want to do with her!_

_joy1791 - It's alright - so long as I haven't lost you! I hope this is soon enough!_

_Opal Butterfly - Hey! Welcome! I'm glad you love it! I was probably watching NCIS around about when I wrote that chapter - I do love that show! I may have to do a crossover (:P)_

_Nienna Tinehtele - lol, I think you may have to get in line by the sounds of things! Thank you!_

_ambercsiny - lol, I forgot too, and then I had to re-write the chapters because she has a few limitations! I am on a roll - I hope to keep it up!_

_Madison Bellows - Aw, shucks - thank you! I think enjoying writing again has an impact on the chapters! So I'm glad you're enjoying the reading!_

_meadow567 - I'm not sure what I have planned for Nancy yet. I keep changing my mind with her._

_So, big thanks to the awesome beta - sparky, _

_Big thanks to all y'all for the reading and reviewing and adds to favourites/alerts!_

_And finally, we still have some spoilers for Veritas_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 216: But everything happens for a reason, I don't even know what I should say **

'How are you?' Reed asked, looking up from his computer as Taylor slunk into their office, face like thunder.

'Just peachy,' she growled at him.

'What happened?' he asked, unperturbed.

'Nancy's changing my job description.' Taylor toed her computer on, still in a bad mood and waited impatiently for it to boot up.

'No, in the bank.'

Taylor eyed the kid sharply. 'I'm not giving you an interview, Reed.'

Reed frowned. 'But we're a team.'

'We are not a team,' she snapped. 'You report news on your blog, I write columns.'

'But I thought Nancy-'

The kid had a tough skin. 'Nancy can carry on thinking,' she sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. 'Sorry, kid. I just haven't had time to process what happened today and now she wants an exclusive for the morning edition. I don't even know when the deadline for that is.'

'It's Reed,' he told her, finally looking upset. 'I'm not a kid. And the deadline is 4am.'

Taylor frowned – _kid_? When had she become... old? Reed was only a few years younger than her. The frown deepened. _Crap_. He was nearly ten years younger than her! Her head dropped to her desk. 'Kill me now,' she muttered.

'Are you sure you're alright?' Reed asked her.

Taylor raised her head and pushed her hair out of her face. 'Give me two hours when I can officially get out of here, and I will be.'

'Taylor, how's Mac?'

Taylor looked sharply at him. But he did look genuinely concerned. 'I keep forgetting he's your dad.'

'He's not my dad,' Reed corrected her.

'Mac's... Mac,' Taylor shrugged. 'He has this ability to cope really well with just about anything,' she sighed. 'I wish I knew his secret.'

'He wasn't hurt?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Nobody got hurt in the bank, Reed. Except the bank manager, but we don't think it was a captor who killed him, Joe. But when Joe and Mac left the bank, something went wrong. They fished Mac's car out of the river and it looks like the accident gave him concussion. But even though Jersey PD have jurisdiction, Mac's determined to find Joe. He might not have killed the bank manager, but he may have killed the body that was fished out of the river with Mac.'

Reed nodded, looking relieved. 'Thanks,' he muttered.

Taylor gave him a small smile before stretching her arms out and wriggling her fingers. At the very least, she was going to start _something_, just in case Nancy came by to check on her. And as soon as it turned five, she was out the door and finding Flack and maybe Mac – to see what they suggested.

---

By the time she walked into the precinct and over to Flack's desk, she was exhausted. 'Hey,' she greeted him softly, dropping into the chair opposite.

Flack smiled, but before he could say anything his phone rang. He shot her an apologetic smile as he answered it. 'Flack… no, I have photos of Joe up all over the city, the stations and the airports… Look, if they find _anybody_ who resembles him, who could be his cousin, I want to know…. Right.' He hung his phone up and sighed.

'You're no closer to finding Joe?'

Flack wearily shook his head as the phone rang again. 'Flack…. Yeah, sorry. The chances are he's going to dump that car, so look for any make or model that even remotely resembles what we're looking for.'

This time, as he hung up, it wasn't the phone ringing again that interrupted them. It was Adam. And he was looking a little nervous.

'You alright, Adam?' Taylor asked him.

'I, uh, need to talk to Flack,' he muttered, looking uncomfortable. 'You got a second,' he asked him.

'Yeah, what's up?'

'Uh, I just need your help with something,' he told him. He frowned and held up a flash drive. 'You got a place I can plug in?'

Flack looked a little puzzled, but moved out the way so that Adam could access his computer.

'Have you got somewhere a little more private we can go?' Adam asked uncomfortably.

Taylor looked at him. 'I can go if you want?' she offered, rising to her feet.

'That's up to Flack,' Adam said. 'But it's not you I'm worried about,' he added, shifting on the spot.

'Yeah, I've got a place,' Flack told him. 'And you can come too,' he told Taylor. He led them to a small room with a computer and waited for them to enter before closing the door behind them. 'Alright, what's up?' he asked Adam.

Adam took a deep breath. 'I ran with the theory that Joe came back into the city. Which means he either returned using the tunnels or the bridge.'

Flack nodded. 'All of which have surveillance cameras.'

'Specifically in payment zones intended to capture those who don't pay,' Adam agreed. He hit a few buttons and pulled up a slightly blurred image of a man leaning out of a red car. 'I focused on all traffic heading east in the first hour after the bank robbery. And I isolated all cars which were a match to our wheel base and found this.' He pointed at the screen. 'This is Joe at the toll booth. I checked it – and it's a match to the photo of Joe from the bank.'

Flack looked at Adam with a look of pride. 'We got a plate?'

'Bogus plates, but we did get a VIN number when he opened the door.'

'Adam, you're a genius,' Taylor muttered, completely impressed with his skills.

Adam shifted uncomfortably and stared at the screen.

'You certainly are,' Flack agreed. 'Did you run it?'

'I… uh…' Adam faltered. 'The car doesn't belong to Joe.'

Flack looked amused. 'Whose it belong to?'

Adam opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

'Adam?' Taylor asked.

Adam tried again, but with no luck. With an awkward sigh, he clicked a few buttons and brought up the results.

Taylor, who had been watching Adam, looked up at Flack. His expression flicked for a moment before turning impassive. 'You sure about this?' he demanded.

Taylor frowned and glanced down at the ID which had been pulled up. A young, dark haired woman. She cocked her head in confusion, and then her eyes fell on the name.

'I ran it three times,' Adam told them apologetically.

Flack's lips virtually disappeared in a thin line. 'Do Mac and Stella know?'

'No,' Adam said quickly. 'I came to you first.'

'Don?' Taylor looked back up at him.

'I got this one,' he said, addressing Adam.

'Flack, I gotta tell them,' Adam told him.

Flack glanced down at his watch. 'Give me two hours,' he told him before heading for the door.

Adam rubbed his neck uncomfortably.

'Don't worry Adam,' Taylor told him. 'We'll fix this.' She didn't feel as convincing as she sounded as she dashed out of the door and after Flack. 'Don!' she called.

'Taylor, you should be going home,' Flack muttered.

'Cute,' she told him. 'But I'm not going to. Your family is my family, which ever sibling or parental unit that refers to, and if your sister is in trouble, then we'll help her together.'

For the briefest moment, Flack looked like he was could cry, but then he reigned his emotions in and nodded. 'Thank you, Taylor.'

'You don't need to thank me,' she told him, slipping her hand into his.

He squeezed her hand, sighing. 'I hope she hasn't gotten herself into too much trouble this time.'

---

'Where does she live?' Taylor asked as they drove through the village. 'And how come in nearly three years I've only spoken to her on the phone?'

'We're going to where she works,' Flack explained. 'She's a barmaid at a bar near here. And every time I suggest we meet, she's always busy. And you've never met Nathan.'

'Your brother is still backpacking across the Outback, isn't he?' Taylor pointed out.

Flack pulled up outside a club and shut his eyes. 'I love Sam, don't get me wrong, but there's only so many times a brother can bail his sister out of trouble.'

'You want me to come in with you, or wait here?' Taylor asked, gently placing a hand on his thigh.

'No, come in,' he told her. 'I guess it's about time you met Samantha Flack.'

Taylor followed him through the busy club to the bar. At the far end was a woman with the same dark hair, same nose, and same blue eyes as Flack. The resemblance between Flack and Paige was almost nonexistent compared to the similarities to Don and Samantha.

Samantha looked up and spotted her brother instantly. She smiled brightly. 'You still a lager guy?'

Flack smiled back, though his smile wasn't as wide. 'I'm on the clock, thanks.'

'I guess I'll have to have one for the both of us,' Sam said, raising a glass of beer and taking a mouthful. 'And who is this?' she pointed at Taylor.

Taylor smiled. 'I'm Taylor Turner.'

Sam shot Flack a grin. 'This is your girlfriend?' she turned to Taylor and beamed. 'About time I met the person that winds my parents up worse than I do.'

Taylor shifted uncomfortably.

'Sam, where's your car?' Flack interrupted.

'What?'

'Where's your car?' Flack repeated.

'Uh, I lent it to a friend of mine. Lauren,' she told him before disappearing to the other end of the bar.

Flack followed, Taylor close behind him. 'Lauren got a last name?'

'Salinas. What's the problem?'

'I need to talk to her,' Flack told her.

'Well I don't have her number on me and uh, I left my phone at home,' Sam explained as she gathered the ingredients together for a cocktail. 'And I'm starting to get the impression has about six messages from you?'

Taylor hid a smile. There had to be considerably more than that.

Flack wasn't as impressed. 'Where does she live, Sam?'

'Somewhere between Third and Lex, I think.'

Flack scowled at her. 'You're telling me you loaned your car some girl and you don't even know where she lives?'

Sam returned the look. 'Yeah. That's what I'm telling you.' She headed back to the far end of the bar.

Again, Flack and Taylor followed them.

'Look,' Sam sighed. I know her place by sight. Pizza joint, lighting store. She's a friend, she needed a car, I loaned her mine,' she told him. 'Don, what's going on?'

Flack leant over the bar. 'Listen to me, you better not be involved in this, okay? Because I'm not bailing you out this time, and neither is dad.'

'Don,' Taylor muttered, putting her hand on his shoulder. He leant back.

'Involved in what?' Sam asked, looking completely confused.

Flack ignored her and moved away from the bar.

'It was nice meeting you,' Taylor called over her shoulder as she hurried after Flack. 'That was a little harsh, don't you think?' Taylor asked as they got into the car.

Flack looked over at her as he slipped the car into drive. 'Sam gets into these… situations,' he sighed. 'A lot.'

Taylor nodded. 'You told me about the suspensions from school.'

Flack shook his head. 'Tay, this is worse than being busted for smoking weed at school. And since she moved out, it's been one thing after another. The amount of times that I've bailed her out because she's lost her job just before the rent's due.'

Taylor sighed and looked out of the window. 'Where are we going?'

'To see if we can find a pizza joint and a lighting store.'

---

Flack spotted the car before the stores in question. He pulled in, in front of it and got out of the car, pulling his phone out. A half hour later, Mac appeared. 'It fits the description Adam gave for the possible vehicle and the VIN number matches the photo he took from the toll booth.'

'And it's your sister's car?' Mac asked, pulling a pair of gloves on.

Flack looked at him and nodded. 'She loaned it to a Lauren Salinas. I got no answer at Lauren's apartment, and the super wasn't in either,' he explained as Mac examined the car.

'Open it,' Mac ordered an officer. 'Pop the trunk.'

As Mac ducked his head into the passenger side foot well, flack and Taylor moved to the back of the car. Taylor inhaled sharply at the sight of the dead girl in the trunk. 'Great,' she muttered.

'Hey Mac,' Flack called. 'I think we may have found Lauren.'

Mac walked over to join them and peered in the trunk. 'I used her phone.'

'What?' both Flack and Taylor asked.

'I came out of the water on Freedom Way and flagged her car down. She gave me her cell phone. This woman came to my rescue.' He inhaled deeply, turning to Flack. 'You know what this means though, don't you?'

Flack nodded. 'It's time to bring my sister in.'

* * *

_A quick post - yes, it's a bribe. I am _that_ transparent!_

_What The Eyes Can't See has been nominated for Best Epic Story... and I'm hoping 216 chapters really is epic. And, if you like said epic, you'll go vote for me? Pretty please?_

_Okay, begging isn't pretty is it. How about another bribe - I'll post another chapter this week!! Will that work?_

_I'm also nominated for Best Author, Best Work-In-Progress, Best OC, Best Flack/OC Author, Best Flack/OC pairing, Best Flack/OC Story, Best Supernatural Story, Best Romance and finally, Best Crossover - seriously, thank you, guys! So please go vote in those categories too!_

_And vote in the other categories. There have been some really good stories and authors nominated this year - including the very stiff competition I have! There's a link on my profile page. Have some fun!_


	218. Who died and made you Elvis?

_Aphina - Don't worry, RL always gets me! Hell, I'm DJing and posting this at the same time. Glad you're back though!_

_sparkyCSI - At leas we got a couple of episodes of Sam... Can anyone say "Louie"? No, I have things whirring for Sam that even you don; tknow about!_

_Madison Bellows - It hit me when I realised that all our freshers next year would have been born in 1991. That means they missed the 80s! It was bad enough a couple of years ago when I played Baggy Trousers and got some stange looks! EEK!_

_ambercsiny - I'm sorry I haven't returned the chapter - I'm at work at the mo and can't give it the attention it needs, but I promise I will get it to you asap!_

_Bmangaka - I know that feeling! And there aren't enough days in a weekend either!_

_Nienna Tinehtele - lol, thank you, and I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, for once!_

_Trizzy - It's endless. Everytime I think I'm getting to the end, my muses kick in. Ah well! There are longer stories!_

_meadow567 - Well it took them five years to mention her to start with, so I've not done too badly. Besides, I realised (or rather, my sister pointed out) she's been seeing her boyfriend for nearly three years and I've never met him!_

_Vanessa.J - I have plans. Lol, I always have plans! And thank you!_

_Ok, still spoilers for Veritas, and still thanks for my wonderful beta! And, incase I haven't mentioned it recently - thanks to all you guys for still reading this!!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 217****: Who died and made you Elvis?**

Taylor and Flack were behind the two way mirror watching Danny interview Flack's sister. Flack hadn't said anything on the ride back, and short of requesting to Mac that Danny take the lead on the interview, hadn't said anything since. Taylor had slipped his hand into hers and he stood, clutching at it as Danny sat down opposite Sam and slid a picture at her.

'Is this the woman you leant your car to?' he asked her.

'Yeah, that's her,' Sam told him. 'That's Lauren. I can't believe she's dead.'

'Look, Sam,' said Danny. 'I need you to tell me everything. Everything you know about her.'

Sam shrugged. 'She was a regular at the bar. She loved to party. We had a lot of laughs together, but aside from that, I really don't know that much about her.'

Danny leant over, but kept his tone soft. 'If you don't know that much about her, why would you lend her your car?'

'I'm a generous person?' Sam offered. 'She said it was only going to be for a few days whilst her car was in the shop and in any case, I can walk to work. I tried to help somebody out okay?'

'Did she mention anything about coming into money? Moving? Buying any expensive items like that?'

'No.'

'Did she mention anything about having a husband or a boyfriend or anything like that?' Danny pressed.

Sam nodded. 'Yeah, she had a steady guy, but I never met him.'

Danny produced another photograph. This time of the guy that had been pulled out of the river. 'You ever see her with guy here?'

Sam looked at the photo and shook her head. 'No.'

'How about him?' This time it was a picture of Joe.

'No,' she said, giving it a good look.

The pair of them looked up at the mirror. Sam sighed and looked back at Danny. 'Do you think these guys killed Lauren?'

'That's what we're trying to find out,' Danny told her quietly.

Sam looked back up at the mirror. 'I really don't know anything else,' she said, probably realizing that her brother was on the other side of the glass.

Taylor glanced up at him. Flack actually looked tired. Tired and sad. 'Don?'

Flack tore his eyes away from the glass. 'Let's get home,' he told her. They stepped out of the room, and moments later, were joined by Danny and Sam. 'Come on,' he addressed Sam as he led her back into the pit.

Sam hurried after him. 'Hey, you're not going to tell Dad about this, are you?'

Flack turned back to her but said nothing.

'I don't want him to worry. You know how he gets. He will not stay off my ass if he hears about this.'

'Let me give you a ride home,' Flack said, ignoring the question as he clipped his gun to his belt. As he turned to leave, Sam grabbed his arm.

'Come on, Don, please? Just promise me you're not going to tell him.'

Flack glanced over at Taylor.

'Samantha, baby. How you been?'

Taylor and Flack looked over at the guy who was being led past them, wearing cuffs. 'Alright pal, that's enough,' Flack told him, looking like he was ready to take his head off, whilst keeping his voice calm.

'Alright, I was just being friendly,' the guy returned.

'Go be friendly over there,' Flack said, his voice rising slightly.

Sam rolled her eyes and strode past him to the door. 'You know, I can handle my own life,' she told him coldly.

Flack let out a dry laugh.

'What?' Sam demanded.

Flack snapped. 'What?' he repeated. 'Take a look at that guy. That guy's in your life? That's the kind of scum you hang out with? What's wrong with you? What are you thinking?'

'I'm thinking I don't need you passing judgment on me,' she shouted back at him, her accent becoming just as thick as his. 'I'm sorry that I embarrass you.'

Flack sighed, crossing his arms. 'That's not true,' he told her, his tone softening. 'I just-'

'You just wish I was a little more like you?' When she didn't get a response, she looked sad. 'I'll get my own ride home.'

Taylor watched her leave. 'Don?'

'Let's go home,' Flack said.

---

'We were supposed to go out and celebrate your birthday this evening,' Taylor admitted as she slipped between the sheets.

Flack stuck his head out of the ensuite, toothbrush poking out of his mouth. 'Ahn ow.'

'Come again?'

Flack's head disappeared as he spat the toothpaste out and rinsed his brush. He wandered back into the bedroom and got into bed. 'I know.'

Taylor gazed in amazement. 'How? I thought I had it underwraps.'

Flack laughed, switching the light out. 'Tay, I'm a detective.'

'That's not an answer; that's an excuse,' Taylor chided him. 'How did you know?'

'Danny,' he admitted.

Taylor scowled. 'Trust him to blow it.'

'I think you underestimate him,' Flack corrected her. 'When we were on the way back from Joe's house, he said something along the lines of, _well I guess we're not going out tonight._'

'Oh.' Taylor rolled onto her side, sticking her arm under her pillow as she gazed at Flack. 'How's the new partner?'

Flack shrugged, mirroring her. 'I couldn't tell you. I still haven't met her. I got caught up with the bank and she got assigned with Angell.'

'Does that mean you're not having a partner?'

Flack shook his head with a sigh. 'No, Gerrard is adamant I'm still having her.'

'Well you can just watch _how_ you have her,' Taylor informed him.

Flack laughed. 'You don't have anything to worry about, Tay. You're stuck with me.'

Taylor smiled. "Well, I'm not complaining. Did you know Stella's having a boy?' she asked, changing the subject.

'Really?' Flack grinned. 'Cute.'

Taylro inhaled deeply. 'How's Sam?'

'Still the same,' he muttered, staring into her eyes. 'I keep hoping she's gonna wake up and realise what she could be doing with her life, but I don't think she's ever going to change.'

'Are you going to tell your dad?'

Flack shook his head. 'He's just going to think I'm diverting some crap at her.'

'You mean because of me.' It was a statement, not a question.

'He's a stubborn bastard,' Flack agreed.

'Maybe we should invite your parents to dinner one night.'

Flack stared at her in disbelief.

'Seriously,' Taylor pressed. 'A normal meal, us, them... maybe we can win the around.'

Flack continued to stare at her. 'Maybe that might work.'

Taylor shrugged. 'There's no harm in asking. The worst they can do is say no.'

Flack nodded. 'Perhaps. But let's wait until we know more about Sam. I don't want that getting in the way.'

'Sure.' Taylor smiled. 'Don, I love you.'

'Love you, more,' he told her.

Taylor snuggled down into her pillow. And then she sat bolt upright in bed, swearing loudly.

'What?' Flack asked, having jumped violently.

'My article!' she exclaimed, ripping the covers back.

'What?' he asked, flicking the light on.

'The Witch has decided I report now. I have an article due in for morning edition,' she told him as she threw a robe and slippers on. 'I'll be in the living room.'

---

Taylor was awoken the following morning by her phone. She groaned, rolling over and picked the land line up.

'_Why aren't you answering your cell?_' Nancy's demanding voice asked her.

Taylor glanced blurry eyed at the clock. It was a little after eight. She had been up until an hour before her deadline putting the finishing touches to her article. 'Joe took it.'

'_Who is Joe?_'

'The guy who held the bank up,' she yawned, sitting up in bed.

'_I'll get a new one couriered over to you this morning. I need to be able to contact you at all times.'_

Taylor's eyes narrowed. 'What's the matter, Nancy?' she asked coldly.

'_Your article is brilliant,_' Nancy informed her. '_And I want the follow up piece for tomorrow.'_

'On what?' Taylor asked, confused. 'And I don't have another piece due in until Thursday.'

'_I'm not talking about your column, Taylor. You're reporting the crime now, and stories like this can't wait until Thursday. The public wants to know what happens as it happens. And put it this way, at least now you're _reporting_ the crime, you don't have to work at your desk all day.'_

So there was _one_ positive. 'But Nancy, I don't even know where to begin.'

'_You can start at the crime lab. And tomorrow, I want you at Hallworth Studios in Greenwich. It's time we launched a campaign to let people know about the changes._' She hung up before Taylor could object.

'I'm really beginning to hate that woman,' Taylor mumbled, as she hung up. She got out of bed and pulled her robe around her, heading downstairs. Her head was in the fridge when Marty appeared.

'Congratulations.'

Taylor pulled the orange juice out and shut the door. 'What are you on about?' she asked as she poured herself a glass.

Marty threw a copy of the _Daily_ on the counter. Her article was the headline piece.

Taylor put the glass back on the counter next to it, the liquid sloshing over the side as she snatched it up and read it, mouth open. 'Oh my God! I made the front page!' she cried excitedly.

'Ergo, congratulations,' Marty beamed me. 'You did good, kid.'

The _kid_ comment went unnoticed as Taylor reread her story. Suddenly, there was another up side to what Nancy was demanding of her.

---

Taylor was heading to the crime lab when she bumped into Stella, or, more accurately, Stella's bump. 'Sorry,' she apologized.

'It's alright,' Stella told her. 'I forget how much it sticks out,' she told her, rolling her eyes. 'I can't wait for him to be out and in the world now.'

'You off to home?' Taylor asked her.

Stella shook her head. 'Back to the bank. I have a feeling the money never actually left it.'

Taylor frowned. 'Stell, shouldn't you be taking it easy.'

'Exactly,' Stella told her. 'Which is why I'm taking it easy at the bank.'

'Are you sure that's a good idea?'

'What's the worst that could happen?' Stella asked. Seeing Taylor's worried expression, she sighed. 'Would you feel better if you came with me?'

'I'd feel better if you didn't go at all,' Taylor admitted.

Stella rolled her eyes. 'You sound like Mac. And as I explained to him, the doctor said I was alright for another two weeks before I had to be confined to the lab, and I'll be damned if I start that earlier than I have to. I'll be perfectly fine at the bank.'

'Fine. I'm coming with you,' Taylor told her.

Stella laughed. 'Come on then, worry wart.'

It was a short ride, the majority of it spent talking about the baby.

'Have you heard from Keanu?' Taylor asked.

Stella shook her head. 'No, he still doesn't want to be a part of the baby's life. His loss. Besides,' she added, seeing Taylor's face. 'At least this way I get full choice when it comes to naming him.'

'You got any ideas?'

Stella nodded. 'Plenty. I just can't seem to settle on one. I think I'll know when I see him. There's no point deciding on Nikolas when he looks like an Andreas.'

'You're thinking of Greek names?'

Stella shrugged. 'I don't know,' she admitted. 'But I do like the idea of going back to my roots.'

They were still discussing baby names when they arrived at the bank, and only stopped when Stella stepped behind the counter. She pulled open a drawer and a hundred dollar bill dropped out. 'He was here,' she muttered.

'Huh?' Taylor asked. She had drifted off as they stood there, the previous morning suddenly becoming alive again – she could even hear Joe's voice.

'NYPD! Freeze!' Stella yelled and drew her gun.

Taylor looked up at where Stella was aiming, her eyes widening as she spotted Joe.

As he took off, so did Stella. Taylor watched in surprise, unable to believe a pregnant woman could run so fast. And then it hit her that she was allowing a pregnant woman to run after an armed suspect. 'Stella!' she yelled, taking off after her.

'Call for back up,' Stella shouted back to her as Taylor ran past the officer Joe had knocked out.

Taylor dropped to the floor, checking for the officer's pulse as she grabbed the radio. 'Uh, Officer down,' she cried into it. 'Detective Bonasera is in pursuit of the suspect. And she's pregnant,' Taylor added, before letting the person on the other end know where they were. The voice continued to bombard her with questions, but Taylor ignored her, dropping the radio to the ground and following the direction Stella had gone.

She burst onto the roof to find Joe hanging on to a black bag over the side of the building. Taylor scanned the roof for Stella – she could hear her, but she couldn't see her. And then the penny dropped. 'Stella!' she yelled, just as Joe yanked the bag back and took off.

Taylor sprinted over, flinging herself to the ground to wrap her arm around Stella's, who was clutching to the metal grating. Between the two of them, Taylor hauled Stella back over the side. She sat back, panting as Stella got to her feet and scanned the roof. 'Did you see which way he went?' she asked her.

Taylor's eyes widened in disbelief. 'Stella!'

---

'I don't care, Stella,' Mac told the curly haired detective firmly. 'You're on lab duty until you take your maternity leave.'

'Mac, it wasn't that bad,' Stella objected.

'Stella, you were chasing after an armed suspect, one who is wanted for murder, no less. One who thought he had killed me. You're on lab duty, or you take early maternity leave.'

'Fine,' Stella accepted as she, Mac and Taylor close behind, joined Lindsay, Danny and Hawkes in one of the labs. 'What have we got?' she asked them.

'We checked the passports you found,' Lindsay explained. All but one were counterfeit. We traced it back to an Ethan Scott and ran the social security number. Through tax records, we found his wife and daughter, Alison and Emma Scott. He's been living with them in Manhattan for the past eight years.'

'Have you got an address?' Mac asked

'Yeah,' Hawkes replied. 'Flack canvassed it and the area. It looks like they cleared out, and Emma wasn't in school today.'

'They're on the run,' Mac frowned.

'We've notified the Port Authority and we've got all bridges and tunnels covered too,' Danny said.

'Can we get Ethan's photo in the late edition of the papers?' Mac asked Taylor.

'I can't see that being a problem,' Taylor agreed.

'What about the money?' Mac asked.

'I put an alert on the serial numbers,' said Danny. 'I got some calls. The money was used to purchase tickets at Grand Central Station, Washington Bus terminal, and the Staten Island Ferry,' Danny informed them. 'All afternoon departures. The cash was also used to rent a car from three different agencies.'

'He's trying to confuse us by using the stolen cash to create decoys,' said Mac.

'Well if that's the case, maybe he's not leaving town at all,' Lindsay suggested. 'He just wants us to think he is.'

'Or he already jumped a cab out of town,' Adam spoke up as he joined them. 'I got a hit on a credit card purchase by his wife. She bought three train tickets to Toronto, Canada. Purchase and departure point, Poughkeepsie, New York. The train leaves in two hours.'

'Three tickets? He's meeting them there,' said Stella.

'I'll get the photo to local PD and get some officers on the trains,' Hawkes suggested.

'No,' said Mac, firmly. 'No, wait. Joe thinks this is a game, fine. We'll keep it going, but this time, we're going to play by my rules. We're going to get Alison.'

'I'll do that,' Stella said. 'Or Lindsay can,' she corrected herself when she saw Mac's expression. 'I will stay here with Taylor.'

Taylor nodded. 'I'll get that picture in the paper.'

---

The picture, and the article made the evening edition – Nancy was more than happy for the paper to have an exclusive. Unfortunately, and Taylor didn't tell Nancy, but Joe, aka Ethan, was arrested only minutes after the edition hit the streets.

She headed to the pit to locate Flack, ready to head home. He was deep in conversation with a pretty blonde wearing a very cute pants suit.

'Taylor,' Flack waved her over. 'This is my new partner, Grace Perry.'

'Pleased to meet you,' Taylor said.

'Likewise,' Grace returned, although her eyes never left Flack.

'Are you ready to go?' Taylor asked Flack with a frown. 'Or have you got to finish up here?'

'No, I'm good,' Flack smiled, draping his arm over her shoulder.

'Good,' Taylor told him. 'Because I never gave you your birthday present,' she told him as she led him to the car.

---

Taylor climbed out of the bath, wrapping a towel around her. She had left Flack playing with his birthday present with Marty – a PS3 and NHL '09 – and headed upstairs to have a bath. She padded into the bedroom and was about to pull a clean set of pajamas out of her drawers when Flack walked in. Taylor quickly pulled the towel tighter around her and grabbed the clothing before dashing back into the bathroom, ignoring the confused look on Flack's face.

When she came out for the second time, dressed, Flack was sat on the bed waiting for her. She smiled uncomfortably at him.

'You alright?' he asked her.

Taylor nodded and headed over to her dresser to dry her hair.

Flack pursed his lips and then got to his feet, walking over behind Taylor. He leant over, swept her hair away and then began nibbling her neck.

'Don,' Taylor moaned. 'How am I supposed to dry my hair with you distracting me?'

'Don't dry it,' he offered between kisses.

'Don,' Taylor shook her head and leant forward. 'I should dry this.'

Flack pulled the hair brush out of her hands, placed it on the dresser and then, sinking to his knees, turned her around so that she was facing him.

'I need to dry-'

He cut her off with a kiss.

Taylor started to kiss him back until he started to unbutton her top. Taylor leapt to her feet, clutching the two halves of fabric together and ran out into the bathroom. She was pouring herself a glass of water when Flack joined her.

'This isn't about your hair, is it?'

'I'm just not feeling well,' she choked out.

'Taylor,' Flack started softly, turning her to face him. 'You won't get changed in front of me, and you won't sleep with me. I'm not stupid, Taylor. I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong.'

'Wrong about what?' she asked him.

'Wrong if you thing I care that you have a scar.'

Taylor wrapped her arms around herself, 'I don't think that,' she muttered.

Flack licked his lips then moved Taylor's arms to her side. Slowly, he began unbuttoning her shirt. He traced his fingers gently over her two scars and felt her inhale sharply. He switched his attention to her face. She was looking away, tears lining her eyes. 'Taylor,' he said gently, 'you're still the most beautiful woman in the world to me.'

'Really?' she asked him, finally looking at him.

'You always have been,' he promised her. He sighed. 'I just don't understand why you're so ashamed of them. You don't mind mine.'

Taylor looked at him as if he was asking one of the most ridiculous questions she'd ever heard. 'You got your scars from a terrorist. You saved someone's life to get them. They're a badge of honor. Mine are just… a reminder of how stupid I was.'

'Baby,' he said softly. 'I don't want you to feel ashamed of those scars, especially not around me.' Flack took a step back. 'Look, you get changed for bed. I'm going to tell Marty to have fun with the game and I'll be up in a minute.'

Taylor nodded. 'I'm sorry.'

Flack shook his head. 'You don't have to apologize, Tay. I love you. And I still want to marry you.'

Taylor sighed and looked at the floor, 'Don, I-'

'Get changed,' Flack interrupted her, kissing her forehead. 'I'm going to say night to Marty.'

Taylor watched him leave, unperturbed by the lack of affirmative response she was giving him, and then turned her attention back out of the window. She loved him. She really did. But she just couldn't make herself say "yes".

Despite the fact she was pretending to be asleep when he came in a short while later, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. 'I love you so much,' he whispered, leaving Taylor biting her lip, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she tried to fight back the tears.

* * *

**Have you voted? I think there's only a couple of hours left before the polls close. So head to the forum and show your favorite writers just how much you love them!**


	219. Who's got a match? I've got the petrol

_Madison Bellows - Thank you! And I'm glad i've still got it after all these chapters - and there will be more with Flack's partner!_

_Trizzy - Oh, hell no. They are getting married. Just not yet. Although I have just read one of those 'true stories' where a couple remained engaged for thirty years..._

_sparkyCSI - lol, I still don't remember what I added, but at least whatever it was worked!_

_ambercsiny - lol, I may have gotten a little carried away with that, but I was going for Stella strong's convictions for catching the bad guy (:s)_

_ninjagurl512 - Hey! Thank you, and welcome! i'm glad you stuck it out!! I'll try not to keep the updates too far apart for you_

_miss wizard of oz - Glad you're back and caught up - you have been missed. I thought it was the natural progression, so hopefully it will bring something different to the table_

_Vanessa.J - lol, you're a good judge of character! And she certainly would have people after her - I think that some of them might not even be in the show!_

_demolished-soul - That's cool. You can't have too much left now, right? I hope they're going alright for you. There are a few 'key' episodes I have yet to include, but they're coming_

_meadow567 - She does need a slap. Maybe I do to - get them straight again! Are you playing match-maker already?_

_Hailey Lebeau - there had to be something good come out of working for Nancy, lol!_

_righto, thanks to my awesome beta, and warnings for spoilers. What episode was it? Oh, yeah, Like Murder For Water: 4x17_

**

* * *

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 218: Who's got a match? I've got the petrol to set it too!**

'I can't believe you haven't set a date,' Maddy exclaimed as she watched Taylor pull on her shoes a couple of days later.

'How many times do we have to have this conversation, Maddy?' Taylor sighed. 'Like I told Don, I love him, and I want to be with him, but I can't marry him. Not until I'm myself again. I want to be the person he fell in love with, and if I can't be that person, then I want to make sure he loves the person I've become.'

Maddy pulled a face. 'What? Neurotic?'

Taylor shrugged. 'If that's what I am, then yes.'

Maddy rolled her eyes. 'Let's change that to _insane_.' She folded her arms and gazed at Taylor. 'Tay, as your best friend, I feel I can tell you this: if you don't get your act together, you're going to lose him.'

Taylor glanced up at the ghost and sighed. 'I know. I _do_,' she said, seeing Maddy's disbelieving look. 'And I don't know when I became so insecure, but I'm working on it, Mads.'

'Are you ready?' Flack asked, appearing in the doorway. 'Are we going to have to wait until later?' he asked, spotting Maddy.

Taylor shook her head. 'I am not waiting another day to get my car,' she told him. 'Maddy just stopped by to say hi. She's going now,' she added, giving Maddy a pointed stare.

'Aw, come on!' Maddy objected. 'Aiden's busy with Erik.'

'And I'm busy getting a new car. Go bug Hawkes.'

'Hawkes?' asked Flack, an eyebrow raised in amusement as Maddy disappeared.

Taylor nodded. 'She has the unhealthiest crush on him. And she can't stand the fact he's seeing Izzie, nor that Izzie looks like she does.'

'That's cute,' Flack grinned.

'That's pathetic,' Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Come on, I want my baby.'

---

'You bought _that_?' Marty asked her, his jaw hanging open as he stared at her car.

It was a pre-owned 2007 Shelby Mustang GT5000 in blue, with two fat white racing stripes over the hood, roof and trunk.

'I always wanted a Mustang,' Taylor shrugged. 'And this one called to me.'

'I thought you would have gone for another classic like the GTO.'

Taylor shook her head. 'I only had it for a favor to Chris. I was planning on getting a Mustang then anyway. And I swear to God, if someone tries to drive this into the Hudson, they'd best still be in the car when they pull it out. Otherwise, they're going to be sorry.'

'Wow, someone's bitter,' Marty mumbled.

Taylor turned on him. 'GTO – Hudson. GTO – Hudson – Louie in the trunk,' she snarled at him. 'Explain how I'm _not_ supposed to be bitter.'

Marty held his hands up. 'Alright. Point taken.'

'It's best to let it be,' Flack muttered at him. 'I tried to convince her to buy a hybrid Fusion.'

'Would you have a Fusion?' Taylor asked him.

'I have a Tahoe,' he said, pointing at the large black vehicle.

'That's not what I asked,' Taylor pointed out.

'No, I wouldn't have a Fusion,' Flack rolled his eyes. 'I like my trucks, I'd have had Highlander. Or the CSI Avalanches are quite nice. So no, I wouldn't have had a Fusion, but I wouldn't have had a Ford, nor a Mustang.'

'And that's why this is my baby and not yours,' Taylor said, patting the blue car.

'You normally stroke random cars?' Lindsay asked her getting out of her own car.

'This isn't a random car,' Taylor informed her. 'This is my baby.'

Lindsay cocked her head. 'Wow,' she mouthed.

Taylor turned to Flack and Marty. 'Are you two disappearing about now?'

'Anxious to get rid of us?' Flack teased.

'Look, if you want to come in and discuss baby showers, then by all means, come join us,' Taylor offered.

Flack pulled a face. 'Yeah, fine, we're going.' He looked expectantly at Taylor.

Taylor blinked. 'After just informing me that you'd never have bought a Mustang, you think I'm gonna let you drive this? Dream on!'

Marty laughed. 'Come on, your Tahoe's fine,' he said patting him on the back.

'They seem to be getting on better,' Lindsay laughed as they headed inside.

Taylor nodded. 'They spent the last few days bonding over a video game.'

'Yeah, about that,' Lindsay rolled her eyes. 'Danny wants one now. It doesn't matter that he has a Wii and an Xbox.'

Taylor laughed. 'At least you know what to get him for your wedding gift.'

Lindsay arched and eyebrow. 'You think I'm gonna buy him a games console? I have better uses for his fingers.

'I'm sure you do.'

---

They finished their plans for Stella's surprise baby shower and Lindsay had gotten called away to a scene, leaving Taylor to get some housework done. She was in the middle of a giant pile of laundry when Flack and Marty returned home, much later that evening

'You're in?' Flack asked in surprise.

'I never left,' Taylor shrugged.

'Then where's your car?'

Taylor could feel the blood drain from her face. 'You're kidding, aren't you?' she leapt to her feet and dashed outside into the rain. He hadn't been joking. Her Mustang was nowhere in sight. 'Please tell me you're playing a prank,' she asked as she stared across the street to where her car should have been.

Behind her, Flack was already on the phone reporting the car as stolen.

'I've had that a day,' she cried, turning to Marty. 'And they've taken your Porsche as well!' she realized.

'I sold it.'

'My Mustang?' Taylor asked in alarm.

Marty shook his head. 'My Porsche. It went a couple of weeks ago – haven't you noticed?'

Taylor thought about it. She hadn't. 'No. Why did you sell it?'

Marty shrugged. 'I couldn't afford it. The ER doesn't pay nearly as well as the ME's office.' He pointed at a beat up Taurus. 'That's mine.'

'Oh,' Taylor frowned. She turned to Flack. 'Don, my car's been stolen,' she wailed.

'Grace is on her way over with Mac,' he told her, leading her back inside. 'When did Lindsay leave?'

'A couple of hours ago?' she shrugged.

'Well it's obviously been stolen in the past two hours, because Lindsay would have noticed if it wasn't there. That's good,' he added. 'They can't have gotten that far.'

'I swear to God,' Taylor growled. 'When I get my hands on the little punk who stole this, I'm going to get my car and run it over him. And then I'm going to stick it in reverse and do it again.'

'Or, rather, you're going to let Mac and Grace hand it over to the courts.'

'What? So he can get a fine and a suspended sentence? I think not,' she grumbled, allowing Flack to push her onto the couch.

Mac arrived a half hour later, accompanied by Flack's partner. Taylor watched from the window as Mac processed the scene and Grace knocked on the surrounding doors. They were out there for ages, but as Mac pointed out, there were few witnesses, and the rain had washed away what evidence there was.

Taylor growled and headed upstairs.

---

The following morning, she was in a worse mood, especially when she spotted Maddy and another ghost at the bottom of her bed. She still saw the ghosts everywhere, but short of taking an impromptu trip upstate to reunite Robin with his father, the ghost she saw on the streets didn't speak to her, unless she got their attention by staring at them. So a murder victim at the bottom of her bed came as a bit of a shock.

The ghost was dripping water everywhere, though getting nothing wet. There were strands of seaweed dangling off her, but more importantly, it looked like something had taken a couple of bites out of her and she was missing her right hand.

Taylor's stomach churned. She scrambled out of bed and ran to the bathroom, only just getting her head down the bowl in time.

'Taylor?' Flack appeared in the doorway, looking concerned. 'Who has Maddy brought you?' he squatted down next to her and brushed her hair out of her face.

'I don't know,' Taylor admitted. 'But I'd hazard a guess that Jaws got to her.'

Flack looked to the spot next to Maddy, and although he couldn't see the ghost, sighed. 'I'd best get dressed then. I'm at work anyway.'

'You have to stop him because he's not going to be able to stop himself,' the ghost told her.

---

'You have got to be kidding me!' Taylor cried.

Her weekend was getting progressively worse.

They were in Flack's truck, heading to the precinct, heading down Broadway, stuck in traffic. And on one of the billboards was a giant picture of Taylor. The picture was slightly more revealing than the last one had been. But that wasn't Taylor's issue. It was the caption that went with it. _Taylor Turner: Reporting the Crime with an Insider Advantage._ On the other side of the poster, with a much smaller picture, was Reed, _Bringing you the news online, as it happens._

'Mac is going to kill me,' she groaned.

'Yeah, probably,' Flack agreed.

'Don!' she objected. 'That's not helping in the slightest.'

He laughed, but reached for his phone that had started ringing. 'Flack… Yeah, I'm on my way.' He turned to Taylor. 'We found your body.'

It had washed up on the beach not far from Coney Island and had been discovered by a couple who had been out for a little fun in the early morning surf. Taylor shivered. It was the end of March and they wanted to go frolicking in the sea? She followed Flack down the beach to the body, joining Mac who had also just arrived.

'Mac,' Taylor called.

He looked up and walked over. 'We still haven't found your car,' he told her.

Taylor shook her head. 'No, it's not about that,' she told him. 'It's the latest publicity from the _Daily_. I swear I had nothing to do with the caption, and I certainly wouldn't consider my relation with Flack, or any of you CSIs, as insider information.'

Mac stopped and turned to face her. 'Taylor, I don't believe in the ghosts, but I do believe that I can trust you to keep certain information out of the headlines. You've had ample opportunity to do so in the past and you haven't. Just don't let me down.'

Taylor stared at him then hurriedly nodded. 'I won't Mac.'

Flack walked back up the sand to join them. 'So, you remember that shark that washed up on Rockaway last year? Well this one had a little company with him.'

'Is there any ID on the victim?' Mac asked him.

'Not yet,' Flack replied. 'I've got my guys canvassing the locals and I've put a call into missing persons.'

'Who found him?' asked Hawkes, who was already at the body.

'The Abercrombie Twins over there,' he pointed at a couple sat on some rocks.

Hawkes dropped down next to the body. 'Looks like her hand was the appetizer,' he held it up for them to see.

Taylor looked away. She'd already seen that one that morning and didn't want to look at it any more than was completely necessary.

Mac looked over at the shark. 'Shark attack victim. Looks like a job for Chief Brody, not my forensics team.'

Flack nodded. 'That's what I thought, but Taylor had a visitor this morning.'

Mac sighed. 'I was just telling Taylor I still haven't changed my opinions on ghosts, Flack.'

Flack shrugged. 'Nope, didn't expect you had, and I don't expect you will. Which is why you should have a look at her neck.' He glanced down at Hawkes, who had moved up to the top section of the victim's body. 'Take a real good look, Doc.'

'Strangulation marks, peticial hemorrhaging in the eyes.'

Flack grinned. 'So, what kind of shark strangles his meal before he takes a bite?'

Mac nodded. 'Alright, you have my attention.' He turned to Taylor. 'I still don't believe in ghosts.'

Taylor sighed. 'I know.'

She stood back and watched whilst the team set to work. Flack moved over to the crowds to help with the ID, leaving Taylor to watch Hawkes and Mac.

'Taylor, if you're going to insist on staying, you're going to have to step back behind the tape,' Mac told her. 'I still haven't changed my mind on your appearances at crime scenes. We have procedure to follow.'

Taylor nodded and ducked behind the tape, watching Hawkes photograph the body whilst Mac focused on the shark. After a while, Hawkes wandered over. 'You see her ghost?'

Taylor nodded.

'Alright, this is what I know. A severed femoral artery, major tissue damage and massive blood loss; all post mortem injuries.'

'Am I the only one who thinks it's weird that a shark would attack someone and then wash up on the beach a few mere feet away?'

Hawkes nodded. 'It's one of many things that don't make sense. There's very little evidence consistant with her being a floater.'

'Meaning she was strangled in the water?'

'More like she was strangled and tossed to the shark while she was still warm.'

Taylor frowned, seemingly staring into space, but was actually staring at the ghost of the victim.

'Taylor?'

Taylor looked at Hawkes, brushing the hair that the wind was making dance over her eyes, to one side. 'I think I've seen her before. But I don't know where.'

'You know her?' Hawkes asked.

'Yes,' Taylor muttered slowly. 'But I don't know where from.' She sighed and glanced over at Mac. 'Who's that?'

Hawkes shrugged. 'I've never seen her before.'

'Rust colored spots.'

The wind was blowing the conversation to them.

'Sand Tiger shark. I went on a cage dive in the Bahamas and saw one up close, very much alive,' the woman who had joined Mac was explaining. She looked to be in her forties, with hair a very similar color to the rust spots she was referring to on the shark.

'What are you doing here, Quinn?' Mac asked, rising to his feet. 'Jersey Crime Lab too boring for you?'

'I'm still a criminalist there,' Quinn told him. 'But every other month I inspect labs for the forensics board. It's been five years since yours has been reaccredited.'

'Our review isn't scheduled for another couple of weeks.'

'Everything got moved up,' Quinn explained. 'It was felt, after the past couple of months in particular, that your procedures and protocols should be checked.'

'It was felt by whom?' Mac asked her.

Quinn gave him a patient smile. 'There was a report filed by an SSA Reid a few months back. We've been keeping an eye on things, but there's now the suspicion that someone is leaking information to the press. This means, for the next couple of days I'll be monitoring protocol and evaluating your team's techniques. Then I'll file a report. Don't worry Mac. I'll stay out of the way. I know you. I know you do things by the book. I'm just going to quietly observe.'

Mac laughed.

'What's so funny?'

'I've never known you do anything quietly.'

Taylor looked at Hawkes. 'Crap,' she muttered. 'This is going to be interesting.'

* * *

**THE CSI:NY FANFICTION AWARDS, 2009**

**I don't think there are any words that can describe how I feel right now. I am completely honoured and humbled. There has been some incredible competition this year, and I never expected the results. It still hasn't registered as to how much you guys like this story, and Taylor! So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. And if you like this story so much, I'll keep going with it. So, this story is for all of you that voted. Thank you!!!**


	220. Yeah I wanna be runnin' When the sand

_Vanessa.J - no, I'm gonna have Quinn and Taylor behave so there shouldn't be problems there - and thank you!_

_Madison Bellows - Thank you! She's anxious to keep on Mac's happy side, lol, unlike Reed!_

_sparkyCSI - lol, FF isn't healthy to start with (:P) If the muses play nice, we may well see more!_

_Trizzy - lol, First, I won't wait that long, I promise! Second, excellent point, and third - another good point. She should be a pedestrian! BTW, did you manage to save the plant in time?_

_ambercsiny - it was ages ago, wasn't it?! And it was a good idea, so I will be using it!_

_meadow567 - here ya go!_

_ninjagurl512 - I'm glad I could make you smile - did you manage to reread the whole thing?!_

_There are spoilers from 4x17; Like Water For Murder, and there are thanks to my awesome beta!_

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What The Eyes Can't See

**Chapter 219: Yeah I wanna be runnin' When the sand runs out**

Taylor sat outside the crime lab, sipping on a bottle of water. She desperately wanted to be in the lab, trying to make sense of the evidence, and put it into context with what she could see from the victim, but the Quinn woman was around. Mac had said he trusted her and she would be damned if she was going to betray that rust.

She took another gulp of the water and stared down at the cracks in the pavement. A pair of Jimmy Choos appeared in front of her. 'What are you doing over here?' Peyton asked her.

Taylor looked up, holding her hand in front of her eyes to block the sun so that she could see the English woman. Peyton moved to the side and sat down beside her. 'Thinking,' she admitted. 'And trying to avoid Quinn Shelby.'

'Ditto,' Peyton admitted.

'Why are you avoiding her?' Taylor asked her.

'Because I want to punch her,' Peyton muttered. 'I'm trying to keep my jealousy under control, because I know I'm overreacting at how friendly the two are,' she looked hopefully at Taylor.

'Sorry, but I haven't really seen them together,' Taylor told her. 'I really have been sitting out here for a while. I haven't seen them together. But it's Mac.'

Peyton sighed and nodded. 'Why are you avoiding her?'

Taylor used her thumb to point over her shoulder, shifting to the left, away from Peyton.

Peyton half turned, catching sight of the publicity of Taylor and Reed on the bench behind them. 'Ah,' was all she muttered.

'I don't want to get Mac or the lab in any more trouble. Mac hates me enough as it is.'

Peyton gave her a puzzled look. 'Mac doesn't hate you, Taylor. He likes you. You know he reads your column, right?'

'Read,' Taylor muttered the past tense. And then she realized what Peyton said. 'He does?' she frowned. 'He's probably checking I'm not giving away insider secrets.'

'You know, I can't say you're often the topic of conversation, but I can tell you, he's proud of you. You've never once published something you shouldn't, and for whatever reason you're always in the crime lab, he lets you stay there. He thinks you've got a knack for forensics.'

Taylor flushed. Admittedly, and Mac _wasn't_ willing to admit it, the so called knack was for listening to clues from the other side. _But_, there was a compliment in there. She glanced up and stared thoughtfully at the crime lab as Maddy, the shark victim, and a third ghost materialized in front of her. She blinked, hiding her shock from Peyton. 'I have to go,' she apologized abruptly.

She rose to her feet, walking quickly away from the English ME. Waiting until she was a safe distance away, she leant back against the wall and pulled out the brand new iPhone Nancy had supplied her with. She slipped it against her ear and looked over at the three ghosts.

The new ghost, whilst not missing any limbs, was still drenched. Taylor inhaled deeply. 'When she said he wouldn't stop, she meant her killer's actually a serial killer?' she asked Maddy softly.

Maddy looked at the two ghosts with her and nodded gently. 'Yeah,' she admitted.

'You know that there's a woman in the labs checking on their procedures, don't you?' she asked her.

'And?'

Taylor shrugged. 'I'm just saying, it's not going to be easy.' She was so busy pretending to talk into the phone, she jumped when it actually started ringing. 'Hello?'

'_I know I'm going to regret asking this, but where are you?'_

'Standing outside the precinct, talking to the new ghost,' Taylor informed Flack. 'Why?'

'_A new ghost?'_

Taylor stared sadly at the new ghost and nodded. 'I think you might be looking for a serial killer.'

'_I haven't had anything come through to me about a new body._'

'Yeah, well there is one. And I'm pretty certain she's a victim of the same person.'

'What does she look like?' Flack asked, appearing next to her and making her jump again.

'Do _not_ do that!' Taylor yelped, slapping his arm.

'What does she look like?' Flack repeated, grinning at her.

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Wet,' she snapped.

---

It didn't take long for dispatch to inform Flack that another body had washed up on the shore, only a mile away from where the first had appeared. He and Taylor headed over to the location and she was loitering around the tape, awaiting the return of the ghosts when Mac appeared.

'Taylor?' he questioned.

Taylor just shrugged at him.

'Just keep it out of the papers until we've informed the family,' he sighed.

Almost changing her mind at the last minute, Taylor ducked him under the tape and hurried after him to where Flack and Grace were discussing their findings.

'Hey Mac,' Flack greeted him. 'This is my new partner, Grace Perry.'

'Hi,' Grace smiled at him, extending her hand.

'Grace, Mac Taylor.'

'I've heard a lot about you and your crime lab,' Grace told him.

Mac nodded and then looked down at the body. 'What have we got?'

'Folks were on the beach, minding their own business when the body rolled in with the tide,' Flack told him.

Grace looked down the beach. 'We're near where the last one was found, right?' she asked, looking back at Flack.

Flack nodded. 'It's less than a mile away.'

Mac crouched down by the body, still wrapped in the blue and yellow tarpaulin. 'Tarp looks familiar, but no lavidity. Petichial hemorrhaging in her eyes.' He turned to Grace. 'What do you see?'

Grace crouched down next to him and gave the body a closer look. 'There's no strangulation marks, so if she suffocated, the killer didn't use anything physical.'

Mac nodded and reached for the victim's closest hand. 'Same abrasions on her hands.'

'So it's the same MO?' Taylor asked.

Mac frowned. 'Possibly.'

Flack bent down and examined the victim's pockets. 'I've found a couple business cards in here that look like her. Louise Perry,' he gave Grace a quick look. 'No relation?'

Grace quickly shook her head.

'She's a real estate agent,' he continued.

Taylor's eyes widened. 'That's it. That's why the first ghost was so familiar looking.'

Grace slowly looked up at her. 'Ghost?'

Taylor froze. 'Ghost?'

Grace nodded. 'You said ghost,' she confirmed.

Taylor quickly pulled a face. 'I don't know where that came from,' she told her, then earning a look off Mac. He, however, didn't say anything. 'I meant body.'

'Why does she look familiar?' Mac asked her.

Taylor glanced over at the ghosts that had appeared, and realized she was right with her memory. 'When my apartment burnt down and we decided to look for somewhere together, we spent hours looking around apartments,' Taylor told them. 'She showed us around quite a few places around here, which were all completely out of our price range.' She frowned. 'Actually, I think she showed _me_ around a few places. Don was working?' she asked him.

Flack nodded. 'I don't recognize her, so quite possibly.'

Mac looked up at Taylor. 'Are you sure?'

Taylor nodded. 'I'm positive.'

Mac returned his attention to the dead woman. 'Two women dead, both with the same MOs, both within a mile of each other, both with the same job.'

'Maybe we're looking at a disgruntled client,' Grace offered. 'Someone who's upset about a sale or a loss of his property?'

'Two bodies within twenty-four hours doesn't play like a coincidence,' said Flack.

'No, it doesn't,' Mac agreed as Flack's phone rang.

He answered it quickly and then returned to the group. 'I have some good news,' he told them. 'But it's got nothing to do with the case.' He looked over at Taylor. 'Patrol found your car.'

Taylor's eyes lit up before quickly dissolving behind a frown. 'Where?'

'Harlem,' Flack responded. 'But it's still in one piece, and it sounds like it's still drivable.'

Taylor's eyes narrowed further. 'And the guy who stole it?'

'Is being treated at Lady of Hope for a concussion and a broken arm, then he's going to be taken to the precinct for me to talk to.' Flack turned to Mac and Grace. 'Can you to handle this?'

Mac nodded. He glanced over at Taylor. 'Go easy on him.'

'Oh, I'll go easy,' Taylor muttered as she headed up the sand.

---

The impound yard of the precinct in Harlem was a few blocks from the hospital and Taylor insisted that they stop there first. To Flack, the damage was minimal. The paint had been scraped off the front, far side panel, and the headlight on the same side was smashed.

To Taylor, it was worse. Her car had a huge gouge running down the side of it, and the smashed in driver's window, the wires handing out under the steering column, was just the final insult. She glowered at the damage. 'That kid is lucky he's already in a hospital,' she growled.

'Taylor, you are going to leave this to me,' Flack told him.

Taylor stared at the damage and finally closed her eyes. She pulled her phone out and dialed her brother's number. 'Paws, the car turned up.'

'_How bad is it?_' her brother asked her.

'It's a mess,' she told him.

There was a pause. '_If you can get it to the garage I'll get it taken care of with a discount,'_ he offered, referring to the place he was working. '_If you'll take Cordelia tonight.'_

Taylor frowned. 'Of course she can stay, but why?'

'_I've got a date,'_ Chris informed her.

Taylor glanced at her watch. 'You want me to get her from school?'

'_Sure. I'll let the school know.'_

---

'Yo! Taylor!'

Taylor turned, spotting Reed heading towards her. 'What's up, Reed?'

'Are you here for some information? What do you know about the murder?'

Taylor blinked at him. 'Huh? No. I'm here because some punk-ass kid stole my car and I'm going to go chew him a new one. And then I'm going to run him over with said car.'

This time it was Reed's turn to blink. 'That's… vicious.'

Taylor shook her head. 'What are _you_ doing here?'

Reed held up his notebook. 'Nancy sent me. She thinks that Mac will share certain info with me, that's different to the info he shares with you.'

'Yeah, I don't know anything,' Taylor lied. 'And I have to catch Don up.' Taylor hurried into the building to catch Flack up. She spotted him, a head above just about everyone else, very easily. With her mouth set in a thin line, she joined his side, ready to chew the youth who had stolen her car, a new one. But she stopped when she spotted him.

He was a she. A very pretty, seemingly innocent looking, girl, no older than fourteen or fifteen. Long blonde hair, scraped back into a messy ponytail, bright blue eyes hidden behind too much mascara and eyeliner for a teenager glaring up at Flack, her arms tightly folded under her breasts.

Taylor frowned and looked around. Surely there had been some kind of mistake. The girl looked like one of the kids of _Gossip Girl_. Okay, that wasn't entirely correct. She was pretty enough to be one, but her clothes were more Wal-Mart than Catherine Walker. And they were torn and dirty.

'How old are you?' she blurted out.

The girl looked up at her and scowled.

'Alright,' Flack said, dipping his hand under the girl's elbow to pull her to her feet. 'Let's get you in an interview room.'

'You can't interview me without my parents present,' the girl snapped at him.

'Or an appropriate adult, and as you're refusing to cooperate, we've got Social Services in.'

The girl glowered at him for a full ten seconds before Flack exhaled in impatience, put his hands on her shoulders, turned her, and ushered her to an interview room. Inside, he pulled a chair out, and pushed her down on it.

'So, have you got a name then,' Flack asked her.

'Screw you,' the girl muttered at him.

'Well your parents had an interesting sense of humor,' Flack told her, dryly.

The girl just rolled her eyes.

'Riley James!'

The girl rolled her eyes as a harassed woman appeared in the doorway; short, several pounds overweight and frizzy grey hair escaping a bun which had probably never really been under control. 'Can't you stay out of trouble for one night?'

'Bite me,' Riley scowled at her.

'So, it's Riley, is it?' Flack asked.

Riley glared at him through her fringe. 'So?'

'Well you can wait here whilst I go run your credentials.' Flack got up, leaving the girl with the social worker. He returned some time later with a hefty file. 'Quite a rap you've got, for a fifteen year old.'

Riley shrugged at him.

Flack flicked open the file and glanced down. 'Disturbing the peace, a couple of drinking offences, driving without a license, theft,' he looked up, 'criminal damage, and now grand theft auto.'

Riley shrugged again. 'So dish the community service and lets get this over with.'

'You don't want to give an explanation? And an apology?'

'Sorry,' she told him, clearly not sounding it.

'What about your parents?'

Riley glared at him. 'What about them?'

'You don't think they'd be a little concerned to know what their daughter was up to?'

'Detective?' the social worker interrupted. 'May I have a word?'

Flack nodded, stood, muttered, 'excuse me,' at Riley, and followed the social worker outside, where he was joined by Taylor. The social worker looked at Taylor with a raised eyebrow. 'She's the owner of the car that was stolen,' Flack explained. 'She's the one who's going to be pushing for Riley to be charged.'

'I'm Irene Stephenson,' she introduced herself. 'Riley's parents are dead. She's not one of my kids, so I'm not able to speak for her, but don't waste your time. I see these kids all the time and frankly, there's no hope for them. I'll head back to the office and get someone to pick her up. She should be out of your hair in a couple of hours.' And then she turned and disappeared.

Taylor blinked. 'Are they allowed to do that?' she asked in disbelief.

Flack sighed. 'They shouldn't, but they do.'

'Drop the charges,' Taylor said.

Flack looked at Taylor as if she'd lost her mind. 'I thought you wanted to run over the "punk" in the 'Stang? And now you want to let her go?'

'Oh, hell no!' Taylor exclaimed. 'She's not getting away with it. However, if she gets dropped in the system, she's never gonna get out of it.'

Flack eyed her suspiciously. 'What are you thinking, Taylor?' he asked her carefully.

'My good friend, Mac Taylor.'

'There's a whole lotta wrong with that sentence when it's said by you,' Flack muttered.

Taylor rolled her eyes at him. 'Whatever,' she told him, using her thumb and forefingers on both hands to make a "W". 'All I am saying is, let Mac dish out her punishment. Hell, I can dish it out if he gives approval. Let the kid clean the windows in the lab. That ought to keep her busy until she graduates!'

Flack stared at her in disbelief. 'You're evil,' he stated.

Taylor shrugged. 'She still stole my car, Don. It might not be death by windshield, but it can be death by window washing.'

Flack just shook his head. 'I'll have a word with Mac.'

Taylor beamed at him. 'Just make sure she's clear that as soon as the damages are paid for, she will be washing the car too.' Her eyes lit up. 'Oh, add the police cars to the list of things to be washed. And maybe the officer's personal cars too,' she added.

Flack held his hands up. 'I'm drawing the line at personal vehicles, Tay. Never mind graduation, the kid will be busy until retirement.'

* * *

_Sorry for the late update - I've been in London... went to see Ms. Spears at the O2!!_


	221. Feels like, feels like your life changes

__

Delko'sGirl88 - Hey! Wow, thanks for reading - I know it can be a bit of a daunting task. Her dad's name was something of a coincidence - I had Jack O'Neill (Stargate) in mind with him, actually! I hope you catch up soon (and still like it!)

_Madison Bellows - It was one of those moments whereby I was imagining what I would do it I was in that situation - except with me, there would be blood! lol I had much fun in London - I was sat in the last possible seat imaginable, but it was still ace!_

_ninjagurl512 - Hmmm, I think this might be another breather chapter for you too! Sorry to keep you waiting_

_sparkyCSI - You know, it's been so long since I wrote these chapters, I forget. And no, we're a little ways off yet!!_

_demolished-soul - No, that was about three episodes from now - Taxi. I'm not going to mess with that too much though!_

_Trizzy - Well, i think and even bigger, belated birthday wishes are in order! I have no idea where Riley came from, so to speak, but the muse seems to like her. And don't worry about Quinn - there will be no trouble there!_

_meadow567 - lol, she's still in London for a few more days, actually. I think the punishment was quite fair. I'd never have been as reserved!!_

_ambercsiny - It's alright, and I shall credit you properly too! My housemate's gran was a social worker (actually, most of her family are) and I spent a few hours listening to the horror stories. Sadly, it happens._

_Alrighty, the lyrics belong to Miley Cyrus – it'll all make sense!_

_There are spoilers from 4x17; Like Water For Murder, and thanks to my beta - because she's ace!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 220: Feels like, feels like your life changes**

Taylor picked Cordelia up from school and took her to the library. The child was babbling excitedly about an upcoming Spelling Bee competition she had been entered in. Remembering how Taylor had won a couple when she had been in school brought a smile to her face, and so she had offered to take them to the library to get some books on the subject so that they could practice together.

Over some sandwiches, they camped out on the floor, practicing their spelling. As far as Taylor was concerned, and she admittedly didn't know what the competition was like, the eight year old was good.

By the time Flack arrived back from work around eight, spelling had been abandoned. _Hannah Montana_ was on the background, but neither female was really watching it. Cordelia was lying on her stomach, drawing pictures of the new fish in the tank, whilst Taylor was sat in the middle of the couch, wrapped in a blanket, surrounded by pages and pages of notes and newspaper clippings (some of which had made their way to the floor). 'And how are my two favorite girls?' he asked, clearing a spot on the sofa next to Taylor and sitting down.

'What does my name mean?' Cordelia asked suddenly. Before either adult could give her an answer, Cordelia continued. 'Only Billy O'Brien said I was named after a character on _Buffy, the Vampire Layer_ and it means easy. And I don't understand how I'm easy.'

Flack's eyes practically burst from his head, whilst Taylor's mouth dropped open.

'Who is Billy O'Brien?' Flack finally managed to ask.

'He's in the eighth grade,' Cordy told him solemnly. 'Am I easy?'

'You better hadn't be,' Flack spluttered.

Taylor slapped Flack's arm and shot him a glare. 'Sweetie, your mother loved a show called Buffy the Vampire _Slayer_. Cordelia was her favorite character. And I can assure you your name doesn't mean _easy_.'

'What does it mean?' Cordelia pressed.

Taylor shrugged. 'I don't know. But we can find out.' She went and grabbed her laptop, opened the internet, and headed straight for Google. 'It means,' she smiled, reading the information. 'Of rare honesty.'

'Kinda fits,' Flack muttered, still fuming, and planning exactly what he was going to do when he laid his hands on Billy's neck…

'What does Don mean?' Coredlia asked, again interrupting his thoughts.

'World mighty,' Taylor replied after a few keystrokes.

'And what does that mean?' Cordelia asked, her eyes wide.

'That I have super powers and super strength,' he told her, flexing his muscles.

Cordelia eyed him skeptically. 'You don't look like a superhero.'

'Oh no?' He jumped over at her and picked her up, swirling her around. 'That's all part of my disguise,' he told her as Cordelia giggled hysterically. 'And now misses, it's time for you to get to bed.'

'You're really good with her,' Taylor told him after the child had dashed out of the door.

Flack shrugged. 'She makes it easy. Billy O'Brien, on the other hand…'

'Is in the _eighth grade_,' Taylor cut him off. 'Remember that, before you start running background checks and issuing warrants.'

'I bet he's still a toe-rag,' Flack grumbled, settling back down in the gap on the sofa he had created. 'And you're the one that wanted to run a fifteen year old over.'

'Did Mac go for the punishment?' Taylor asked, pushing her laptop to the side.

Flack nodded. 'He quite liked the idea. She starts next week,' he frowned.

'What?' Taylor asked him.

Flack sighed. 'You know, I left there a while ago, and Riley was still there. Angell was watching her.'

Taylor glanced over at the clock. 'Hang on, I left you both about six hours ago. She's still there after _six_ hours?'

Flack nodded sadly. 'There are too many kids and not enough Social Workers.'

'But the woman was at the station. Why couldn't she take her then?'

Flack shook his head. 'I don't know. Frankly, it was a miracle she was there at all. We normally wait hours for someone to arrive for an interview.'

Taylor sighed and settled against Flack's side. 'Any luck with the finding the realtors' killers?'

Flack's mouth twitched up into a grin. 'How do you feel about chocolate underwear?'

'Not very practical,' Taylor shrugged.

Flack laughed. 'It's not supposed to be practical, Tay.'

---

Taylor awoke, her eyes suddenly wide open, as she sensed that there was someone standing in the room. It took her a couple of seconds to realize it was only Cordelia tugging at her duvet. 'Cordy?' she questioned, flicking the lamp on. 'What's the matter, sweetie?'

'I can't sleep,' Cordelia whispered, her eyes wide with fright.

'What's happened?'

'I think there's something in my closet,' she whispered.

Taylor frowned and pulled herself into a sitting position. 'Cordy, there's nothing in your closet,' she told her reassuringly.

'It's a monster,' Cordy whimpered.

Taylor gave her a smile and pulled her onto the bed beside her. 'I promise you that there's nothing in that closet,' she told her, wanting desperately to tell her that there was no such thing as monsters, but reluctant to lie to her. 'You just had a bad dream.'

Cordy shook her head. 'It wasn't a dream.'

'You want me to check the closet with you?' she asked her.

Again, Cordelia shook her head. 'No, I want Uncle Don to.'

Taylor glanced over at the sleeping body next to her. 'You sure I can't help you?'

'I want Uncle Don to protect me like he protects you,' Cordelia told her solemnly. 'You're not scared because you have him.'

'You have him too,' Taylor pointed out.

'But he doesn't sleep in my bed to keep me safe,' Cordelia retorted, on the verge of tears.

'You're right,' Taylor told her, her heart melting. She leant over and shook Flack's shoulder.

'Wassup?' he asked sleepily, his eyes half closed.

'I think you need to check under Cordy's bed,' she told him.

His left eye cracked open another quarter inch. 'Huh?'

Taylor nodded her head in the child's direction.

Flack yawned and leant himself up on his elbow to peer over Taylor at the small girl, clutching to the foot of her teddy bear. 'What's up, Worm?'

'There's a monster in my closet,' she whispered.

Flack yawned and pulled back the covers, swinging his feet over the end of his bed. He quickly ran his hand over his face, and headed for the door, placing his hands gently on Cordelia's shoulders to usher her back to her room.

Lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, Taylor could hear everything.

There was a quiet crack as Flack bent down, his knees cracking. 'See, there's nothing under there.'

'It wasn't under there anyway,' Cordelia told him.

There was another crack as Flack got to his feet and padded over the floor to the closet, the floorboards creaking in the middle of the room. There was a soft click as a door opened. 'Nothing over here, either.'

'Are you sure?'

'Come on, Worm. You get into bed.'

'Uncle Don?' Cordelia questioned, over the sound of her climbing into bed.

There was a louder creaking sound – Flack sitting on the end of the bed. 'Yeah?'

'Will you sing me a song?'

Taylor bit back a smile as Flack hurried down the stairs – the eighth and eleventh groaning under his weight, before the groans were repeated in the reverse order.

He quickly strummed his fingers over the strings. 'Which song do you want?'

'The one about the caterpillar.'

This time it was a giggle that Taylor choked back. Although still obsessed with _High School Musical_, Cordelia's latest obsession was _Hannah Montana._ She'd been watching the film that afternoon. The giggle disappeared as Flack started playing the right chords and singing.

'_You tucked me in, turned out the light  
Kept me safe and sound at night  
Little girls depend on things like that_

Brushed my teeth and combed my hair  
Had to drive me everywhere  
You were always there when I looked back

You had to do it all alone  
Make a living, make a home  
Must have been as hard as it could be

And when I couldn't sleep at night  
Scared things wouldn't turn out right  
You would hold my hand and sing to me

Caterpillar in the tree  
How you wonder who you'll be  
Can't go far but you can always dream

Wish you may and wish you might  
Don't you worry, hold on tight  
I promise you there will come a day  
Butterfly fly away'

Her mouth was still hanging open when Flack returned to their bed. 'What?' he asked her after he had slipped under the covers.

'How on earth do you know the words to Hannah Montana?'

Flack shrugged. 'I heard Cordelia play it and I wanted to know what it was. She leant me the CD to copy. It's in the truck.'

Taylor didn't think her mouth could fall any further open. '_Hannah Montana_?'

Even in the dark, Flack's flushing was obvious. 'I like the song, so sue me.'

'How about you sing it to me?'

This time it was Flack's turn to look dubious. '_You_ like Hannah Montana?'

Taylor shrugged. 'I'd just like to hear you sing.'

Flack snuggled down further into the bed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. 'Soon,' he promised. He shifted slightly and rubbed his feet up and down her legs.

Taylor let out a squeal and tried to push him away. 'Don! Your feet are freezing.'

'So is the floor,' he pointed out, trying to worm his toes between her bare calves. 'But you're not.'

'I am now,' she grumbled.

'Oh, you love me really,' he murmured, pressing his lips against her hair. 'All six foot two of me.'

'I don't know about the last couple of inches,' Taylor frowned. 'But I do love the rest of you.'

'How much?'

'With everything I am,' Taylor told him simply. She glanced up. 'What's the matter, Don?'

'Nothing,' he replied hurriedly.

'The look on your face doesn't say _nothing_.'

Flack inhaled deeply. 'I keep thinking about Riley.'

Taylor blinked. 'Well you can stop thinking about her. She's _fifteen_!'

Flack scowled at her. 'Taylor. I'm not thinking her about her like that!'

'Then what?'

He sighed and brought his arm up and under his head. 'She's still waiting at the station. According to Angell, she's fast asleep with her head on my desk.'

Taylor glanced over at the glowing green numbers on the clock. 'Don, it's two am.'

Flack nodded. 'You said something earlier: that you didn't want her to get lost in the system. I read her file. Before she was eleven, she was excelling at school, and then her dad got killed in a bodega shooting. She's been bounding about from care home to foster family for four years.'

'What about her mother?' Taylor asked.

'Left her when she was a baby.'

'What are you thinking?' she asked him suspiciously.

'We have a spare room,' he admitted. 'Two when Cordy isn't staying.'

Taylor sat upright and looked down at Flack, her eyes wide. 'What?'

Flack shuffled and then he too sat up. 'Would having her here be such a bad thing? At least until Social Services can place her properly?'

'Are you being serious?' she asked him disbelief. 'She stole my car and you want her to live under the same roof as Cordelia?'

Flack frowned. "Cordy stays with us a couple of times a month. I don't think she's a bad kid, Tay.'

Taylor shook her head. 'No, Don,' she told him firmly. 'She's not staying here.'

Flack sighed and lay back in the bed. 'It was just a suggestion.'

'I'm sorry,' she apologized. 'But I don't trust her, and regardless of how often Cordy stays here, it's still not fair to her. And I'm not letting her within a hundred feet of my car or car keys. Or my jewelry-'

'I get the picture,' Flack cut her off. 'I'll chase up Social Services tomorrow.'

---

Taylor was in the shower, singing along to the Ting Tings, when she almost fell out of it at the sound of Maddy clearing her throat. "For crying out loud, Maddy!' she yelped, reaching for the towel and wrapping it around her still soapy body. 'We have _got_ to develop some kind of boundary with you guys.'

'Yeah,' Maddy grinned wickedly. 'We're not around when you and Donnie Boy are having some "alone time",' she explained, her fingers making air quotation marks.

'You know what?' Taylor asked, glaring at her. 'We're editing that. If I'm naked, or Don's naked, you're not coming anywhere near!'

'None devoted, which shall be devoted of men, shall be redeemed; but shall surely be put to death.' The two ghosts said together.

Taylor frowned, trying to remember something from the Sunday School classes her mother insisted she attend. 'Okay, I'm drawing a blank,' she told them as her phone rang. She hurried back into her bedroom and grabbed the phone, glancing at the screen. 'Hi Reed.'

'_Taylor, we've been scooped.'_

Taylor glanced over at the ghosts. 'Huh?

'_The _New York Weekly_ has only gone and scooped us – they're saying it's a serial killer.'_

'That's not a scoop,' Taylor muttered, not thinking about what she was saying. 'I knew that.'

'We're not the only ones,' the ghost of Chrissy informed her.

'_What?!_ Reed blurted out angrily.

Taylor gave the ghost a puzzled look. _Had Reed just heard that?_

'_If you knew it was a serial killer, why didn't you say something, Taylor?'_

Taylor sighed. 'Reed, by the time I knew that, the deadline for the morning edition had been and gone.'

'_Yes, but mine hadn't,'_ he told her. '_If you'd have told me, we could have got that in the blog.'_

Taylor exhaled softly. 'Sorry, Reed. I'll remember that for next time,' she muttered as he ended the call.

---

After dropping Cordelia off at school, Taylor headed into the precinct, ready to share the latest development with Flack. She stopped short when she realized that Riley was still sitting at the desk, only now she was nibbling at a powdered donut whilst he was on the phone.

Taylor glanced at her watch. It was already gone nine.

'Mornin'' Angell greeted her.

'Hey, Jess, has that kid been here all night?' she asked her.

Angell nodded. 'Yup. We've both been calling periodically, but they've not sent anyone. It's a shame, because she doesn't seem like a bad kid.'

Taylor sighed. 'I'll be back later,' she told the detective as she retreated from the room.

She headed up to the crime lab, looking for Stella. She found her, in her office, snowed under piles of paper. 'You look bored,' she commented.

Stella looked up and nodded. 'I realized all of you were right. I'm having a baby, and really, I've not been taking care of us. So I've taken us out of the lab, away from the chemicals. Though, knowing my luck, boredom also has a detrimental effect on the baby. So, what's up?'

Taylor came in and sat down on the leather chair. 'Stell, have they found a third body?'

Stella looked at her in surprise, although it was quickly replaced with a look of understanding. 'Ghost?'

'Kinda,' Taylor nodded. 'The two girls have told me that they're not the only ones, which leads me to believe there is at least someone else. But their ghost has yet to appear.'

'Quinn found a third victim,' Stella told her. 'From three months ago. He washed up on the Jersey shoreline.'

Taylor nodded at the paperwork. 'You got a location in there?'

'Why?' Stella asked her suspiciously.

Taylor shrugged. 'Might as well go round him up.'

Stella frowned at her. 'Don't you normally want to get arid of the ghosts? Not collect more?'

'True,' Taylor admitted, crossing her legs. 'But I think he might help. And besides, I bet you could do with getting out of here?'

Stella nodded. 'Yes. But I get the feeling that's just a ruse to talk to me about something?'

Taylor stared in disbelief. 'How _do_ you do that?'

'Detective?' Stella shrugged, grinning.

'That's an excuse, not a reason,' she muttered. 'But I'm driving. The glass has been replaced, and it's time I had some fun and saw just how fast my baby can go.'

Stella shot her a disapproving look. 'You are aware that there are speed limits you have to abide by, don't you? And speeding equals an increase chance of serious harm. Don't forget, I'm pregnant!'

Taylor laughed. 'How could I?'

* * *

_Well I won't bore you with the details, but I will apologise for the delay in updating. I have had a manic few weeks, the higlights of which consist of messed up relationship and no more job (again!). Ah well, in the words of Kanye - what don't kill you will only make you stronger._

_Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, the alert adds and the fav adds, and just the general hits in general. I know my trials and tribulations are nothing compared to what some of you are going through and I'm just happy that y'all keep on reading. So seriously, thank you! And I'll try not to keep you waiting too long for the next update!! Much Love! xx_


	222. I see need

_demolished-soul - I'd tell you, but then there would be no need to read the chapter (:P)_

_Madison Bellows - When I can eventually get my muses to return home, I shall reveal all with that!_

_ambercsiny - you take your time and make sure you've got all your exams out of the way before you send me anything!_

_Delko'sGirl88 - I bet that took you ages - i'm glad you managed it though. I couldn't resist the HM bit. I saw the film at cinema and the idea hit me. Yeah, I'm 24 and watching Hannah Montana at the cinema, (:D)_

_sparkyCSi - Taylor's got a boring name, it means 'tailor'. And Flack is more than welcome in my closet. Though, it's full... I guess I'd have to find somewhere else for him to go (:P)_

_meadow567 - thank you!_

_It'sHowIRoll - Well I have a two-fold thanks for you - firstly for reading, and secondly for the other part of the review. After reading the original 'review' it was what I needed to hear. So thank you!!!_

_Trizzy - lol, I love your reviews! OMG, I saw the Transformers movie - it was soooo good, I went and saw it again. I love it!!! I completely agree with you on the Ting Tings_

_RK9 - Hun, you were missed! And of course - it was the least I could do! As for Seymour, I found him with the rabbits - I'll send him back_

_Brown-Eyed Girl 75 -I am getting really tired of the hate at the moment. It's just lowering morale! I hope your muse finds it's way back!!_

_Laura/Yellowpea - Everyone is entitled to their opinion. And I appreciate that there are many other people on this board who feel the same. However, what they seem to have cottoned on to - something that you have yet been able to - is that if they don't like a story, they don't read it, much less sit and read 220 chapters of it. Some of your points are valid. The rest is a little obtuse for the sublimely absurd. And even if I got a hundred reviews agreeing with you, I write for myself - everything else is a bonus! As it happens, there are over 2000 reviews disagreeing with you. And that is why I continue to post - for those who continue to read. However. There is one thing I would like to address. Having read my story you are entitled to your opnion of it being lame. However, in regards to my Djing skills, __as of September, my writing time will be effected due to the fact that I will be the headline DJ for th__e biggest, most popular student night in Hull - clearly achieved because of how bad I am. Thank you very much for taking the time to read my story and thank you for taking the time to leave feedback. I hope you will now use this as a good platform to improve your own efforts as a literary critic. _

_Sorry everyone. I'm just damn tired of all the hate on the board at the minute. If there's something about this story you don't like, feel free to share it - I'm happy to hear it. I'd just like there to be a little justification. And I've had comments in the past that have genuinely changed my opinion of something. But if you don't like the story at all - why are you reading it? Why are you "reviewing" it? Why aren't you out there puttting your own work on show?_

_Well, spoiler wise, we're still on _Like Water For Murder_, and as always, I still have thanks for my beta!_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 221: I see need**

'So, spill,' Stella pressed.

Taylor drummed the steering wheel. They were waiting to join the expressway, stuck in traffic. 'I'm sorry to ask this Stella,' Taylor sighed. 'But I grew up with my mom and dad, and even when dad was there, there were no arguments, so I can't say I know anything about divorce and single parent families, much less being in the system.'

Stella cocked her head. 'What do you want to know?'

Taylor glanced over. 'How bad is it? To be in the system, foster care, care homes?'

Stella stared thoughtfully out of the window. 'Hmmm, I can't say someone's asked me that before,' she looked back to Taylor. 'I lived in the St. Benedict Orphanage in Harlem. It was run by a group of nuns. They weren't too bad, but they were looking after about thirty kids.' She frowned. 'It was crowded, and we didn't really have much in the way of belongings, never mind personal space, and most of what we did have were hand-me-downs – donations from the city. And kids came and went all the time. But you made the best of what you were given, I suppose. Why?'

'Were you glad to leave?' Taylor asked, biting her lip.

'My parents died in a car accident, and I didn't have a relative to go live with,' she shrugged. 'I didn't really know anything else. But of course I was glad to leave. I was excited to go to college.'

Taylor nodded thoughtfully, merging with the traffic. 'College. You turned out alright, didn't you?'

Stella laughed. 'I hope I did,' she told her. 'But truthfully, I don't think it would have happened if it hadn't been for my Guardian Angel.'

'Your Guardian Angel?' Taylor repeated.

Stella nodded, an affectionate smile on her face. 'Professor Papakota. He found me at the orphanage and basically encouraged me to go to college. If I didn't have him, I wouldn't have gone. I would have turned out like so many other kids in there who had been forgotten.'

'But foster care isn't the end of the world?' Taylor asked her. 'I mean, you weren't the only one to come out so well.'

Stella shook her head. 'No, that's true,' she admitted. 'But there are stereotypes for a reason, Taylor. Now, why do you want to know about foster care?'

Taylor let out a long breath. 'They found the person who stole this,' she patted the steering wheel. 'She's a kid, Stell. A fifteen year kid, albeit with an attitude problem, but she was sat at Don's desk yesterday afternoon, and she's still there.'

Stella stared long and hard at Taylor's profile. 'You want to take her in?'

'It would never have crossed my mind if Don hadn't mentioned it, but yeah. Not permanently, mind,' she added hurriedly. 'Just until they can find something more suitable than a foster home that clearly hasn't missed her. And at least then, I will know that she's turning up at the lab every day.'

Stella blinked. 'Wait, _turning up at the lab_?'

'Yeah, so, I decided not to press charges because I didn't want her lost in the system, and suggested that her punishment might be a spell as the lab's window cleaner,' Taylor confessed.

'Taylor, that's a wonderful idea!' Stella beamed.

Taylor nodded. 'I was thinking of adding the patrol cars to the list, if she ever gets the windows finished.'

'No,' Stella stopped her. 'I mean about fostering. You and Don would make good foster parents.'

'It wouldn't be a permanent thing,' Taylor corrected her.

'Either way,' Stella shrugged. 'I still think it's a good idea. And it might be what she needs.' She shifted in her seat and rubbed at her belly. 'Can we stop off and get some pretzels? And some honey?'

Taylor shot Stella a long, sideways stare. 'Okaaay,' she said. 'That has got to be the weirdest craving.'

Stella shook her head, flushing. 'Nope, I can beat that.'

Taylor arched an eyebrow at the pregnant woman.

Stella sighed. 'I have a shelf in the cupboard full of pickles. Minus the juice.'

It took a minute for Taylor to process that. 'Ew!' she exclaimed. 'God, I am never getting pregnant!' she laughed.

---

Stella pulled a face as the pulled up near to where the Ben Melvoy's body was found. 'I'm going to have to stay here,' she murmured.

'Honey and pretzel not mixing to well?' Taylor asked, pointing to the giant, half-eaten snack.

'The smell of the sea,' Stella corrected her, shuddering. 'Right now, I don't think baby likes it!'

'I'll try not to be too long,' Taylor told her before exiting the car. She made her way up an embankment, and down onto the sand. She spotted the ghost immediately – he was the only thing on that stretch of beach apart from herself and a few seagulls. He was staring forlornly out to see, and didn't move as Taylor came and stood beside him. 'Hi,' she greeted him.

He turned, surprised. 'You can see me?'

Taylor cocked her head. 'And you can talk.'

'But you can see me!'

Taylor nodded. 'And you can talk.'

'But I'm dead!' he blinked.

'I know,' she reassured him. 'I can see the dead.'

'But that's not possible,' he told her.

'Clearly it is. Because we're actually having this conversation,' she pointed out. 'I'm Taylor. You're Ben.'

Ben nodded. 'I know who I am. I just don't know how I got here. The last thing I remember is getting a cab to work. My car wouldn't start.'

Taylor cocked her head thoughtfully. 'You don't remember anything else?'

Ben shook his head. 'The next thing I remember, I'm standing here, and I'm looking at my body. And it's surrounded by a load of cops.'

'You've been here for three months?' Taylor asked him in surprise.

Ben nodded. 'I didn't remember where else to go. And I've been trying to remember.'

'Well, there's a bit of good news, and a bit of bad news,' Taylor informed him. 'The good news is that you're not alone. The bad news is that you're not alone because you were killed by a serial killer, and we haven't caught him yet.'

Ben stared at her. 'I'm not sure how to take that.'

Taylor nodded. 'I get that.' She glanced out to sea and inhaled deeply. 'Maddy?' she called. Her dead friend appeared, accompanied by the other two victims. 'Ben, this is Maddy, Chrissie and Louise. Go with Maddy. She'll look after you,' she turned to Maddy. 'How come he never came to me with you three months ago?'

Maddy just shrugged. 'Hey, Chico!' she greeted Ben, reaching up to try and drape an arm over his shoulder. 'Welcome to the Mad House.'

'It may take me a while,' Taylor said to Ben, then to the other two. 'But I'm going to help find your killer. I promise.' She returned to the car and slipped in the driving seat.

'Find who you were after?' Stella asked her.

Taylor nodded. 'Actually, yes.'

---

'Babe? Where are you hiding? I've got a present for you' Flack called as he walked through the door. 'It involves a lot of chocolate and you not wearing anything!' He pushed open the door to the living room and nearly dropped the bottle of chocolate. 'Riley?'

Taylor looked up at him from the couch, blushing slightly. 'I think we need to keep our conversations at a PG-13 level.'

Flack cocked his head at the sulky teenager who was rolling her eyes, and then looked over to Taylor. 'And I think we need to move this conversation to the kitchen.'

Taylor nodded and followed him into the other room, watching him as he set the tub on the table. 'I thought the answer was no?'

'It was,' Taylor agreed.

'So what changed?' he asked.

'When I came by and saw that she was still at the precinct, and I spoke to Stella. It's not permanent, Don. I went to Social Services to find out what the situation was. She was in an orphanage in Jersey. That's why it was taking so long for someone to come get her,' she explained. 'I told them they had to make finding her a decent set of foster parents a priority and until then we would look after her.'

Flack leant against the counter and frowned. 'And what did they say to that?'

'Well,' Taylor paused. 'They said that she wasn't being abused or mistreated in the orphanage, so she wasn't a priority, and that most people didn't want kids her age,' she finished in a low voice, should Riley be able to hear them through the wall. 'So I said she could stay with us.'

Flack stared at her incredulously. And then he strode over, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her.

Taylor pulled away, breathless. 'Wow. Maybe we should take in some more waifs and strays!' she gasped.

Flack's hands settled on her hips as he rested his forehead against hers. 'I love you, Tay. But one waif and stray is enough. We already have Marty here.' He smiled softly. 'Thank you, Taylor. I know that wasn't an easy choice to make.'

Taylor gazed up into his blue eyes. 'Don, it was important to you. And besides, at the very least, we know she's going to be okay. And that she's going to follow her punishment through.'

'You told her that already?' he asked with a smirk, pulling his face back.

'You bet I did,' Taylor shrugged. 'I don't think she fully appreciates how much glass there is in the lab though.' She frowned. 'We're going to have to decorate the spare bedroom for her. She can have Cordelia's room tonight, but I don't think she's going to want Zac Efron on her bed, even if he is hot.'

'And you complained when you thought I had a think for that fifteen year old in there.'

Taylor frowned. 'He's a damn sight older than Riley, Don. And that's not the point.'

Flack grinned. 'I know. This weekend, we'll move the boxes from the spare room to the basement and buy some replacement sheets to those God-awful ones your mother put on the bed when she stayed here.'

'We're going to have to get her enrolled in a school as well. We can't be commuting to Jersey every day. It's just not practical,' Taylor nodded.

'Look, it's the Easter vacation next week. I'm on lates for the rest of the week, so I'll take her in, if you pick her up and take her to the lab. We'll find her somewhere during the vacation.' He stepped backwards and slipped the chocolate in the fridge. 'I guess we're going to have to save this for until we can find out how deeply she sleeps.'

Taylor sighed longingly. 'If I'd have known, I'd have let her sleep at your desk another night.'

Flack laughed. 'No, you wouldn't.'

'No, but I would have considered it,' she looked over at the door. 'I guess we'd best let her know she's grounded.'

---

Taylor rolled over and groaned. Laying down the ground rules with Riley had been... interesting. For starters, she was adamant that she wouldn't be staying long, implying the reason for that was that Taylor and Don would get fed up of her like the others had. As Flack had pointed out, the only way to change her mind on that fact was to prove her wrong. She didn't like the idea of being chauffeured to and from school, even if it was in a different state! And being grounded also didn't set well with her. Flack had informed her that trust worked both ways, and if she wanted to be allowed out, she would have to prove that she wasn't going to get into trouble. So she'd muttered, again, that she wouldn't be there long, and promptly disappeared to Cordelia's room.

'_She's gonna be fine,' Flack reassured her as they went to bed. 'She's gonna try and push us for a while, to see just what she can get away with, but so long as we're firm, but fair, she'll come around._

'You jump from a baby to a teenager? Are you insane?'

Taylor rolled over, tucking her arm behind her head as she lay on her side and shrugged at Maddy. 'I think we long established that,' she sighed.

'None devoted, which shall be devoted of men, shall be redeemed; but shall surely be put to death.' The two female ghosts said together.

Taylor glanced at Ben, sitting upright and yawning. 'Does that mean anything to you?'

Ben shook his head. 'Nope,' he admitted. 'Nothing.'

Taylor wrinkled her nose. 'You remember anything?'

'I remember being in a cab,' Ben shrugged. 'It was smokey, that's all I remember.'

Taylor exhaled, directing her breath upwards to blow her hair. 'Nothing else?'

'Nope.'

'Alright,' Taylor sighed. 'I'll head into the lab,' she frowned. 'Is Quinn still there?'

Maddy nodded. 'Yup. And I think she has a thing for Mac.'

Taylor laughed. 'Whatever.' She glanced over at the clock. 'Okay, leave it to me.'

The ghosts did, allowing her to pull on her jeans and a red silk blouse. She arrived at the precinct a short while later. Flack was at his desk, busy filling in forms, biting his tongue which was sticking out slightly. Opposite, Grace was watching him. She glanced up as she saw Taylor approach. 'Does he always do that?'

Flack looked up at Grace, and seeing that he was talking to someone behind him, spun in his seat. 'Hey!' he greeted her smiling brightly as she leant in to kiss him.

'Hey to you, too,' she returned. She turned to face Grace. 'Hi'ya Grace. How are you settling in?'

'Good,' Grace smiled. 'Flack has been very helpful and welcoming,' she nodded her head at him. 'So, does he always do that?'

Taylor laughed. 'When he has to concentrate, yes,' she laughed.

'Do what?' Flack demanded.

'Spit your tongue out when you're thinking,' Taylor told him, petting his head.

'I don't!' he objected.

'You do,' Taylor informed him.

'Don't worry: it's cute,' Grace told him.

Taylor frowned. 'How did it go with Riley and the school?' she asked, ignoring the comment – jealousy wasn't a good look.

Flack nodded. 'I went in and saw her principal. Turns out the kid has been skipping a lot of school. And whilst she wouldn't normally agree to moving a kid so late in the term, she does agree that the commute is too far and we are nowhere near her catchment zone. She said she'll help in any way she can, and make sure her assistant knows to send the transcripts through as a priority, but we should also be aware that the only way she's not going to repeat the year is if we find a school that's prepared to allow a makeup test at the end of the summer, providing we can either get her into a summer school, or provide her with a tutor.'

'Great,' Taylor muttered. 'Where are we going to find one of those?'

'Not at a state school.' The three of them turned to look at Gerrard who had joined them. 'So the rumors are true? You've adopted then?'

Flack shook his head. 'We're fostering.'

Gerrard frowned. 'Call it adopting and you get some time off. Like maternity and paternity leave.'

Flack and Taylor gave the inspector a very baffled look. 'You know about adoption leave?' she blurted out.

Gerrard actually laughed. 'I may not like HR, but I need to know some of the policies. I'll get the necessary paperwork together, and then, when you're ready, let me know what you want.'

'Boss, that's… great,' Flack admitted, getting up to shake his hand.

'I know it's not a cigar, but welcome to the world of parenting. Sleepless nights, premature balding and high stress levels.'

Flack laughed at him. 'She's not a baby.'

Gerrard nodded in agreement. 'No, she's a teenager. It's worse.' For a brief second, panic washed through Flack's eyes. 'Look, if you need help with a school, you should look at Nathanson Academy. My Natalie goes there. It's an excellent private school, and I can give you a good recommendation. In fact, maybe we can arrange for Natalie and?'

'Riley,' Taylor offered as Gerrard waited.

'Natalie and Riley can meet up,' he frowned. 'Assuming that Natalie can go an hour without being moody. Look, I'll go get started on that paperwork. You let me know if you need a recommendation. And again, congratulations.' He walked off.

Taylor turned to Flack. 'What's happened to your boss?'

Flack shrugged. 'He's always been alright with me, Tay.'

'Oh, so he's like your father and doesn't like me?'

'He doesn't like the fact you're a reporter always in the precinct. But from that, I'd say he likes you. So, Nathanson Academy?'

'Never heard of it,' Taylor shrugged. 'But it sounds expensive.'

'Well, state school isn't working. And I don't want her schooled from home.'

Taylor nodded. 'We'll have a look next week, but if it's too expensive… She's only staying with us until the system can find her something better, remember?'

Flack leant over and kissed her. 'We'll find somewhere else.'

Taylor sighed. 'I'm going to see if they've found anything on this serial killer,' she told him.

* * *

_ For all of you that continue to read this, thank you. I hope to see you at the next chapter!_

_Actually, I have a favour to ask all of you - I need some worldwide karma! I had a job interview on Friday and I hear back tomorrow (monday) if I get a second interview. If anyone fancies keeping their fingers crossed, it would be greatfully appreciated!_


	223. Where is the Love?

_yellowpea – Thank you for your opinion on my story. Whilst I respect that is your choice, it is done for my own sanity and enjoyment and nothing will stop that. I would appreciate it you would desist in insulting my readers and my beta – they too are entitled to their own opinion. Secondly, whilst skimming profiles, I read somewhere that one in eleven readers actually review. Just because people aren't reviewing doesn't mean they aren't reading, so please don't unsult them either._

_Madison Bellows – I know what you mean. It just means that my brain is going to have to work overtime to get it all figured out!_

_demolished-soul – I think she will – after all, look at who her 'dad' now is!_

_Frizzy – I had to double take then I read your name - I thought I was imagining things! Lol, I'm trying to keep season 5 spoilers to a minimum so I don't think you will have any problems here with that. I know what you mean about that whirlwind relationship! I hope you got your sleep!_

_Delko'sGirl88 – lol, I went to see that too, but the thing that got me about it was the audience. Me and my housemate were the only girls and then there were about twenty or so guys (nothing to do with us!). I was entertained by that all the way through the trailers! How did your interview go? I had my fingers crossed too!_

_sparkyCSI – yeah, you're fired! Lol. Sorry, I've just become distracted by the Fireman Sam theme that's come on the channel I'm watching. Baffling! (you may have to youtube it!). Anyways, yes, I want a wedding. I need to write faster!!_

_Vanessa.J – I think they're going to end up doing (;P). Don't worry on the chapters – you've got your priorities, but I shall wait impatiently!_

_Forest Angel – well, it's possible that Taylor has lost her mind (:s) And I hope it's not something I can't handle as a writer, but it was an idea that came to me, quite randomly (seriously – I was DJing!) but I'm going to see where it goes. It will take some research, me thinks!_

_meadow567 – you are completely right. I had a look back and realised just how bad it had gotten. I shall rectify it!_

_Hmmm, if there are no mistakes, I shall give my beta all the credit. However, as I suspect that I never sent her this, in reality, they are all mine!_

_There are still spoilers for _Like Water For Murder_, but I would also like to dedicate this chapter to ambercsiny as she gave me an idea AGES ago, which I have only just gotten around to using. Thanks, hun!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 222:**** Where is the Love?**

The lab was bustling still as Taylor exited the lift. Feeling very much like a spy, or at least, an intruder, she made her way along the corridors, trying to blend in as she kept an eye out for Quinn. Thankfully, as she stumbled across Danny, she didn't meet the red-head.

'You know, most people have a baby, rather than a teenager,' Danny told her as she entered the room.

'Cute,' Taylor frowned. 'How do you know?'

Danny laughed. 'Everyone knows. Aside from the fact that Mac briefed us that a kid would be working in the lab, Flack also shared the information.' He leant back in his chair and cocked his head at her. 'Although I don't know what this does for the pool.'

'The pool?' Taylor repeated in disbelief. 'There was a pool on us fostering?'

Danny shook his head. 'Nah, there was a pool on you two having kids.'

'There's a pool on us having kids?' Taylor again repeated.

'You're doing an excellent impression of a parrot,' Danny informed her. 'Maybe we should change your nickname to Polly.'

'Just try it,' Taylor glared at him. 'Drew is bad enough.'

'And there's that famous _explosive_ temper.'

Taylor leant forward and smacked him. 'I thought you'd gotten that one out of your system months ago.'

Danny frowned. 'Well someone's a little touchy today. What's up?'

Taylor sighed and sat down. 'Sorry. I'm just... a little stressed.'

'You wanna tell your Uncle Danny all about it?' he asked.

Taylor laughed. 'It's nothing.'

'If there's something bugging you...?'

'It's just, I have three ghosts following me around,' she thumbed over her shoulder. 'Not including Maddy. A serial killer on the loose, an editor who wants a story, and an office buddy who thinks I know more than I'm letting on, which I do. But I can't say anything because I look like a loon, or I look like I'm getting insider information. And then I can't wander around the lab and try to make sense of things the ghosts tell me, which by the way, they're quoting scripture at me, and makes no sense whatsoever. And as it is, I can't wander around, because not only has Mac made his feelings very clear on that, but also there's some woman trying to reaccredit the lab and make sure that all procedure is followed. _And then_, I am back in the same situation that I was in six months ago with Cordelia, only this time, it's a teenager, who I still want to throttle for stealing my car, but we _chose_ to foster her and I'm beginning to wonder if that's such a good idea because what do I know about bringing up a teenager?' she took a breath and looked over at Danny.

He was sat, eyes wide open, staring at her. 'Anything else?' he asked.

'I think I might be reading too much into Don's new partner's behaviour around him.'

'She is kinda flirty,' Danny nodded.

'So I'm not being paranoid?'

Danny quickly shook his head. 'No... I mean, yes. I mean... Don is crazy about you. You have nothing to worry about in that department. The rest of what you told me? You're good with Cordy. I think you're both going to surprise yourselves with how well you're going to be with Miley.'

'Riley,' Taylor corrected him.

'Riley. And if it helps, I'm waiting for Lindsay to finish running the trace on latest evidence, so maybe something will turn up then.'

Taylor exhaled softly. 'I hope you're right.'

'Of course I am,' Danny told her confidently.

Taylor frowned. 'So tell me about this pool.'

'Oh don't get upset about that. There's a pool for everything,' Danny shrugged.

'You guys don't have enough to do?' Taylor asked, wide-eyed.

'Of course we do,' Danny told her. 'But when you're running prints, or waiting for a warrant, or doing paperwork, it's a pleasant surprise when you win. Breaks up the day.'

'I did it!' Adam exclaimed, bursting through the door, Chad in tow.

'No, _I _did it!' Chad cried, snatching at the paper Adam was waving around.

Taylor turned to Danny, eyebrow arched. 'Is there a pool involving these two?' she asked him, ignoring the bickering lab rats.

'Several,' Danny admitted, suddenly lunging and grabbing the paper that Adam and Chad were arguing over. 'What's this?'

'We found the church that the gravestone came from,' Chad declared.

'What?' Taylor asked, confused.

Danny glanced up from the paper. 'The marks on the victims were cut using stone – a gravestone. And by the looks of things, the gravestone came from The Church of St. Angelo.'

'Just down the road from Ground Zero,' Adam added.

Danny looked over at them. 'And what about the paper trace?'

'We, uh,' Chad faltered.

'You decided it takes two of you to hand over information?' Danny asked, smirking. He turned to Taylor. 'I'm going to work on that. You staying?'

Taylor shook her head. 'No, I'll head over to the church. Maybe the scripture will make sense there?'

'What scripture?' Adam asked.

Taylor shook her head. 'Nothing. I'll see you later,' she told them, rising from the chair and leaving the room.

---

Taylor got out of the car and entered the church whilst Flack went to find the priest and Hawkes wandered around the grave yard. It was cool and dimly lit, and yet was reassuring and welcoming. Taylor sat down on a pew at the back and stared down to the front and the giant crucifix.

'What are you thinking about?' Maddy asked her, materialising next to her.

'I was enjoying the quiet, actually,' Taylor muttered.

'Good luck with that,' she grinned.

Taylor glanced behind Maddy, spotting the three forlorn ghosts. 'You guys remembering anything?'

'None devoted, which shall be devoted of men, shall be redeemed; but shall surely be put to death.' The two female ghosts said together.

Taylor sighed and looked at Ben. 'Anything useful?'

Ben looked around and shook his head. 'Nope. Sorry. I keep trying to remember _something_.'

Taylor nodded, looking down at her watch. 'Crap. I'm going to have to head to Peterson and get Riley.' She sighed. 'And I left the car at the precinct. This cab ride is going to cost me,' she sighed again. 'At this rate, private school will be the cheaper option,' she added, rising to her feet. She turned to the four ghosts. 'Look, I know that I'm probably wasting my breath here, but if you could add no contact whilst Riley's about, I would greatly appreciate it. She's got enough going on without thinking I'm a whack-job.'

'I'll see what can be done,' Maddy agreed.

Taylor blinked in surprise but nodded. As the ghosts disappeared, she headed back outside into the daylight and was joined almost immediately by Stella. 'Shouldn't you be confined in a lab?'

Stella shrugged. 'Just bringing Mac some information,' she told her, indicating to the manila folder in her hands. They walked over to Mac and Hawkes. 'I ran a search on L2729. Unfortunately, our letter/number combo is used 101 ways and counting. Did you guys find anything here?'

Hawkes waved his arm. 'Any of these gravestones can be the source of the stone used to carve his vics,' he told them as Flack joined them.

'I've shown photos of the vics to the priest,' Flack added. 'He doesn't recognise them. Neither do any of the daily guests out there.'

Stella looked around the graveyard. 'Then why here? What does this place have to do with these murders?'

'Maybe the killer's a member of the congregation?' Mac suggested.

Taylor laughed dryly. 'Too bad we don't have a name or a photo.'

Hawkes inhaled deeply. 'How can someone kill three people and not leave a piece of themselves behind?'

'Flack,' said Mac. 'I want a list of anyone who attends services or uses the church as sanctuary.'

Flack nodded. 'I'll see what I can do.'

'You know,' said Stella, staring at the closest tombstone. 'The killer's MO doesn't add up. First he kills Ben Melvoy, the attorney from New Jersey, and then three months go by and he kills Chrissie Watson and Louise Perry - Two real estate agents.'

'Yeah, I'm not seeing how this guy is picking his vics,' Hawkes agreed.

Taylor shrugged. 'None of this makes sense to me either.'

Mac nodded. 'We're dealing with a psychopath. A predator who takes what he wants and doesn't leave a reason for doing so. We may never know why. Our job is to find out the who.'

'So we go back to the evidence,' Stella finished.

'We do,' Mac agreed. 'Hawkes, I want samples of every one of these gravestones. If one of them matches I want to know about it.'

Hawkes nodded. 'I'm on it,' he told them, disappearing back into the graveyard, a picture of determination.

Mac turned to Stella. 'You want a ride back?'

'Yeah, sure.'

Mac turned to Taylor and Flack. 'Taylor?'

Taylor shook her head. 'I need to catch a cab. Riley will be getting out soon, and if I'm not careful I'm going to be late.'

Flack frowned. 'That's going to cost a small fortune.'

Taylor nodded. 'It's my own fault for leaving the car at the lab. I'll know for next time. I'll see you at the lab in a while with Riley,' she told Mac before he and Stella disappeared. 'Is it likely to be a late on for you tonight?'

Flack nodded with a sigh. 'Looks like. Sometimes I wish it would quieten down. At least I have Grace to pick up the slack. And as a newbie, I got her to finish up the paperwork on Kohl.'

'You complain when it's busy, and yet you know if it was quiet you'd be bored,' Taylor laughed.

'True,' he admitted.

'I should get going,' she sighed.

'You know, I'm not sure I like the idea of you traipsing across the state line by yourself with a random taxi driver,' Flack told her, pulling her into his arms.

Taylor looked up and softly shook her head. 'You'd rather I took the subway?'

'I'd rather _I_ took you,' he murmured.

'Now how did you manage to make that sound dirty?' she asked him with a grin.

Flack leant down and kissed her. 'Later,' he whispered in her ear as he pulled away.'

Taylor smiled and left him. She slung her bag over her shoulder and hailed a cab. One pulled up and she slid in.

'Where to?' the driver asked her.

Taylor frowned. 'Good question. Just a minute,' she told him as she rooted the address out of her bag and reeled it off at him. She could see the dollar signs flash up in his eyes in the rear-view mirror as he pulled away. And then he slammed the brakes on and Taylor went careering into the plastic divide. 'What the _hell_?' she cried as she got back into the seat, glaring at him. She looked up to find him with his hands up. Her attention flicked to just in front of the car where Flack was standing in the middle of the street, gun aimed at the driver. Taylor grabbed her bag and hurried out of the car. 'What's going on?'

Flack ignored her. 'Taylor, get away from the car!' he yelled at the terrified taxi driver, yanking the door open.

Taylor stared, mouth hanging open 'Don?' she tried again. There was a squeal of rubber as Mac's SUV squealed to a halt behind them and the two CSIs exited the vehicle.

'Taylor?' Stella cried, hurrying over as Mac headed to Flack's side. 'You're alright?'

'Of course I am,' Taylor told her. 'Shouldn't I be?' she asked, turning to the curly-haired woman in confusion, as Mac began talking to the driver.

'We worked out how the killer is picking his victims.'

'I still don't understand,' Taylor muttered.

Stella was prevented from explaining as her phone rang. 'Danny? Yeah... _What...?_ Thanks.' She hung up the phone. 'Mac!' she yelled. 'That was Danny. The killer is a cab driver!'

Taylor's mouth dropped open, Flack's gun was suddenly aimed back at the taxi driver, Mac was spinning him around and cuffing him, whilst the driver was shouting, _'I didn't kill no one!'_

Taylor turned back to Stella in complete confusion. 'Stell?' she pleaded. 'What in God's name is going on?!'

Stella finally turned to the journalist. 'Billboards. The killer is picking his victims using billboards a shopping list,' she said, pointing down the street at the bus shelter where Ben Malvoy's face was grinning at them.

Taylor followed the detective's extended arm and looked further down the street, spotting Chrissi, Louise, and finally herself. With a frown, she brushed past Stella and marched down the street. She hadn't gone three paces before Mac and Flack were at her side.

'Where are you going?' Flack demanded.

'Don, my picture's been up all of two days. And Reed's face is also on that poster,' she pointed out. 'I want to see what, or who, I replaced,' she told the two men.

Mac nodded and stepped to the side. Flack, reluctantly, followed suit, and followed her down the street. Like Ben, her face was also on the side of a bus stop. She turned to Mac. 'You got a knife?'

He nodded and pulled a pen knife out of his pocket, handing it over.

Taylor took it, flicking it open, and used it to prise the plastic window open. She scraped at the edges with her nails, and finally pulled the picture away. Underneath was an advert for another real estate agent – P.J. Davis. She turned to Mac. 'Mac, I'm fine. But just in case that isn't the killer you've just arrested, you need to find Reed and you need to find her,' she jabbed her thumb at the smiling face.

Mac nodded. 'Good job, Taylor,' he praised her before hurrying back to Stella, phone attached to his ear.

Taylor exhaled slowly and looked down at her hands. 'I'm shaking?' she asked, surprised. Before she could look up, Flack was wrapping his arms around her, clutching at her as though there was a chance she was about to vanish.

'You are never getting a cab again,' Flack muttered into her hair.

'Don, I can't breathe!'

Flack pulled away a fraction of an inch. 'We should get you home.'

'You should go catch a killer,' Taylor corrected him. '_I_ should go pick Riley up. Unless you want her to catch a taxi home by herself?'

'I'm coming with you,' Flack told her.

'Don, you have work.'

'I'm coming with you,' Flack replied more forcefully.

Taylor nodded, shut her eyes and collapsed against his chest, returning his embrace. 'I think I'd like that,' she admitted into his shirt.

---

'Riley, this is Detective Taylor. Consider him your lord and keeper until you graduate,' Taylor told the glaring teenager.

'Call me Mac,' Mac told the blonde, offering a hand which she glared at. 'Right, let's get you familiar with the broom closet.' He led them to the room in question, opening the door. Or at least he tried. 'Hmmm,' he muttered, reaching into his pockets for his keys. He was about to put them in the lock when there was a bang from inside the cupboard, followed by a very familiar voice cursing. Mac inhaled sharply, his face already disapproving. 'Danny, Lindsay, you have two minutes to get your clothes back on and then I want to see you in my office!' He turned to Taylor, who was trying desperately not to laugh, and Riley, who _was_ laughing. 'How about you acquaint Riley with the break room?'

Taylor nodded and ushered the teen down the corridor.

Twenty minutes later, Riley was cleaning the glass, iPod in her ears, and Lindsay was walking red-faced into the break room. 'The broom closet?' Taylor asked, smirking.

'We haven't had a break all day!' Lindsay objected. 'And what we do in our own time is up to us.'

'You might want to keep it more on the DL,' Taylor laughed.

'DL?'

'Down-Low; where certain _activities_ should be kept a little more discreet,' Taylor explained. 'I'm trying to get down-with-the-kids.'

'You do realise in a single sentence that you've managed to age yourself into a whole new generation?' Lindsay pointed out, handing her a bottle of water.

'Okay, I'm freaking out about having a teenager,' Taylor admitted. She frowned. 'Hmmm, that's the same initials as you and Danny.'

Lindsay rolled her eyes. 'I have booked Ithaka for April 7th, for the baby shower.'

'I thought you hadn't had a break today?' Taylor asked, the smirk returning.

'Oh shut up,' Lindsay laughed. 'That's what Mac thinks anyway.'

Taylor laughed. 'Well, I'm going shopping this weekend for things for Riley. I'll call in and get some invitations. You still think we should go for a book theme?'

Lindsay nodded. 'I think it's a great idea. And I can't wait to see what everyone's favourite books were when they were kids.'

Taylor smiled, leaning back into the chair. 'I have to narrow that down,' she admitted. And then Maddy turned up, complete with _four_ ghosts. 'Not another,' she muttered

'Another what?' Lindsay asked her.

'Oh, I just thought of another book' she said getting to her feet. 'Look, I don't want to keep you from your work – Mac's probably going to be on your back now. I'll see you later when I pick up Riley?'

Lindsay nodded. 'Yeah, you're right. See you later.'

---

'So much for an exclusive,' Reed muttered as he walked beside Taylor to the water.

'Reed, you're going to get that on the internet within minutes. I have to wait until the first edition tomorrow,' Taylor pointed out. 'Don't worry – you're not going to get scooped, and this way, Nancy stays happy.'

'For now,' Reed agreed as they joined Mac. 'I really appreciate this,' he told Mac.

Taylor watched as Hawkes crouched down and lifted the latest victim's head as Reed stayed back, typing away on his Blackberry. 'Same marks. They look post mortem. Mac, it looks like a killing with the same MO,' he muttered, shooting a wary glance at Reed.

'Is there an ID?' Taylor asked, wondering what the name of the latest ghost was.

Hawkes searched the victim's pockets and then shook his head. 'Nothing.'

Mac turned to Flack. 'I want every cab checked - background checks on the drivers and I want their trip logs.'

Flack gaped at the senior CSI. 'Mac, there are _eleven thousand _cabs in this city!'

Mac nodded, grimly. 'Our killer's a cab driver. Any New Yorker could be his next victim.'

* * *

_Well, thank you for all the luck and crossed fingers. The feedback from the interview was good – it was an excellent interview and I couldn't have improved on it. Sadly, the other candidate was a little more qualified. Rats! Ah well, there will be other jobs!_


	224. But you are all I really want in this

_Wow, am I annoyed - I wrote all my review responses and then the internet had a fit. Great. Let's see if I can remember what I wrote... (:s)_

_ambercsiny - Don't worry - I know how life can get! So, have you finished school, or have you got a few more weeks before you can enjoy the summer?_

_Aphina - LOL, we're as bad as each other! I've been watching random episodes trying to coax my muses back to writing on this, and I think it's finally working!_

_demolished-soul - LOL, I don't think this chapter is what you're expecting! And Aiden is alright - there's a reason she's not appearing so much, but she's gonna be back soon!_

_LexiLoLo200 - I can't believe you read it so quickly! I'm glad you like it, and thank you for sticking it out!_

_TVjunkie323 - I love going back and rereading this sometimes because it's nice to see that I've grown as a writer. I'm glad you like Taylor too! As for the other story - that's the main reason for the lack of updates on this fic. I can't stop writing on the other one (which has got to be a good thing!)_

_SydneytheDoucheBagSlayer - Thank you for that! It definately cheered me up to read that! Hopefully, _someone_ will actually pay attention?!_

_yellowpea - Thank you again for you opnions, both in the review and the pms. They have been noted._

_Madison Bellows - I love dorky Taylor -she's much fun to write. And the supply closet is up there with the elevator! So much fun can be had in them!_

_Raisin Cookies - Thank you for your review - I noticed the same thing, which is actually kinda worrying!! Despite my disappearance, I haven't abandonded this story, I promise!_

_Emma Callan - I am definately going to continue on, so don't worry! And I'll keep my fingers crossed that the show writers read it and whisk me away to LA!_

_sparkyCSI - I didn't think I had, but never mind! I do write for me... when I can convince the muses to concentrate on one thing!_

_First time Reviewer - Don't worry - I know what it's like! And I will be honest, the reviews really bummed me out, but I also think you might be on to something! Thank you for reviewing, _

_Maraena - I think it is one! And they won't be dragging me down any more!_

_meadow567 - LOL, I actually hadn't thought of that. Pregnant Lindsay... we shall see!_

_Delko'sGirl88 - They called me back and said that I was second choice and the other person had changed their mind - did I still want it? Did you get your job?_

_Trizzy - LOL, I liked the 'Frizzy'ness, it was just another reason as to why your reviews make me smile (and now I'm picturing hip hop moves, although I think I'm actually just remembering scenes from Step Up!_

_Nienna Tinehtele - My friend bought a brand new car, went to the store, came out and it wasn't there. Now, admittedly, she had the genius idea of leaving the window down, so it was her own fault. They found it burnt out three days later! They're not going to put me down any longer! Thank you!_

_miss wizard of oz - Gah, it's really annoying! More so because they've clearly done it under another account! Ah well, they'll grow up one day! I hope!_

_RK9 - You know something, I have really started to wonder why I like the pairing. My faith in it is also waining, but that's to do with things on this board, rather than the show (:s) I hope your muses have cut you a break, and if you need me to read over anything I'd be more than happy to!_

_A/N: Okay, it's time for a much overdue fluffy chapter. A little Flack/Taylor time. Now, in my opinion I suck at smutty stuff, so I'm sticking to my strengths and not writing it. I'll leave it up to your imagination!_

_Right, there are big thanks to my beta who had this chapter twice due to my inability to decide whether to post it or not. Thanks to Aphina for batting the ideas around and telling me to go for it anyway. And then, there's the dedication - to meadow567. The banners and flags are flying!_

_

* * *

_

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 223: ****But you are all I really want in this life**

Taylor rolled over with a small sigh as she heard Flack on the phone. She didn't open her eyes until she registered what he was saying.

'I'm sorry, Nancy, but she's _really _ill. She's puking her guts up everywhere.... no, I hope she'll be better tomorrow too... yes, I'll either ring myself or get her to. Bye.'

Taylor propped herself up on her elbow. 'Puking my guts up?'

Flack grinned. 'I have plans.'

Taylor frowned. 'What kind of plans?' she asked suspiciously.

'Well, I realised that you and I have had no real time together,' he told her. 'So, whilst I take Riley to school, I want you to get dressed. Because tonight she's got detention and that gives us all day to spend together.'

A smile grew on Taylor's face. 'I like what you're thinking, detective.'

'I'm not just a pretty face,' he told her proudly.

'No, you have a very pretty body too,' Taylor agreed.

Flack dropped the phone on the bed and jumped on it, crawling over to her so that he was on all fours above her. 'I hope you like me for more than my body,' he muttered into her ear.

Taylor shivered at the feel of his warm breath. 'Not really,' she told him.

'I suppose that's a good thing,' he whispered, tracing kisses down her neck. 'Because I have so many ideas how to use this body today.' He planted a final kiss on her collar bone and climbed off the bed.

Taylor opened her eyes and relaxed her back. 'Are you kidding? You can't just leave me there.'

Flack wiggled his eyebrows. 'Just wait until I get back.'

Taylor grabbed his pillow and flung it at him. 'Meanie.'

---

'_WHAT HAVE U GOT PLANNED THEN??' _Taylor text him as soon as she heard the front door close.

Seconds later her phone beeped at her. '_ULL HAV 2 W8 N C._'

Taylor frowned, biting at her lip. '_NOT EVEN A LITTLE CLUE??'_

'_NOPE.'_

Taylor laughed and pushed back the covers. The shower was quick, and she was done, hair dried, make-up on and fully dressed by the time Flack got back. 'Well, detective. What do you have planned?'

Flack let out a low whistle as Taylor rose to her feet. She was dressed in a simple white, high halter-neck dress. He quickly shook his head and produced a small box from behind his back.

With a small smile, Taylor took the box and undid the small yellow bow. Inside was a simple pair of silver twist drop earrings. 'Don, they're beautiful,' she told him. 'What did I do to deserve this?'

'Can't a guy buy his fiancé a present for no reason?'

'You can buy me as many presents as you want,' Taylor grinned, wrapping arms around his neck, her fingers playing with his hair as she leant up and kissed him. Finally she pulled away and looked up at him. 'So, what's the plan?'

'Can't you just relax and be surprised?' he asked her, although he was grinning.

'Well,' she responded, coyly. 'I was merely wondering if we had a strict time schedule? Or whether we had some time to spare?'

'And what do you have in mind?' he asked.

Taylor grinned and nodded her head in the direction of the bed.

---

'It's a good job that I didn't book that table,' Flack muttered into Taylor's hair.

They were both lying on top of the sheets, allowing the cool March breeze to caress their bodies. Half entwined with Flack, her head resting in the nook of his shoulder, Taylor shifted and looked up at him. 'I have an idea,' she murmured.

'Mmmm?'

'Let's not go anywhere,' she told him. 'After all, I am sick and I really should spend the day in bed.'

'I like that idea,' he agreed, tightening his embrace. 'We don't spend enough time in bed.'

'Oh, I'd agree with that,' Taylor nodded, shivering slightly.

'You cold?' Flack asked, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

'A little,' she admitted. And in a quick movement, she was straddling him, her hair falling loosely onto his bare chest. 'So, I've been thinking.'

Flack let out a groan. 'Please tell me they were dirty thoughts.'

'Pervert,' Taylor chided him. 'I was thinking, maybe we should put an extra layer on our walls, line the gap with salt, and effectively make a soundproof, ghost proof room. What do you think?'

'I think that's one of the best ideas you've ever had!' he exclaimed, moving, rolling them both other. There was a flurry of sheets, and a squeal from Taylor as they went careering off the bed and landed on the floor. 'Maybe we need to work out how to soundproof the floor as well,' Flack groaned.

'I think it might be time to get a carpet down on it,' Taylor laughed as she flopped down onto him.

'And decorate it.'

Taylor nodded. 'Something other than bare walls would be nice.'

'I thought we agreed our room was low on the list of priorities,' Flack frowned.

'Hey!' Taylor objected, bringing her hands up under her chin. 'You're the one who brought it up!'

'That's true,' he admitted. 'Can I bring up the idea of turning the basement into a games room?'

'You can bring it up, but you know what the answer's going to be,' Taylor laughed. 'I hardly see you enough, what with work, kids, ghosts and that damn PS3! I can't believe our phones haven't gone off!'

Flack grinned. 'That's because I turned them all off,' he announced proudly. 'I'm off, your sick – I wasn't going to risk it.'

'Do you know how much I love you?' she asked him.

'Enough to christen the floorboards?' he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Taylor leant over. 'We already christened the floorboards,' she whispered in his ear.

'Remind me how that was again?'

---

'I am _starving_!' Taylor exclaimed. The pair had finally emerged from the bedroom to investigate what there was in the fridge. Peering under Flack's arm, it was evident there was very little.

'Why is it, when there's sweet FA in a fridge, there's always eggs?' Flack asked, pulling them out.

'Pass,' Taylor shrugged before hoisting herself up onto the side and leaning back against the side of the fridge. 'But where there are eggs, there are omelettes. Now whisk!'

Flack rolled his eyes as he ducked into a cupboard and pulled out a bowl.

From her position, Taylor let out a very contented sigh. Watching Flack whisk, wearing only a pair of boxers and a wife beater was a very nice sight. 'We're going to have to do this more often,' she told him.

Flack looked over and nodded. 'We are. Although we're going to have to stock the fridge beforehand if we do. See, this is why I was going to take you out.'

Taylor shrugged. 'Well I like the idea of eating something simple that you've made yourself. I prefer wearing your shirts whilst I eat it,' she told him, wrapping the pale blue fabric around her. 'You know, we never celebrated your birthday?'

Flack shrugged. 'We never celebrated yours.'

'Well I was in a coma. That's a pretty good reason,' Taylor told him.

'And you were being held up in a bank,' Flack returned. 'We'll just make sure they get celebrated in style next year.'

'I know, but I still feel like we should do something to celebrate.'

'Tay,' Flack sighed as he scraped the omelette onto a plate. 'Shut up and eat,' he ordered, passing her a fork.

'This is good,' she announced, waving the fork at him.

Flack glanced at the clock as he took a mouthful. 'Yeah it is,' he agreed. 'And we need to eat up and get in the shower. We need to leave soon.'

'Why does time always pass so quickly when you're having fun?' Taylor pouted.

'To make you appreciate it more,' Flack shrugged.

---

Taylor stuck her head around the door of the teenager's still dark room. 'Riley?' she called, rapping on the door. 'It's one. Get your ass out of bed!' The previous night, after spending several hours at the lab, Riley had come home and straight to her bedroom. Despite spending the majority of the day in their own bed, Taylor and Flack had done the same. Now, it was past midday, Flack had gone to work, and Taylor was impatiently waiting for the teen to rouse so the pair could hit the shops and buy some things to decorate her room.

The lump in the middle of the bed grunted and rolled over.

Forcing a smile, Taylor strode into the room and wiped the curtains back, sending bright light streaming into the room. 'Up!'

'It burns!' Riley cried, grabbing a pillow and dumping it over her head.

'Riley, we're supposed to be going out and choosing some paint for your room. And some bed sheets. And a few other things,' Taylor declared, her hands on her hips. 'So unless you really want to stay in bed all day, I suggest you get your ass out of bed and in the shower.'

'_Screw you!_'

Taylor's head snapped up. 'What was that?'

Moving at lightning fast speed, Riley sat bolt upright in bed. 'Nothing!' she declared, her bright blue eyes, hidden behind panda eyes, were wide and alarmed.

'_Suck on my popsicle!'_

Taylor's eyes snapped to the closet. 'Riley,' she started as she moved over to the aforementioned location. 'What's in there?'

Riley was in front of the closet in a shot. 'Nothing!'

'_I didn't do anything_' the voice proclaimed, before it was followed by a squawk.

'Move it, kid,' Taylor frowned, as Riley moved to one side, her head hanging. She pulled open the door and found, swinging upside down on a coat hanger, a bright red parrot. Taylor slowly turned her head to look at Riley. 'What's that?'

'Michael Jackson?' Riley offered.

'Michael Jackson?' Taylor repeated.

Riley nodded sheepishly. 'He does a very good impression of Thriller.'

'And what is Michael Jackson doing in your closet?' she asked, then mentally frowned at her choice of words.

'I found him,' she muttered.

'You found a parrot in your closet?'

'_That's another fine mess you got me into_,' it squawked, tilting its head to peer at the pair of them with its black beady eye.

Taylor let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and her own version of a squawk.

'I found him the day before yesterday,' Riley admitted.

Taylor frowned. 'So, the detention you got for skipping school. _This_ is what you were skipping school for?'

The parrot looked at her, cocking its head. '_And we would have gotten away with it, if it wasn't for you pesky kids!'_

Riley nodded. 'Can I keep him?'

Taylor glanced over at the bird as it started singing the chorus to _Earth Song_. 'Riley, it's got a band. It might belong to someone.'

'But if it doesn't?' Riley asked hopefully.

Taylor exhaled. 'We'll see what Don says.' She looked at the teen, who for the first time, actually seemed happy. 'Get dressed. I'll see if I can find somewhere for Michael Jackson... couldn't you call him something else?'

Riley shrugged. 'He seems to answer to Mikey.'

Taylor sighed. 'I'll see if I can find somewhere for Mikey to sleep. He can't stay in a closet.'

* * *

_Axellia's second note: For the record, this was __written _and_ sent to my beta _before_ the late, great Michael Jackson died. I wasn't going to post it, but realised that I could get my muses to cooperate and it was either this, or delete the chapter altogether and wait an unspecified amount of time for the urge to write to return._

_Lot's of notes today - you can skip to the end if you want!_

_AxN3/ Thank you to everyone who has been sending supportive words in their reviews, emails and pms! It's really meant a lot to me to see how much y'all still like my epic baby!_

_AxN4/ Thank you for continuing to read and review - so long as the hits go up, I will keep writing!_

_AxN4/ Thank you to everyone who has added me to their favourites and alerts!!_

_AxN5/ (Nearly finished!) I just thought I would say that the worldwide karma worked - I have a more permenant job which I can't wait to start (I just have to wait for the police check to come through!)_

_AxN6/ Alright, so it's not a note, so much as a brag - and I'm soooo excited about this! I also appreciate that this may be lost on the majority of you (namely the non-Britts, so bear with me!) BBC Radio 1's Chris Moyles of the Breakfast show is bringing his Roadshow to the nightclub I work in. It's gonna be recorded for TV and Radio. And the best bit - I've been asked to finish the night off!! Which, by all rights means, Chris Moyles is gunna be _my_ warm-up act!!! Woo hoo!_


	225. And when the worrying starts to hurt and

_gracefullygothic - That's alright. I love randomness! Yes, I believe they were from My Immortal. The majority of the titles are song lyrics, although some are a little more obscure_

_TVjunkie323 - You're always going to be the first to sample my chapters, and you're the only person who has read everything so far! So thank you for that! And thank you for still loving this!_

_Aphina - I'm glad you're still enjoying it! And thanks again for finding 'me' over on Mibba. Yeah, I'm still laughing!_

_KansReader - Hey! Have you made it to the end? Thanks for reading & reviewing!_

_natabrains - Wow, again! Thank you for all your reviews. I won't say anything else, I won't. I'll give too much away! But thank you!!_

_ambercsiny - It's been ages, but are you finally feeling better? How's the writing going?_

_demolished-soul - You reminded me that I haven't mentioned her in a while. She's off having fun! But I love her and Maddy, so I'll be bringing her back into it soon. Thank you!_

_sparkyCSI - It was on the news, which I didn't realise and didn't tape. But I was in the background, carrying a CD deck. That was it. They didn't focus on me later (:c). I pout, but I'm glad, really. I did get a mention on another DJ's radio show - at 4 in the morning. He remembered me because I was the 'DJ who kicks her shoes off before she pulls her CDs out'!_

_meadow567 - Elope? I have their wedding written already, and there isn't any eloping involved. I just need to type faster so I can get it posted sooner!_

_Nienne Tinehtele - It was long overdue, wasn't it? Thank you!_

_Trizzy - lol, You're talking to the person who has just watched every single episode of SN again (strangely, watching that befor bed has become a ritual). I know what you mean about the pairing though! I don't understand how that is so popular. But go for it!! That's what I say!_

_Forest Angel - Thank you! I'm going to keep writing. Hopefully other people will realise that simple thing too!_

_LexiLoLo200 - I'm glad you liked, although I'm sorry for the wait on the update! But I'm very glad you're enjoying it!_

_The Corrupter - Britney was ace! Thanks for your support, hun. How's Canada/your mom treating you? When are you returning to the UK? Any news on your uni?_

_twilightgirl00000001 - I haven't heard the slow version, but I do know the dance version and I like the lyrics! Thank you!_

_DreamerChild88 - You've changed your name! I'll keep my fingers crossed, but hopefully you'll find a job too, and then you won't need to worry about that! Mmmmm, marshmallows. That's a fantastic idea!_

_Maraena - It was delightful, wasn't it?! Thank you, though. And I certainly hope the same!_

_Bmangaka - Yup yup, I'm rich and famous. Wait, wake up Cheryl... no, I'm not. But I am on the Radio1 website! lol. And I certainly haven't forgotten that idea - it is certainly getting used. I just want Stella there, and I don't think she can be running around pregnant. But it will be in there - I like that idea!_

_RK9 - I'm sorry, this is the first time I've been on FF for ages! I shall try to get some reading done tomorrow when I'm at work - just don't let my boss know (:P)_

_yellowpea - As you can tell, I have blocked you. Whilst I appreciate the time you took to leave a review, I have grown tired of your unnecessary nastiness. Yes, you don't like my story. No, your opinion is not going to stop me writing._

_Spoilers... any spoilers? Hmmm, well, there are still references to the taxi cab killer - does that count?_

_There are, as always, thanks to my amazing beta, who has again lent me her OC, Cory (who I still haven't done justice to!)_

**

* * *

**

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 224: And when the worrying starts to hurt and the world feels like graves of dirt**

After leaving the parrot sitting in the middle of Riley's room on a makeshift perch, plenty of newspapers lining the floor, Taylor and Riley finally left the house and headed for the nearest subway stop.

Frankly, Taylor didn't have a clue what to do with that one. But, the fact that it was the first time she had seen Riley smile was working in its favor. Instead, she focused on spending her money on essentials, clothes, and things for Riley's new room (ignoring the fact she was going to freak when she saw the credit card bill).

By the late afternoon, their arms were laden with bags and both girls had tired feet. 'Ready to head home?' Taylor asked her.

Riley nodded. 'Have you decided what to do about Mikey?'

'I told you, that one's up to Don.'

'And is he likely to say no?' she pressed.

'I honestly couldn't tell you, Riley. I wouldn't want to say one thing and have him say something completely different.'

'Fine,' Riley pouted.

'What do you want for dinner?' Taylor asked, changing the subject.

Riley shrugged.

Taylor closed her eyes, counting in her head. And, as such, didn't see the other woman walking out of a shop and smacked straight into her. 'Crap,' Taylor muttered, gathering her wits. 'I'm sorry. I didn't see you – SSA Reid?'

The auburn haired Texan frowned as she adjusted the many bags she was carrying. 'It's just Cory,' she told her.

Taylor blinked, her eyes dropping to Cory's hands and the eight Jimmy Choo cardboard bags in them. 'Jesus Christ!' she exclaimed, not so subtly. 'How the hell much does the FBI pay?'

Cory shifted uncomfortably, the bags moving behind her legs. 'They don't.'

Taylor's eyes snapped up to meet Cory's hazel ones. 'What do you mean?'

'I don't work for the FBI anymore,' Cory admitted.

'Why?' Taylor asked in surprise. 'If nothing else, I thought you loved your job.'

'Things change,' Cory told her simply.

'So what do you do now?' Taylor asked.

Cory shrugged. 'Nothing.'

Feeling the ex-FBI agent clam up, Taylor frowned and glanced at Riley who was watching the pair, bored.

'Is that your niece?' Cory asked, seeing Taylor smile at the teen.

Taylor shook her head and then frowned. 'How do you know I have a niece?'

'I did an extensive background check on you,' Cory explained, reddening a little. 'I needed to have as much information on the person running around the crime lab.'

'You say that like I'm a common criminal,' Taylor frowned. 'I have never once-'

'I was perfectly justified in my actions,' Cory interrupted. 'I was just doing my job.'

'I know you were,' Taylor admitted. 'I'm just a little bitter about being shot over it.'

'I'm sorry I didn't visit you in the hospital,' Cory blurted out.

Taylor shrugged. 'Why not? It's not like we're friends.'

Cory's eyes dropped briefly, but she kept her head held high. 'I would have done – I wanted to see how you were, but things got… a little crazy.'

'You don't have to apologize,' Taylor shrugged.

'I know,' Cory sighed. She took in a breath, her gaze drifting to the taxis that still littered the street, despite the fact it was common knowledge that the serial killer plaguing New York was driving one of them. 'They demoted me right back down to "agent", you know,' she told the journalist, unsure as to why she was sharing that information.

Taylor pursed her lips. 'And that's why you quit?'

Cory snapped her attention back at the raven haired woman, her eyes full of passion. 'I quit because the people in charge at the FBI are nothing but petty bureaucrats that couldn't find their _asses_ with both hands, a SatNav and ten foot signs, never mind an actual criminal.'

'Right,' Taylor blinked.

Cory exhaled softly. 'Just call it a difference of opinion.'

Taylor glanced over at Riley, who was staring intently at Cory. 'I think we should be going,' she told the ex-agent.

'Taylor,' Cory called after her as the pair walked away.

Taylor stopped and turned. 'Yes?'

Cory opened her mouth, as if to say something, but instead shook her head gently. 'I'm glad you're alright.'

'Thanks,' Taylor muttered. She turned back in the direction she had been heading and walked away.

They had barely turned the corner before Riley came alive with questions. 'Who was that?' she demanded. 'Is she really a real FBI agent? And were you really shot?'

Taylor cocked her head to look down at the teen. 'That was Cory Reid, and by the sounds of things, she _was_ an FBI agent. And yes, I was shot.'

Riley's eyes widened. 'That's so cool! Where?'

'My… stomach,' Taylor faulted.

'Why?'Riley demanded. 'What did you do?'

Taylor frowned. 'Wrong place, wrong time.'

Riley looked a little disappointed. 'Oh,' she muttered. And then she perked up. 'Does Cory have a gun?'

Taylor's frown deepened. 'Probably. Why?'

'I want a gun,' Riley admitted.

'Excuse me?' Taylor questioned in alarm, praying she hadn't heard that correctly.

'Not now, of course,' Riley shrugged. 'When I'm older. I want to be the American equivalent of James Bond. I want a gun and gadgets and a really cool car!'

Taylor felt her heart skip a beat. 'Are you sure you wouldn't rather do something a little safer, like be a teacher?'

Riley looked up at her, sending her a look which clearly implied she thought Taylor was stupid. 'Are you kidding? I'm probably more likely to be shot that way. At least if I'm a secret agent I can shoot back. They frown upon teachers doing that.'

'You'd be a _teacher_,' Taylor told her. 'You wouldn't _need_ a gun!'

Riley laughed. 'Yeah! Right! Do you know how many kids bring weapons into schools these days?'

Taylor frowned. She'd done the research on that one, and the figures weren't reassuring. However, at fifteen, she was hoping that Riley had been a little more ignorant to the fact.

'There's a boy in my class who carries a Ruger in the belt of his jeans every day,' Riley continued.

Taylor's heart stopped again as she chocked on the information Riley had just supplied. 'How do you know what a Ruger looks like?' she managed in a strangled voice.

Riley shrugged. 'A secret agent needs to know their own weapons as well as the enemies,' she told her, matter-of-factly. 'Besides, if I don't manage to become a secret agent, I want to go into ballistics.'

'Ballistics?' Taylor squeaked.

'Yup,' Riley nodded. 'I was cleaning the windows for the ballistics lab last week, and it looked really interesting. Sheldon explained all about rifling and striae.'

'Oh, he did, did her?' Taylor muttered. 'I shall have to see Sheldon about that.'

---

By the time they had gotten home, Taylor had grown quiet. Riley had shot straight upstairs to see Mikey, whilst Taylor headed into the kitchen and dropped her bags on the counter.

Flack looked up from where he was stirring something meaty and tomatoey in a pan and arched an eyebrow. 'So, I got in earlier and headed upstairs to change. And as I was walking past Riley's bedroom, someone told me _this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do ya punk?_' Flack frowned. 'When a voice tells me that there's a magnum pointed at my back, regardless of whether they're quoting _Dirty Harry_ at me, I tend to panic. You should know that there was very nearly a dead parrot in Riley's room.'

Taylor glanced sheepishly at him. 'I was going to tell you. I just thought we'd be back before you.'

'So, why is there a parrot in Riley's room.'

'His name's Michael Jackson, or Mikey,' Taylor explained. 'And apparently that is what she was doing when she should have been in school. And more importantly than that, we need to get her out of that school.'

Flack leant over the simmering meat bolognaise and gave it a stir before pulling the spoon out. 'Which we agreed we were going to when her semester finished.' He blew on the spoon and held it out for Taylor.

'Because a boy in her class carries a gun instead of books,' Taylor told him.

The spoon was all but slammed on the kitchen counter – the sauce splashing up the still-to-be tiled walls. 'What?' he demanded.

'Exactly,' Taylor fumed.

Flack's eyes narrowed. He glanced at the clock. 'Did Riley tell you the boy's name? Because I'm gonna get Angell on the case. She's on shift tonight.'

Taylor shook her head. 'No, sorry. I was kinda in shock over that revelation.'

Flack nodded. 'I'll go up and speak to her.' He glanced at the bolognaise. 'Do me a favor and put the oven on. I'll get the garlic bread in as soon as I've called Angell.

---

At the knock at her apartment door, Stella hit the pause button on her TiVo, cutting Simon Cowell off mid-sentence, and groaning, eased herself out off her couch and to her feet. With ankles feeling like they were as thick as tree stumps, she shuffled to her front door and peeped out the spy-hole. Grinning, she drew back and opened the door. 'Mac!'

Mac gave her a warm smile. 'Hi, Stell.'

'What are you doing here?' she asked him, stepping back to let him in.

Instead, he stood there, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

'What's the matter?' she asked him with a frown.

'I have something for you,' he admitted. As she gave him a puzzled look, he hesitantly leant in and grabbed her hand, gently pulling her out into the hallway.

Stella's mouth formed an 'oh' as she stared at the present. 'Mac, it's beautiful,' she managed as tears suddenly lined her eyes.

'It's not new,' he told her, glancing at the present. It was a dark mahogany, swinging crib with green bedding. 'But the bedding is. The woman in the store said it would be better with a new mattress in it.'

'It's beautiful,' Stella repeated.

'I just wanted to get you both something. You mentioned you were struggling to find one you like.'

Stella looked at him, surprised that he had been paying attention to the talk she had been having with Lindsay a week ago. 'You were listening?'

'I'm always listening,' he confessed.

'Thank you, Mac,' Stella beamed, leaning over and kissing his cheek. 'It's perfect.' She stared at him, her eyes twinkling. 'Be my baby's godfather.'

Mac's eyes widened. 'Me?'

Stella nodded. 'I can't think of a more perfect person for the job.'

'Stell, I would be honored,' he agreed. 'I guess I should get it inside?' he offered.

'I'm in no condition to be lifting,' Stella grinned. 'You want a coffee and to join me in watching American Idol?'

'You watch that?' Mac asked in surprise as his phone rang. He answered it and within three seconds, Stella knew he wasn't staying.

'You need me?' she asked. 'I'm not on maternity leave yet.'

Mac shook his head. 'We've got a body in a school. But it looks like chemicals were involved and I don't want you _nor_ my godson anywhere near that.'

Stella nodded. 'That's fine. I have my evening entertainment planned out anyway.'

Mac laughed. 'Maternity leave is going to kill you,' he told her as he carried the cot into the nursery.

---

Flack had called Angell straight away she had promised she would find the boy and have him charged before the end of her shift.

By nine o'clock, he, Taylor and Riley, as well as Marty, were in the living room, watching one of the _Scary Movie_'s. Taylor was in the kitchen filling up the popcorn bowl when Maddy appeared, accompanied by a new ghost, as well as those killed by the Taxi Cab Killer.

Unlike the others, this one looked like he had put his face into a blender. Taylor's stomach churned as the ghost managed to tell her to 'stop them.'

'What the hell is he doing to them this time,' she muttered as she put the bowl on the side.

'Um, actually, _chica_, it's a different _he_,' Maddy told her. 'But the others are here until you can give them some closure. And it's better that they're all with me than wandering around by themselves.'

Taylor looked over at the three ghosts whose bodies had been pulled out of the sea and sighed. 'Couldn't Aiden look after them?'

Maddy shook her head, her fake-blonde tresses shaking over her face. 'Nope. Her job is to protect you, and these guys aren't going to hurt you. Besides,' she added. 'She's on a date.'

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'She's what?'

Maddy grinned. 'Yup, although she's given me strict instructions not to bug her. Spoil sport.

'Who with?' she asked. 'Eirik?'

'Nope,' Maddy replied. 'Don't get me wrong, Eirik's a hottie in his own right, but this _chico_ is mucho hotter. In that dark and brooding self. He's kind of one of those Guardian Angels type.

'What's taking you so long with the popcorn,' Marty asked, joining her in the kitchen. He stopped when he saw her staring at "nothing". 'Ah,' he sighed. 'I guess I'm babysitting tonight?'

'Don's still here,' she told him.

'Don's gotten the call,' Flack told her from the doorway. 'I'm off to Nathanson Academy.'

Taylor turned back to Marty. 'Yeah, you're babysitting.'

* * *

_Right, first of all, sorry for the disappearing act, guys. You know how real life gets. Plus, the muses have been urging me to write on my orginal pieces._

_Which kind of leads me to something - bear with me on this._

_I have recently discovered that someone had been posting this story as their own on Mibba - and managed to get away with nearly 100 chapters. You'd think I'd be pissed, but I'm not. I'm really finding it amusing. And flattering. Because with all the 'jokes' that have been going on this site, it at least showed that she liked it. So if you've appeared from Mibba - welcome, and no I'm probably not going to be posting this over there for a good while yet. Sorry. And no, I didn't steal the story from her. It's mine._

_In terms of Mibba, I'm using it to post my own original pieces - not by big epic (yup, I have an original one of those going too!) - because that's being saved for hardback publication. Hey, I'm determined, lol! However, if you want to have a gander at the stuff, there's a link on my profile page. Also, there's a link to my account on FictionPress (the sister site to this one) where the stories are also posted if you prefer to read it in FF format._

_Okay, enough twittering on. I bid you adeu, and I shall try to wirte plenty more for you!_

_Oh, wait, I've just realised something - a lot of you might be getting your exam results in the next couple of days - GOOD LUCK!!!_


	226. We Don't Need No Education

_natabrains - Cory will be around a little while longer - there's still some things that need to be wrapped up! Yes, she is on a date - cookies if you can guess who with!_

_BlueEyedGunSlinger - Hey! Thanks for sticking it out - 5 days?! I'm glad you're enjoying it!!_

_yellowpea - how about you and your not-so-subtle friends take a hike now? This is old._

_Bmangaka - Hmm, I thought I had linked that directly, but FF doesn't seem to like that idea! If you go to DJs & shows - Chris Moyles breakfast show - at the bottom there's a section called 'the best bits' and 'to Hull and Back. In there there's a picture of a girl on a mic - not me... I'm the person stood behind her! Righto, Riley's babysitting! You must have had your results by now - I hope you did well!_

_demolished-soul - We will see more of her! LOL, I'm in complete denial about that episode too!!_

_TVjunkie323 - I need to write more with those... again! (But I'll keep sending you new chapters when I have them written!!) I think you're right about the secret agent thing_

_Trizzy - He will not be going crazy! I shall find the story (work permitting, today!) - and happy dance, the new season is out now!!! Yummy! I couldn't handle the circus, so there's no need to worry about that!_

_sparkyCSI - Hey stranger - I hope life's calming down for you - sorry for going ahead and posting this, but for once I had some time on my hands!! I am DJing a wedding on Sat night, so I may be sparsely available then?_

_Maraena - Thank you - and I'm sorry to keep you waiting!_

_meadow567 - I did make you wait - I'm sorry! I'll try harder for the next update!!_

_ambercsiny - I hope it comes back to you soon too! I like the parrot too - it gives me an excuse to attempt to being funny!_

_Spoilers... 4x18: Admissions. And I was going to wait for my beta but I had to be in work 2 hours earlier than normal to let someone in the building (I'm still waiting!!) so I got bored. Basically, all mistakes are mine!_

**

* * *

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 225: We Don't Need No Education**

Nathanson Academy was a six story building located just a block away from the south end of Central Park. Even from the outside it screamed money. Inside, with its state of the art equipment and marble floors, that fact was evident.

Taylor spun on the spot, inhaling deeply. The place even _smelt_ of money. 'Wow. We could _never_ afford to send Riley here,' she muttered regrettably.

'Don't give up just yet,' Flack told her. 'A murdered teacher is likely to drop tuition fees. I mean, who would want to send their kids here now?'

'And that is precisely why we want to keep the information of this incident to a minimum,' a crisp voice informed him. Taylor turned to meet a short stocky woman wearing an elegant grey suit, glaring up at them, her hands on her hips.

'Of course,' Flack agreed, smoothly. 'Now what can you tell us about the victim,' he asked, getting straight to business.

Taylor gave him a smile and nodded her head in the other direction, mouthing, '_Catch you in a while.'_

Flack returned the comment with a wink as he scribbled notes from what the woman was saying.

---

Flack looked up as Taylor entered the crime scene a while later with Mac. 'Hi Mac. Our vic is Robert Greggs. He's a guidance councilor. Divorced, no kids. He also chaperoned the dance and played key master.'

Mac nodded and walked over. 'Who discovered the body?' he asked as he crouched down beside it to peer at the skin damage on the victim's face.

Flack frowned. 'An unfortunate student came in looking for his keys and boom!'

Mac looked up at the detective with an eyebrow arched in amusement. 'Boom? You and Danny have been working together too long,' he smiled as Flack smirked at him. His face turned somber as he returned his attention to the body, half buried in a destroyed refrigeration unit. 'This guy took a hell of a beating. Witnesses?'

'No one's come forward yet,' Flack informed him, shaking his head. 'But we have a gym full of potential suspects right next door.'

Mac rose to his feet and looked in the direction Flack was indicating. Silently, he walked out of the room and into the centre of the chaotic gym where, despite the fact their prom had come to an abrupt end, few students had ceased in their partying. 'Behold. The future,' he said, gesturing with his hands.

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Future suspects, more like,' she muttered.

Mac looked over and frowned. 'I know it's only been a week, but you're going to make progress with Riley, you know. You've just got to realize that you're not going to get results overnight.'

'Oh, I know that,' Taylor sighed. 'But it doesn't give you much hope, does it?'

'What's that?' Flack asked.

Taylor shrugged. 'Well, look at us. We are stood in one of the top five private schools in Manhattan and lying on the ground in front of us is a guy, a teacher no less, who's missing half his face, was beaten before he died, and the prime suspects are kids.'

'It doesn't happen in every school, Taylor,' Mac pointed out. 'Besides, we have no evidence yet to say that it wasn't a child. It could just have easily have been another teacher. Or a complete stranger. We can't jump to conclusions just yet.'

Taylor nodded. 'I know.'

'Right,' said Mac, looking around at the glammed-up teens. 'Do you want a hand interviewing?' he asked Flack.

Flack nodded. 'That would be great.'

Mac glanced over at Taylor. 'And you...'

'Stay out of mischief?' Taylor offered.

Mac nodded and walked off, leaving Flack giving Taylor a confused look. 'How the hell did you just do that?'

Taylor shrugged. 'I don't know, but I'm not going to push it. I'll go see if Sheldon's here. We need to have words.'

---

She found Hawkes and Danny with the body, pulling the fridge and shelves off him. 'Clue of the day: we're looking for a _them_.'

Danny looked up from the bunch of keys in his hand. 'And do these _them_ have any names?'

'Dude, do you have any idea how grammatically incorrect that was?' Taylor laughed. 'It's a good job we're stood in a school. Maybe we can get you to attend a few classes while you're here.'

'Drew,' Danny said, rolling his eyes.

'Phosphoric acid, sulphuric acid, hydrochloric acid,' Hawkes listed as he read the labels on the bottle.

'And they couldn't have kept the keys in the English room?' Taylor smiled. 'And then there'd be a dictionary to hand for Danny.'

'So I could launch it at you, smart ass,' he retorted, although he was grinning.

'So which one of those delightful acids melted this guy's face off?' Taylor asked.

Hawkes held up a fourth bottle. 'Hydrofluoric acid. Trace amounts of this on the skin can eat away at it without you even noticing it. Half a bottle of this spills on your face..." Hawkes trailed off, pulling a face.

Taylor frowned. 'Why would you even put something that dangerous in a high school lab?'

'Perhaps,' Hawkes suggested, holding up a piece of the destroyed refrigerator. 'Its ability to dissolve glass.'

'It's commonly used in glass etching,' Danny explained.

Hawkes walked over to the whiteboard and picked up the dry erase marker. 'Silicon oxide, plus four molecules of hydrofluoric acid produces...'

Taylor stared at the board, frowning, whilst Danny stuck his hand in the air. 'Oh! Me, me, me!' he cried, like a small schoolboy. 'Pick me!'

Hawkes grinned and held out the pen, smiling proudly. The smile slowly vanished as he read what Danny had written.

_SiO__2__ + 4HF - N(e)R(d)_

'That's cold, man,' he told him.

Danny grinned at him and walked back over to the body, winking at Taylor, who was smiling. Hawkes rolled his eyes and continued collecting trace.

Taylor looked at the problem, frowning. Whilst the other two were preoccupied, she picked up the pen. Using the side of her fist, she rubbed out Danny's "attempts" and filled it in with her own. _SiF__4__ + H__2__O._ Silently, she put the pen down and headed for the door. 'I'm going to find Don. I'll catch you later.' She paused and glanced back at Hawkes. 'Oh, and stop putting ideas into Riley's head, or you'll be answering to me,' she informed him as she disappeared.

'See you,' Hawkes called out to her retreating back, frowning slightly. He looked up, glancing at the board, and his frown disappeared into a smile. 'Hey, Danny.'

Danny looked up and found Hawkes pointing at the whiteboard over his shoulder. He turned, expecting a smart ass comment to be written on it, but instead found the solution to the problem. With a grin, he turned back to Hawkes. 'She's learning.'

Hawkes nodded. 'That she is.'

---

Taylor headed back to the decorated gym. The students were still milling around, looking more put out that their event had come to an early end, rather than looking upset at the fact one of their teachers had met an untimely and gruesome end. The balloons on the ground floated out of her way as she walked across the floor to where Flack was interviewing a student.

'Mr Greggs was an inspiring mentor,' the student was saying. 'The kind of man I'd like to be in twenty years, only making fifty times more money.' Taylor caught Flack's eye as she stepped up beside him. He was trying desperately not to roll his eyes at the kid. 'It is sad when such a young life is taken from us before-'

'Stop,' said Flack, finally unable to hold back on the eye rolling. 'Just stop.'

The kid sighed, looking put out, but turned and walked away.

'Are these kids for real?' Flack asked, turning to Taylor, still rolling his eyes.

Taylor shrugged. 'At least he's not calling you "dude",' she pointed out.

Flack shuddered. 'That's true.' He looked up as Mac and Lindsay joined them.

'What do you know?' Mac asked.

'I think we're looking at a fairly short window of opportunity,' Flack told him. 'Most of the kids remember the vic introducing the class president.'

Lindsay nodded. 'At one point during her speech, she referenced Mr Greggs. He wasn't in the gym.' She held up an iPhone. 'One student snapped this photo at exactly 22:18.' She handed the phone over to Mac to show him the picture.

"Alive at ten eighteen,' Mac looked up at Flack. 'At what time was the body found.'

'Approximately ten thirty,' he replied.

'A twelve minute window,' Mac frowned. 'It's possible he left the gym with someone during that twelve minute period.'

Taylor nodded. 'I think you're definitely looking for a "someone else".'

There was a moment of silence before Lindsay held the phone up. 'I'm going to collect these. It's possible that if the students didn't see anything, that their cell phones did.' She disappeared as Mac's phone began to ring.

'Excuse me,' Mac muttered, also walking away to take the call.

Taylor yawned, stretching her neck out. 'You look tired,' Flack told her

'I am,' she admitted. 'Guilt.'

Flack sighed and led her to one side. 'You and your guilt complex,' he sighed. 'What are you feeling guilty over this time?'

'That there's a serial killer on the loose, and his victims have been hanging around the house. They keep quoting something at me and I have no idea what it is.'

'Tay, firstly, it's my job, not your job to catch the killer. Secondly, have you tried Googling this thing they're quoting.'

Taylor's mouth flapped open. 'No,' she realised. 'Actually, no I haven't.'

Flack grinned. 'Sometimes I'm too smart for my own good,' he announced.

Taylor swiped at his arm and was about to make a wise-ass remark in return, but was distracted by Mac bursting through the door by the side of them, shouting into his phone. Taylor shared a look with Flack as Mac ended the call with a vicious stab to the button.

'Sinclair?' Flack asked.

Mac nodded, face as black as thunder. 'Every five minutes it's someone else. Half the brass wants me working the cab driver serial.'

'But, unfortunately, you've got a murder at an elite prep school whose alumni contribute half the Mayor's campaign funds?' Flack offered.

'And then there's the fact that Deputy Inspector Gerrard's daughter is a student here,' Taylor added sympathetically.

'And until we catch this cab driver, my phone's not going to stop ringing,' Mac frowned.

Flack held his hands up. 'It's just a matter of time,' he said reassuringly. 'I've got uniforms conducting taxi check points throughout the five boroughs, flyers distributed to dispatchers, on footbridges and overpasses in case he decides to dump another victim.'

'And you've got me,' Taylor added, hoping that google would produce an answer. Mac looked positively exhausted.

Mac nodded thoughtfully. 'Maybe we need to use the media,' he said, clearly reading Taylor's offer of help differently to what she was trying to imply. 'The public already know we're looking for a cab rigged to allow the flow of carbon monoxide to pump into the passenger compartment.' He looked at Taylor thoughtfully. 'Tell them about the disabled rear door locks and the torn passenger Bill of Rights sticker. But don't mention the marks he leaves on the back of the victim's necks.'

Taylor nodded. 'What about the tarps he wraps the victims in. Any leads on that yet?'

Mac gave her a look. '_You're_ gonna start riding my ass now?'

Taylor held her hands up. 'I'm not starting anything,' she told him. 'Other than the journey to the _Daily_, because I should have enough time to make the first edition.' She stood on her toes to kiss Flack. 'I'll see you at some point tomorrow,' she sighed.

---

Taylor walked up to her office, rubbing her eyes. It was well past midnight and she was exhausted. She'd called Marty on the way there, who coincidentally wasn't impressed that she'd woken him, but he did offer to take Riley to school in the morning before he had to be in for work. She sat down at her desk and opened a fresh document.

'What are you doing here?' a heavily accented voice broke the silence. 'Do you have an exclusive?'

Taylor looked up finding Nancy there, her appearance immaculate as always. 'You're still here?' she asked in surprise. The building was far from deserted. It remained permanently unlocked because writers were coming and going at all hours. However, Alex, when he had been editor, had never stayed later than eight on a Saturday night, although they also never used to produce a Sunday edition.

'When the news sleeps, so will I,' Nancy informed her, strolling in.

Taylor eyed her suspiciously. Somehow, she didn't think that was too far from the truth. 'Actually, I do have an exclusive,' she told her boss, filling her in on the information Mac had given her.

Nancy gave her an approving smile. 'It's good to see that some freedom in the crime lab is productive. Keep it up. And give Reed a call. This should be on the web A-SAP.'

Taylor waited for the woman to leave the room before rooting her iPhone out of her pocket and dialling Reed's number.


	227. And I don't know where to look, My words

_Hi there folks! My name's Cheryl - I don't know if you remember me, but once upon a time I started writing this story. Then a lot of craziness happened, and despite the fact I was determined not to let it stop me, the craziness may have scared of the muses. But I still love this story and I still have a lot left to say, so unfortunately for some, I'm back... with two whole chapters for ya!!_

_TVjunkie323 - Is that a cry for the Winchester brothers to come back? (:D) No, i don't like Nancy, but I'm not sure what I'm going to do with her - I keep changing my mind!_

_CrazySkittles - A week? I keep forgetting how long this actually is - so thank you for seeing it through!! I hope you continue to like it!_

_BlueEyedGunSlinger - I'm really impressed, so thanks again! Sorry to keep you waiting!_

_Bmangaka - Yeah you did! Congratulations!! I hope your new courses aren't keeping you from having a life!_

_Trizzy - OMG, did you see last week's SPN?? I personally think it's the funniest episode I've seen to date!!! You're right - it was a fantabulous episode!_

_sparkyCSI - Stranger!! I feel like I haven't spoken in ages! I must write you an email to say hey! Have you seen much of Lexi?_

_Wolfsong98 - Don't worry - real life keeps hitting me too! I'm just glad you're still reading!!_

_DreamerChild88 - LOL, I definately liked Danny's answer!_

_meadow567 - Were you thinking about how slack I've been at updating?!_

_Spoilers... well, it's still Admissions! And of course, big thanks to my wonderful beta, sparky!_

**

* * *

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**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 226: And I don't know where to look, My words just break and melt, Please just save me from this darkness**

Taylor sat up with a start as her phone started blasting Rick Springfield's _Jessie's Girl_. She sat up with a start, scrambling for the phone. It wasn't until she had it in her hands that she discovered that it wasn't ringing, but instead the music player had kicked in.

From the other side of the room, cloaked in darkness, the only light coming from his monitor, Reed was looking at her with a weird expression. 'Into the eighties?' he asked her.

'What time is it?' she asked instead of answering the question.

'A little after ten,' he told her. 'You've been out for a couple of hours. Can't say it looks comfortable,' he added.

Taylor stared at him, open mouthed. 'After ten?' She looked over at the drawn blinds. 'What are you? A mogwia?'

'A what?' Reed asked, staring blankly at her.

Taylor gave him an incredulous look before rising from her head. 'Do me a favour and wake me next time,' she told him, before she left the office, heading for the bathroom.

One safely inside, she quickly gave herself a once over, reapplying her mascara, and left. On the sidewalk she paused, and instantly two cabs pulled up in front of her. Taylor shut her eyes and took a breath. The chances of the cab killer being the driver of her cab was ridiculously slim... but then again, if she got out of one in front of the precinct, there were probably going to be several other people in line to kill her.

She gave a polite smile and shook her head, before heading to the crowded subway. It was a relief to come topside, and she took her time walking to the crime lab, enjoying the warm morning.

She was heading to Mac's office to let him know the information had not only made the first edition, but was also front page and safely on the internet when she was distracted by something on a screen in a lab. She stuck her head around a door. 'Is that what I think it is?' she asked Hawkes

Hawkes looked at the screen. 'Well, if you think it's peyote, then yes.'

'Where the hell did you find that?' she asked, wandering into the lab.

Hawkes shrugged. 'Someone was growing their own magic garden.'

'Right under the faculty's nose,' Danny added.

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'You found drugs in the school.'

'We actually found a garden of weed and 'shrooms,' Danny told her. 'It was being grown in the science lab.'

'Sometimes too much education can be a dangerous thing. Lindsay found a flask in the vic's pocket, so we got drugs _and_ alcohol,' Hawkes informed her.

'Well, Riley's not going there,' Taylor muttered.

'You know you're probably going to find drugs and alcohol in most schools, hiding in someone's locker. Hell, I went to a private school and _I_ knew where to score,' Hawkes told her.

'Oh, don't say that,' Taylor exclaimed.

Danny pulled a face. 'You're telling me _you_ didn't know where you could get a joint?'

Taylor returned the look. 'I'm the reason our school dealer didn't get his GED.'

'You ratted him out?' Hawkes asked, laughing. 'You should have been a cop.'

Danny was staring at her with a cocked head. 'I bet you were a right goody-goody at school.'

'I was not a goody-goody!' Taylor objected. 'I just had a strong moral sense of right and wrong.'

Danny looked at Hawkes before grinning at Taylor. 'You were a goody two shoes.'

'Yes,' Taylor agreed dryly. 'Didn't drink, didn't smoke.'

'Write it on a pound note, pound note,' Hawkes sang. 'What?' he asked the two of them when they each gave him an incredulous look. 'You knew it was coming!'

'And from that little gem, onto another one,' Danny said, clearing his throat. He held up a pair of tweezers. Between the points at the end was a little green gem.

'Which places our royal couple at the crime scene,' Hawkes smiled. 'Looks like we've got our king pin.'

'And whilst you go track him down, I'm going to find Mac,' Taylor informed them.

She found him in his office. Or rather, she heard the one sided argument halfway down the corridor. She reached his door as he slammed his phone on the desk. 'Mac?,' she called softly, pushing the door open. 'You alright?'

Mac scowled. 'Same old, same old with the bosses. "Why haven't I dragged someone in on the taxi serial"?'

Taylor walked into his office. 'Meanwhile the mayor wants you focused on the prep school homicide.'

Mac nodded. 'The faster we can solve that case, the faster we can put more resources into the cab killer.'

'Well I have some good news on that front,' she said. 'The taxi cab killer, I mean. The extra info made the first edition. Reed's forums have apparently lit up.'

'Thank you, Taylor,' Mac sighed, sitting back in his chair and shutting his eyes.

Taylor watched him for a moment, biting her lip. 'Mac, are you sure it's just the serial killer thing that's bugging you?'

Mac opened his eyes and gave her a smile. 'I'm fine Taylor. Don't worry about me.'

Taylor returned the smile. 'Catch you later,' she said cheerily, backing out of the room, despite the fact she didn't quite believe them

---

Taylor pulled up outside Riley's school, early for once, and settled back into her seat to wait. She had just selected a tune to listen to on her iPhone when the sound suddenly went staticy, cutting off _Supernova_. Taylor frowned and leant forward to check the connection between the phone and the radio jack. She was twiddling the dial when a voice made her jump.

'Stop them.'

She let out a yelp, slipped, and sounded the horn, earning her some strange look from the surrounding foot traffic - both dead and alive. Swearing loudly, she turned in her seat to glare at the two ghosts in the back seat. 'I am selling this damn car and buying a two-seater, Maddy!'

'Yeah, yeah,' Maddy said, rolling her eyes.

'_And she's watching him with those eyes  
__And she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it  
__And he's holding her in his arms, late, late at night  
__You know that I wish I had Jessie's girl-'_

Taylor launched herself at the radio to turn down the music which had suddenly come blasting out. 'I swear to God this phone is on the skitz,' she muttered to herself. She turned back to Maddy. 'What did you do with the other guys?'

'You mean them?' Maddy asked, nodding out of the window at the four ghosts who were all staring solemnly at Taylor.

Taylor sighed. 'Yeah, them. Never mind. I've got to remember to get on the internet later. Actually...' she trailed off as she pulled the iPhone towards her and opened up the web browser. She was about to type the google address when the radio started blasting out _Jessie's Girl_ again. 'What the?!' she exclaimed staring in amazement at the contraption in her hand.

She turned the radio off and looked up, ready to throw the phone on the dashboard. And then everything was forgotten as she spotted a familiar blonde teenager walking towards the school in front of her. Taylor glanced at the clock as the ghosts disappeared (Maddy muttering, _I'll leave you to do some parenting_). Riley had clearly been cutting class, quite likely with the very tall, much-older-looking-than-fifteen year old guy whose arm she was hanging off. Even from this angle, Taylor could see that his hand was in Riley's back pocket. And to top it off, in Riley's free hand was a cigarette.

It wasn't until Taylor had stormed over to them, her door slamming shut behind her, and was merely a few paces from them that Riley even realised she was there. 'Shit!' she exclaimed, leaping away from the guy as if he was on fire, and flicking the cigarette away.

'I'll give you _shit_ Riley James,' Taylor snapped at her. 'Because you are knee deep in it. Get in that car right now.'

'Taylor, it's not what it looks like,' Riley told her.

'Get in the car,' Taylor growled through her teeth. She turned on the guy. 'And who are you?' she demanded.

'Leave him alone,' Riley cried.

Taylor rounded on the teen. 'You're cutting school to be with a guy who looks like he's old enough to be paying taxes!' She turned back to him. 'Well?'

'It's none of your business,' he told her.

'Oh, it is now,' Taylor informed him. 'And if you know what's best, you will stay clear of this _teenager_.'

'Taylor!' Riley cried in embarrassment. 'Just leave it.'

'Does he know how old you are?' Taylor asked them both. 'Because you are-'

'Oh, go tell someone who cares,' the guy told her, turning and walking away.

'And you _keep_ walking,' Taylor yelled at his back.

The guy flipped her the bird before disappearing around the corner.

Taylor turned to Riley, her face like thunder. 'You had better have some good ass reason as to why you're skipping school.'

'Bite me!' Riley exclaimed, storming over to the car.

'I beg your pardon?' Taylor cried, hurrying after her.

Riley ignored her and got in the car, slamming the door behind her.

For the entire journey home, Taylor ignored the teenager, who was doing just as good a job of ignoring her in the car's silence. They pulled up outside the house and, as soon as the car was parked, Riley stormed out of the car and into the house.

'Riley James you can stop _right_ there,' Taylor bellowed at the teen who was halfway up the stairs.

Riley continued marching up them. 'Leave me alone, Taylor.'

'Not until you tell me who that boy was.'

'He's none of your business,' Riley yelled back at her.

'I think you'll find he is my business when he's twice as old as you are!' Taylor informed her, still shouting.

'You're not my mother!' Riley shouted.

'No, but I am in charge,' Taylor bellowed. 'Who is he?'

'None of your God damn business,' Riley roared, entering her room and slamming her door behind her.

Taylor glared up the stairs, flustered. 'Get in your room!' she yelled.

The door opened. 'I'm already in my room,' Riley shouted back.

'Well you can stay there, because you are grounded.'

'I'm already grounded!' the response came, through the door.

'Well don't expect to come out any time this millennium.' Taylor sank to the step and put her head in her hands. From upstairs she could hear Mikey squawking _Lucy, you've got some splainin' to do._

'What's up with you?'

Taylor looked up at Marty who was standing in the door way, staring down at her like she had gone mad. 'Teenagers,' she responded shortly.

'Ah,' he said, simply.

Taylor gave him a small smile, which quickly turned into a frown. 'Marty, are you alright? You look... tired.'

Marty shrugged. 'Just working a lot. Need the money,' he explained shortly.

Taylor nodded. 'Fair enough. Just don't work yourself to the bone.'

Marty gave her a smile which for a moment actually looked sad. But as quickly had Taylor had registered that, it was gone. 'I'm going to bed,' he told her. 'I'm back in at midnight.' He squeezed past her and carried on upstairs.

With a sigh, Taylor rose to her feet and followed him upstairs, stopping at Riley's door. She knocked and walked in. Riley was lying in the middle of her bed, glaring up at the ceiling with her arms folded, her iPod plugged into her ears. Taylor could hear the music from the doorway. She rolled her eyes and pulled the iPod out. 'Don't get comfortable,' Taylor told her, her anger still lingering. 'You're due at the Crime Lab. Get changed.'

---

Stella walked down the corridor, truly feeling like she was waddling, her hand pressed to her back. She'd escaped the morning sickness and the swollen ankles, and sure she'd had some weird cravings, but the back pain was a killer. It was almost enough to call in on the early maternity leave and stay at home with her feet up. Almost. But Stella hadn't let many a thing beat her in the past, and she sure as hell wasn't about to let her son get the upper hand before he was even born. No, she had just over a week of work left before she had to take the maternity leave, and she was going to enjoy every miserable second she was confined to the lab.

She walked into the break room, smelling the coffee and again cursing the fact she couldn't drink the real stuff, headed for the fridge. As she pulled the lid off and took a mouthful of bottled water, she realised she wasn't alone. Riley was sat at the table, legs swinging slightly as she listened to her iPod, her head bent over some papers. 'What are you reading?' Stella asked, coming to sit next to her.

Riley jumped up with a start, yanking the ear buds out. 'I'm sorry! I was just having a break!'

Stella held her hands up. 'It's fine. You can have a break. We don't expect you to clean for two hours solid,' she gave the teen a smile. 'You'd lose your mind.'

Hesitantly, Riley eased back into the seat. 'Oh.'

'What are you doing?' Stella asked, trying to peer at the papers. She had just worked out she was staring at a sketch of Adam running a trace analysis, when the papers were whipped off the table and into Riley's bag.

'It's nothing,' Riley told her.

Stella stared at the teen, who simply looked guilty. Well, she'd been filled in on the details by Taylor who had only just gone home after a twenty minute rant. 'Is that the same nothing that's associated with your boyfriend.'

Riley let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes.

Stella shrugged at her. 'You don't have to tell me anything, but if you want a friend you can trust, then you can talk to me. I know what it's like when you're in care and you don't feel like you can talk to anyone.'

Riley shot her a curious stare. '_You_ were in care?'

Stella nodded. 'I didn't leave until I went to college either. Look, I'm not going to push you into doing something you don't want to, but if ever need anything, you give me a call.' She pulled a card out of her pocket and scribbled something on the back. 'I'm going on maternity leave soon, but that's my address. You can try me there.'

Riley took the card off her, staring at the information on it.

Stella placed her hand on Riley's shoulder. 'You're not alone, kid. Remember that.' And then she left, leaving the teenager frowning at the piece of card.

* * *

_Cookies to all of you who can spot all the eighties references (and probably made you feel old!)_


	228. We have got through so much worse than

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 227: We have got through so much worse than this before**

Taylor awoke early to the motion of the bed pressing down on the other side. She rolled over and stretched. 'You're in late,' she yawned.

'Long night,' Flack told her, pulling her to him. 'We followed a lead and ended up in a laundrette with a new suspect.'

'Let me guess, he was clean?' Taylor asked.

Flack shook his head, missing her pun. 'Far from it. He had a little gambling ring going on inside the washing machines,'

'You really need to get some sleep,' Taylor mumbled into him.

'Gerrard's daughter got pulled in for questioning,' Flack added.

Taylor moved back slightly to look at Flack's face. His expression was serious. 'Really? You think she killed her teacher?'

Flack shook his head. 'No, but we thought she knew something.'

'Did she?'

Flack sighed. 'Actually, I think she may have been having an affair with the vic.'

'But she's a kid!' Taylor exclaimed. 'What the hell is it with girls dating guys so much older than them?'

'Girls?' Flack queried after a moment's pause.

'Oh, Riley smokes and she has a much older boyfriend.'

Flack inhaled deeply. 'How much older?'

'She's a minor, he's not,' Taylor said shortly.

"And what did you do?' Flack asked her.

Taylor frowned at him. 'I grounded her for life,' Taylor said as though that was the most rational explanation.

'We'll sit down and have a talk with her this weekend. Lay down some official house rules.'

'Are you saying that I shouldn't have grounded her?' Taylor asked in surprise.

'No,' Flask replied calmly. 'I'm saying that we never sat down and told her what we thought was acceptable behaviour, what wasn't, and what we expect of her. Now, can we discuss this later, Taylor?' he asked wearily.

Taylor nodded and settled back into the bed. She lay there awake until just before her alarm was set to go off. Moving slowly so as not to disturb Flack, who was frowning in his sleep, she slid out of the bed and stopped the alarm from going off and quietly got dressed. On her way down the stairs, she stuck her head into Riley's room to make sure she was up.

The ride to Riley's school was painfully quiet, despite the iPod playing softly in the background. As far as Taylor was concerned she was grateful to arrive at the school and drop her off.

She was pulling away when the temperature dipped. With a frustrated sigh, she half turned her head and smiled at the ghost of the dead guidance councillor. 'I'm going to the precinct now,' she told him.

'You have to stop them,' he told her.

'I know,' she told him, rubbing at the corner of her eye with her middle finger.

'_I wish I had Jessie's girl...'_

Taylor leant over turned her iPhone off. 'I swear I deleted that song yesterday,' she grumbled to herself. She turned to the ghost of Robert. 'I'm really going.'

'How'd the disciplining go?' Maddy asked her.

'She's grounded,' Taylor shrugged.

'Like that stopped me.'

'Don't you have a couple of murder victims to supervise?' Taylor shot back at her.

Maddy held her hands up. 'Jeeze, take it out on the dead, why don't you, _chica_?' she complained to Taylor before taking the hint and disappearing.

Taylor made her way back into Manhattan and called in at McDonalds for a couple of breakfast meals on her way to the precinct. She had heard Flack moving about in the bedroom as she left the house and figured he had gone straight into the precinct. If it was her boss in the same situation, she would have done the same thing.

She frowned. Alright, if it was _Alex_ she would have done the same thing. Nancy, maybe not so much.

She gathered the bag of food and drinks in her arms and fought her way into the precinct, trying to protect the breakfast meals from Davis and Sully who were tyring to steal it from her. She ducked under their arms, twirling past, and dashed into the detective's shared area.

Flack wasn't at his desk, but Grace was sat opposite.

'You bought me breakfast?' she said, smiling.

Taylor forced a smile and, feeling guilty, handed her breakfast over to the blonde detective. 'Where is Don?' she asked, trying to keep herself from ripping the bacon and egg McMuffin back off her.

'In with a suspect,' Grace said, before taking a big bite.

Taylor got to her feet. 'Tell him this was for him, assuming it's not too cold when he's done,' she told her. She took one last, longing look at her breakfast and walked away. 'I'm too nice,' she muttered under her breath.

She was mid way through the door when a shortish, balding man with glasses came bursting through the door, Bosco trying desperately to stop him.

'Where's my son?' he demanded angrily. 'I want to see my son! Where the hell is he?'

'Hey!' Bosco retorted, still not having managed to learn a degree of self restraint. 'Calm down!'

The man glared at him as he continued to try and work his way past him. 'No, I will not calm down. I want to talk to my son.'

'It's okay, Bosco,' came Flack's voice as he made his way over to step between the two men. 'Can I help you sir?'

'I'm Jesse's father. Is he in there?' the man demanded. 'What are you doing to him?'

'We're not doing anything to him, Mr.?' Flack asked.

'Wallace Carver,' the man told him. 'Now I want all questions to stop. I've called a lawyer and he's on his way.'

'Mr Carver, your son is not a suspect,' Flack assured him calmly. 'We're just asking him some questions.'

'Yeah, I'm sure it's been very cordial,' Mr. Carver agreed, sarcasm lacing his tone. 'Is he under arrest?' he demanded.

'Now just hold-' Flack started.

Mr. Carver cut him off. 'Then I am taking my son home,' he informed him, before stepping around him to where his son was waiting.

'You look tired,' Taylor said, joining Flack.

'I'll be happier when this case is wrapped up,' Flack admitted. 'I just have a really bad feeling.'

'I need to get to the office,' Taylor sighed. 'But if you get the chance come by?'

'I doubt I'll get the chance unless we wrap this case up early. We need a new lead. You have anything?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Just that there were two of them involved.'

---

Taylor was sat her desk, rolling her head around her neck to stretch out her muscles as she tried to write something about the Taxi Cab Killer. Nancy had decided that Taylor and Reed needed to come up with something new. Which was exceptionally hard considering the CSIs had nothing new, neither did the ghosts, and there, thankfully, hadn't been another killing.

'I think the AC is shot,' Reed said suddenly.

Taylor looked over at him, spotting the group of ghosts standing around them, before she saw him rubbing at his arms. 'It's only the beginning of April. We don't need it on, really. Why don't you go grab a coffee or something?'

Reed nodded. 'Good idea. You want?'

Taylor shook her head, watching him leave, before turning to the collection of ghosts. After thinking that there hadn't been a new victim from the Taxi Cab Killer, she was almost too scared to count the ghosts, less she had jinxed it and he'd struck again. Thankfully, their numbers hadn't increased.

'You have to stop them,' the ghost of Robert told them.

Taylor sighed. 'You keep telling me that, but you don't give me anything to go on,' she told him.

All of a sudden, the office burst into music. Blasting from both the computers, as well as her phone, completely in sync, came Rick Springfield.

'What the hell?' Taylor cried as she went to yank her speakers from the tower. Only, when the cable was removed, the music continued to play. She stared in amazement at the cable in her hands, before her gaze fell on Greg. 'This is you, isn't it?' she shouted over the music.

The music hushed some. 'You have to stop them,' the ghost repeated.

'Stop who?' Taylor asked.

'_I wish that I had Jessie's Girl...'_

Taylor's head fell to the desk. 'I can't believe I haven't picked up on this sooner,' she mumbled into the old oak. Her head lifted from the table. 'Alright, I get it, you can kill the music,' she told the ghost as Reed appeared.

She looked over at her office companion. He was standing in the doorway, cup of coffee in one hand, his mouth hanging open at the music blasting into the room.

The ghosts disappeared, taking the music with them.

'What is it with you and that song?' he asked, sitting back down behind his desk to examine his computer.

Taylor just shrugged.

'My speakers aren't even turned on,' he told her, eyeing her suspiciously.

'Don't look at me,' Taylor told him. 'I was sat over here when that stopped playing.'

Reed frowned. 'I swear this office is haunted sometimes.'

'You have no idea,' Taylor muttered under her breath as she dialled Flack's number. 'Hey,' she said when he answered. 'You need to get Jesse back in.'

There was a deep inhalation of breath down the phone. '_What do you know?'_

Taylor shook her head, even though he couldn't see her. 'Honestly, not a clue. But if I have to listen to _Jessie's Girl_ one more time, I may go mad.'

'_Lindsay's in with Natalie Gerrard at the moment.'_

'And?' Taylor pushed.

'_He raped her.'_

Taylor's mouth dropped open. 'Who did?'

'_Jesse.'_

'Oh hell,' Taylor muttered.

'_I should go. I should find Jesse and haul his ass in. I'll see you later. Love you.'_

'Love you too,' Taylor told him.

---

Lindsay walked into the door and locked it behind her, making sure that the safety bolts were in place. Wearily she walked into the living room, surprised to find it lit by a few dozen candles. Waiting for her, in the middle of the room, was Danny, holding out a bottle of Budweiser.

'What's this for?' Lindsay asked in surprise, taking the ice cold beer out of his hand.

'Because I know you've had a bit of a crappy day.'

'Understatement,' Lindsay sighed as she reached up to kiss him.

'I have more than beer,' Danny told her, leading her to the couch. He sat down and pulled her down next to him, tucking her under her arm. With his free hand he reached for the remote and turned the TV on.

Lindsay pulled a face as _P.S. I Love You_ came on. 'You want to watch a chick flick?'

'I know _you_ want to watch a chick flick,' he told her.

Lindsay relaxed into him. 'I love you.'

Danny looked down and poked her nose. 'Love you too, Montana.'

'I haven't heard that in a while,' Lindsay smiled.

'I tell you I love you all the time,' Danny told her.

'_Montana_,' Lindsay explained. 'You stopped calling me that,' she sighed as she snuggled into him.

'How are you doing?' Danny asked her softly.

'I don't know,' Lindsay admitted. 'I hate cases involving kids. She should still be innocent, not hiding her dress in a plastic bag in the back of her closet because she knows there could be DNA evidence on it. And you know what?' she asked him. 'There was DNA on it, belonging to _two_ grown men. Grown men who were posing as a kid and his father so they could have sex with young girls. It just makes me sick, Danny.'

Danny sighed as he gently stroked Lindsay's hair. 'But we got them, Linds. They can't hurt any other kids where they're going.'

Lindsay shrugged. 'It just makes me doubt whether I want to bring a kid into this world.'

'You can't think like that,' Danny told her. 'You've got to remember that there is good out there. Look at Greg Roberts.'

'Yeah,' Lindsay frowned. 'Look at him. He's dead because he tried to help.'

---

Taylor was half asleep when she heard the shower turn on. She poked an eye open to look at the bright digital display of the clock. It was just gone three in the morning. She yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and plumped the pillows up behind her head before reaching for the television remote. She flicked it on, turning the sound down as low as possible, to watch a late night re-run of Law and Order. It wasn't until the end credits rolled and the preview for the following episode came on that she realised that the shower was still running and Flack had yet to emerge.

Taylor pulled the covers back and pulled a dressing gown on over the large NYPD t-shirt of Flack's she had stolen to sleep in, and padded over to the bathroom. The door was unlocked, and when Flack didn't respond to her gentle knocking, she pushed the door open.

Flack was in the shower, both hands outstretched to the tiles in front of him, with his head bowed – the water pounding down on the back of his neck and shoulders. With a frown, Taylor continued to the shower and gently tapped on the glass. Flack turned his head, stared blankly at her for a moment, and then dropped his head back into its original position. His eyes were red, and Taylor couldn't work out if it was because he'd been crying, or because he'd been in the shower for so long. For some reason, she was certain the reason was the former.

Without even bothering to strip, she stepped into the shower fully clothed. She reached out, grabbing the strained bicep, and pulled it towards her, turning Flack to face her. He stared at her for the longest time, before he finally collapsed into her shoulder.

Taylor led them backwards, out of the immediate jet of the shower spray and sat them both down against the wall. With her arm draped over his shoulder, pulling him to her, she waited for him to rest his head against her shoulder, before she leant her cheek against his wet head. Her other hand sought out his hand, lacing her fingers through his.

Finally, and only after the water had started to run cold, Flack stood suddenly and turned the water off. He turned back to Taylor and held a hand out. She took it, remaining as silent as he, and followed him out of the shower. As he pulled a towel around himself, Taylor pulled the wet items off and flung them in the bathtub before reaching for the towel Flack was offering her. As she tucked the towel around herself, he draped another one over her head and gently began to rub her at her hair.

With a sigh, Taylor reached up and grabbed his hand, stopping his rubbing. 'Don, what happened?' she asked gently.

Flack's deep blue eyes met hers. Still clutching the towel to her head, he leant forward and pressed his lips against her forehead. 'I love you, Taylor,' he said, finally.

'Come on,' Taylor told him, ducking under his arms and leading him into the bedroom, where she sat him down on the side of the bed. She hurried over to the TV and switched it off before she sat down next to him. She stared at him in the dim light which was coming from the digital clock. He was looking at the floor in front of his feet and he looked... worried. 'Don, what happened?' she repeated.

'We caught the guys who killed the teacher,' he told her, his voice gravely.

Taylor nodded. Mr Greggs had been to thank her, so she knew his killers had been arrested.

'I've been on the job a long time, but I've never seen anything like this. Forged transcripts, standardised tests, fake letters from schools he never attended. It's sick,' he told her. 'They faked everything so that they could molester kids. They raped Gerrard's daughter, Taylor,' he sighed without looking at her.

Taylor reached for his hand. 'Don, you caught them. Where they're going, they're not going to be able to hurt anyone again.'

'Jesse Carver's dead,' Flack told her.

Taylor blinked. 'What?'

'Gerrard walked into the interview room and shot him.'

Taylor's mouth hung open. 'He did _what_?'

Flack sighed. 'And now he's waiting to see what his bail's set to.'

Taylor shut her eyes, processing what Flack had just told her, then twisted on the bed to see him, bringing her leg up beneath her. 'Well I can't say I blame him,' she muttered.

'I did the same thing,' Flack told her quietly.

'If someone did something like that to Cordelia, or even Riley, a bullet would be the easy way out. Because my option would be castration with a spoon,' she told him, misunderstanding what he had said.

Flack pulled his hand from hers and got to his feet. Silently, he pulled a pair of jogging bottoms and a t-shirt. 'I'm gonna get a drink.'

Taylor watched him walk out without giving her the chance to respond. She licked her lips and got to her feet herself, drying her body and pulling on a fresh pair of pyjamas. She sat down at the dressing table, switching the lamp on, and brushed her hair, before braiding it back from her face. Taylor turned the light out and was about to get into bed when she realised that the room was getting lighter. A quick consultation with the clock revealed that it was nearly five am.

She headed downstairs and into the kitchen. The light was off and the door to the back yard was ajar. Taylor headed for it and pulled it open, finding Flack on the back step, smoking. 'Since when do you smoke?' she asked him, sitting down beside him.

Flack shrugged, taking a long drag. 'A while.'

'You've hidden it well,' Taylor told him.

'We should move,' he said suddenly, flicking the stub off the cigarette away so that the remains flared as it hit the ground.

Taylor turned to stare at him. 'Where to?'

'Somewhere that you can see the stars,' he told her, looking up at the dull, cloudy sky, which was slowly turning a pink colour as the sun rose.

'What? Like Jersey?' she asked.

Flack shook his head. 'I was thinking somewhere more like Arkansas.'

Taylor's eyebrows shot up. 'Arkansas?' she repeated. 'That's a bit of a commute.'

Flack shrugged. 'Who said anything about commuting?'

'You want to,' Taylor frowned. 'Quit?'

Flack reached down for the packet of Marlboro Light's next to him and tapped a fresh one out. He stuck it in his mouth and lit it, inhaling deeply before he put the lighter back down next to him and exhaled. 'Maybe I just want to buy a ranch and own a couple of horses in the middle of nowhere. Get away from all the crap that's in this city.'

Taylor bit her lip. 'Don, bad things happen in rural places too, you know. You can't escape it completely. You just get loaded with different crap.'

Flack sighed a puff of smoke and bowed his head. 'I know.'

'Look, I don't blame Gerrard for doing what he did, I really don't. And if the position was reversed, I don't know what I'd do in it. But he knew what he was doing.'

'I know he did,' Flack told her. He turned to her, meeting her eyes. 'Taylor, what I said earlier...'

'That you'd do the same thing?' she asked. 'Your human, Don. It doesn't matter who you are, if something like that happened to your own family, you'd consider it. You may not follow through with it, but you'd certainly consider it.'

'I did.'

Taylor nodded. 'There's nothing wrong with that.'

'No,' Flack said, shaking his head. 'I mean, I did follow through with it.'

Taylor looked at him, confused. 'I don't understand.'

'I practically did the same thing Gerrard did,' he told her.

'What do you mean?' Taylor asked him, still puzzled at his meaning.

Flack sighed and stated tapping the filter end of the cigarette on his knees, sending ash dancing in the air. 'Felix Bohr.'

Taylor could feel herself tense up, but she forced herself to continue. 'And what about... him?'

'I shot him, Taylor,' Flack admitted. 'I shot him in cold blood. I hunted him down and I unloaded my clip into him. He was unarmed, and I shot him. Officer Yip died in the process. And I told IAB that I shot Bohr in defence. You weren't even dead, Taylor. That makes me far worse than Gerrard,' he muttered then last bit as his gaze dropped to the floor, his eyes full of shame.

Taylor stared at him, trying to work out if she had heard him correctly. 'Look, I wasn't there, but from what I can gather, you were in a very dark place when I was in hospital.'

Flack's head snapped round. 'And you think that justifies the fact that I killed a man in _cold blood_?' he cried.

Taylor winced at his biting tone.

'I looked him in the eyes, and I shot him, even though he was unarmed.'

'I don't know what to say,' Taylor admitted quietly.

'There's not much you can say,' Flack returned. 'What I did makes me no better than him.'

'Gerrard did the same thing,' Taylor said softly.

'Gerrard's baby girl had been raped by the guy he shot.'

'And I was shot by Bohr,' Taylor pointed out. 'As was Louie.'

Flack shot her a scathing look. 'And yet you don't see Danny on a mission to kill him.'

Taylor frowned. 'I'm not sure you'd class you as going on a mission to kill him.'

Flack finally faced Taylor, his tear lined eyes filled with guilt. 'But I did, Taylor. I made it my mission to hunt him down and kill him. I should have just let the system that I work for, that I _believed_ in, do its thing.' He shut his eyes and swallowed. 'You know, the FBI profilers have a name for someone like me: a vigilante.'

'I don't think that something you did in the heat of the moment-'

'Taylor, you're not listening,' Flack interrupted. 'There was no_ heat of the moment_. I spent weeks tracking him down and I knew exactly what I was going to do when I found.'

Taylor sat in silence, staring at the weeds that were poking through the cracks in the concrete of the small yard. 'Well, either way, I, for one, am glad he's dead,' she muttered.

'And either way, I shouldn't have done it,' Flack told her.

'Okay,' Taylor said calmly. 'So what do you want to do?'

Flack sighed, lowering his head to his hands. 'I don't know,' he admitted. 'But I can't stand the fact that Gerrard is, at the very least, going to lose his badge, whereas I'm sat here acting like nothing happened.

Taylor leaned over, wrapping her arms around his. 'Whatever you decide, Don, I'm here. I will support whatever decision you make. But, and I will say this,' she said clearly. 'I do think that turning yourself in is the wrong choice. You're a good cop, Don. A damn good one. And if there's nothing else I believe in, I believe that you'd never do anything like that again.'

Flack sighed again. 'I wish I could believe that, Taylor. But the fact is, if the same thing was to happen again, I don't know _what_ I'd do.'

'Well,' said Taylor, firmly. 'I'd best not let it happen again then, had I?'

Flack pulled his arm free and draped it over her shoulder, pulling her close. 'You know I love you, right?'

'Of course,' Taylor told him.

'I still don't know where to go from here, though,' he admitted.

'Well what's going to make you feel better?' she asked him.

Flack thought about it. 'I guess making sure that no one else is ever put in that position again.'

'Well then,' Taylor said, turning in his arms to look up at him. 'You go back out there and you be the best cop you can be.'

Flack rose to his feet. 'I hope it's that simple,' he told her, flicking the cigarette away and disappearing back inside, leaving Taylor on the step.

She sighed, staring at the still glowing butt. 'Another smoker,' she muttered, although it was the least important thing going around her head.

* * *

_So how long will two chapters keep y'all satisifed before I have to post again?!_

_I just want to say a big thanks to all of you who keep sending me pms and emails, and also, thanks for all the favorite and alert adds!_


	229. Only you are the life among the dead

_sparkyCSI - You have Lexi back? Does this mean I will get some more chapters soon - or did you come to a decision on that?_

_meadow567 - And another two chapters for you (:D)_

_Trizzy - I can still watch them and laugh! In fact, I may do later! I hope work isn't too boring for you_

_TVjunkie323 - There's a bit of a wait, I know, but in my defence my muses have been setting me to work on DK (I'll have to send you the latest update on that for you, actually!) I've really grown to love Stella recently so I've enjoyed writing her. I don't like seeing grown men crying either! And with all the darkness that's going on, I needed to have something a little fluffy_

_natabrains - nope, I'm in denial about Marty! And I realised that the chapter was getting a little heavy so I was trying to lighten it a little. A bit of DL is just what it needed (:D)_

_Bmangaka - lol, is six weeks not too long then?_

_DreamerChild88 - I think my sympathy for Mac finally set in around these episodes (me and Mac have 'relationship' issues - he's not my favourite character) but I think I appreciate him a lot more. And she's the first and only person he's told._

_Aphina - I was DJing a scholl Christmas party the other day and a child, who honestly couldn't see over the door came and asked me to play the Timewarp. What got me was that straight after he asked for Come on Eileen. I felt old!! i was certainly struggling for the words myself._

_Spoliers for Personal Foul and Taxi, and of course, my eternal thanks to my beta!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 228: Only you are the life among the dead**

Taylor took a deep breath and pulled the keyboard over to her. Reed was preoccupied with his blog and was, as usual, completely oblivious to the ghosts that had seemed to take up residence in their office. The previous evening, whilst Flack had been enjoying a basketball game (albeit cut short when a cheerleader decided to kill one of the guys who had bullied her when she was younger), Taylor had a sulking teenager and a new ghost to add to the collection that were now just lingering around her.

With her lip caught firmly between her teeth, she typed the phrase into Google which had been imprinted onto her brain for the best part of a month. _"__None devoted, which shall be devoted of men, shall be redeemed; but shall surely be put to death."_ It brought up 414000 results.

She clicked on several of them, but short of a handful referring to something quoted on a popular television show, the majority were referring to a passage from Leviticus in The Bible. She sighed, trying to work out how The Bible was related to the murders, wondering if the murderer was a religious nut.

Her tired brain was about to formulate a theory when Reed's voice disrupted her.

'Hey Mac, it's Reed. I'm about to put up a new blog post about the Cabbie Killer and I was hoping that you could help me with something... yes, I know. But I'm just trying to put together a real profile on this guy. You know? Don't you think that people have the right to know who they're afraid of...? Yes, but isn't that what lines are for? I mean you let Taylor get away with it all the time. Come on, throw me a bone, Mac.'

Reed's phone hadn't even been put on the desk before a screwed up ball of paper smacked the side of his face. 'What was that for?' he cried.

'I get away with crossing the line all the time?' Taylor asked him incredulously.

'Well you do,' Reed told her. 'You're always in the crime lab and you're sleeping with one of the best homicide detectives in the city.'

This time he dodged the next balled up piece of paper. 'I am not sleeping with Don to get an exclusive, Reed. We have better things to talk about in bed.'

'Alright, I'm sorry I said anything,' Reed grumbled. He pulled his laptop to him and began typing.

Taylor returned her attention to the screen in front of her. She was again disturbed in her thoughts by Nancy entering the room. 'Get your gear,' Nancy announced. 'The city and the NYPD are holding a press conference and I want you to there. Ask the questions that the other reporters are too afraid to ask, and get me an exclusive.'

As she marched back out the door, Taylor sighed and pulled open her bottom drawer. In it lived a little used satchel containing the essentials for reportive journalism – several notebooks, countless pens and pencils, a Dictaphone. 'I'll drive,' she told her younger colleague who only seemed to be taking his Blackberry.

---

'Thank you for coming,' Jordan Gates said clearly into the microphones on the stand. 'We can confirm that there has been another victim to the Cabbie Killer, however the city wants to assure you that the NYPD is taking every precaution to ensure that no one else will be killed. Our detectives have been working around the clock and despite the panic that is brewing, I want you to know that you need not be in fear. I'll pass you over to Detective Mac Taylor, lead in the case.'

Mac moved forward, but instead of making a statement went straight into the questions.

'There's been a lot of speculation recently about just who this serial killer is. Can you speak to that at all?'

'Can I speak to a speculation?' Mac asked. 'No. Just because you read it online or in the papers doesn't make it so. The fact is there are a lot of dedicated investigators working extremely hard to stop this individual, whoever he is, from killing again.'

Taylor was scribbling down Mac's answers in her own version of shorthand when Reed pushed past her, making his way to the front. 'Reed!' she hissed.

Reed ignored her, instead calling out to Mac. 'Well, as one of those forced to speculate in the absence of any real information being released by the NYPD, I wondered if you could just tell me this, Detective Taylor: Would you take a New York City cab right now?'

Taylor's mouth dropped open, wishing she had the balls to ask the question, despite the consequences.

Mac stared at Reed before taking a deep breath and sighing. 'No I wouldn't,' he admitted. 'Not until this killer is found and brought to justice. No further questions.'

'I can't believe you asked him that,' Taylor told the kid in awe.

'Nancy wanted an exclusive,' Reed returned. 'She's got it.'

---

Taylor settled into the booth opposite Lindsay and grinned. 'How're things?'

Lindsay shook her head. 'I feel like I'm back in high school. Danny's still talking about those cheerleaders.'

'I know what you mean,' Taylor agreed. 'I got in and Flack had pulled out an old cheerleading uniform I had and asked if I'd put it on.'

'Did you?' Lindsay asked, curiously.

'Hell yeah,' Taylor grinned. 'Had much fun in it as well. I figured Flack needed some distractions,' she added.

'He's getting a lot of stick from the brass too?'

Taylor frowned. She'd actually slipped up, having been referring to Flack's confession. Quickly she nodded. 'Yeah. Not as much as Mac, it would seem.'

Lindsay also nodded. 'It's really getting to him, and it's rubbing off on Stella. It can't be good for the baby.'

'You know,' Taylor mused as she reached for the menu. 'I always thought those two would get together.'

'Mac and Stella,' Lindsay asked, her eyes popping out of her head. 'Don't be daft.'

Taylor nodded. 'Yup. It's true. They just work so well together.'

'So do Danny and Flack,' Lindsay pointed out. 'But I certainly don't picture them together.'

'Well, on that mental image, how about we discuss the baby shower.'

Lindsay smiled, pulling out a notebook. 'Well, the restaurant is booked for this Friday and we have confirmations from everyone, although,' Lindsay frowned. 'Mac has said if this serial killer isn't caught he won't be attending.'

'He can't do that!' Taylor objected. 'He's the one getting Stella there!'

'I know. So we're going to have to come up with some form of contingency plan,' Lindsay sighed.

'Well you work on that, and I'm going to work on Mac,' Taylor informed her as their food arrived.

---

By the time they had finished their meals, it was raining heavily. Taylor looked at Lindsay. 'You bring an umbrella?'

Lindsay shook her head. 'Nah. I don't mind though. I haven't had a rain walk in a while.'

'A what?' Taylor asked, staring blankly at her.

Lindsay smiled. 'A rain walk. A walk in the rain. It's something I did all the time in Montana. I haven't gone for a walk in the rain for a long time.'

'No, that's probably because you'll catch your death in it. It is April,' she laughed. 'April showers – I hadn't thought of that.' She pulled the collar to her jacket up around her neck. 'I left my phone in the office. I'm gonna nip there before I head home.'

'That's fine,' Lindsay told her. 'I'll go for a walk and see if I can come up with a plan. See you Friday night otherwise?'

'See ya then,' Taylor agreed before setting out in the opposite direction to Lindsay. Unlike Lindsay who had set off at a leisurely stroll, Taylor ducked her head and hurried through the pelting rain. She was a block from her office when she stopped suddenly. Over the weeks she had grown accustomed to the many ghosts that filtered through the streets of the city. Most of them were carrying about their daily business as if they were still alive – there was a hotdog vendor who was desperately trying to sell hotdogs across the road from the crime lab, completely oblivious to the fact he was dead. There was also a traffic officer from about thirty years ago who was trying to direct traffic around Madison Square. There was even a parking attendant who took much pleasure in issuing as many parking tickets as she could when the timers ran out off 5th Avenue.

But a group of ghosts, surrounding Maddy _and _Aiden in the middle of the sidewalk, along with a newcomer, was enough to make the journalist stop in her tracks and try not to worry. 'Aiden,' she greeted the ghost warily. 'Is this your not-so-subtle way of telling me I'm next?'

Aiden frowned. 'My job is to try to keep you safe, not influence you in your decisions.'

'And you could save yourself a lot of trouble if gave me a hint. Then you could spend more time with your date. Anyone I know?'

'James Dean,' Aiden returned dryly. 'And you have to make your own choices, Tay.'

'Note to self, don't get a taxi tonight,' Taylor muttered. She shivered in the cold night air, wrapping her arms around herself.

'You say that, but going to the crime lab could be the decision you shouldn't take,' Maddy pointed out.

'So you're telling me I _should_ take a cab?'

Maddy opened her mouth to respond, then froze. With a shake of her head, she pointed at Taylor. 'I'm not falling for that one,' she chided her.

Taylor took a breath and eyed the array of ghosts in front of her. Her eyes fell on the new guy. Like Maddy and Aiden, despite the rain, he looked completely dry. Taylor gave an inward sigh. Unlike his jeans, hers were soaked through and clinging to her legs uncomfortably and a part of her wished she had the ability to be in the rain and not look like she had jumped fully clothed into a swimming pool.

She frowned, bringing her attention back to the new ghost and cocked her head to analyse his manifestation. She could just about make out some scratches on the back of his neck when she peered around him. But his general appearance didn't seem to fit with the other ghosts. In fact, he looked like he had been beaten.

'Let's hear it, then?' she said to him.

He stared back at her.

Taylor shot a glance at Maddy and Aiden. 'Are you telling me I've got a ghost and a cat's got its tongue?'

Maddy shrugged. 'Don't ask me.'

'None devoted, which shall be devoted of men, shall be redeemed; but shall surely be put to death,' the other ghosts said in unison.

Taylor shivered, unsure as to whether the cause was the eeriness of the ghosts, or the fact that a drop of water had dribbled down her neck. She shot another look at the new ghost and was surprised to see a small monkey on his shoulder. 'Oh, I can't _wait _to see how this one plays out,' she muttered.

---

'_I'm sorry, Taylor, but I've got to get to work. I don't care if you have a new ghost – I can't _afford_ to not go in. You're gonna have to get back here and watch Riley yourself.'_

Taylor sighed. 'Thanks anyway, Marty,' she said as she hung up. She'd gone straight into her office to collect her phone and as she spotted the time, had cancelled away the new message without reading it, and had called Marty.

As he was working the night shift, Taylor frowned, wondering who she could get to watch Riley. There was no way she was leaving her alone in the apartment, but, at the bottom of her stomach, Taylor knew tonight was going to be the night to make or break the cabbie killer case.

Figuring there was only one other person to call, she flipped through her phone book, found Stella's number and called her.

'_Hey Taylor. What's the matter?'_

'Hi Stell,' Taylor greeted her. 'I was wondering if you could do me a favour?'

'_Go on,'_ Stella prompted her.

'Don's working, Marty's working and a new ghost has turned up.'

'_And you need someone to stay with Riley, correct?'_

Taylor nodded. Then, remembering Stella couldn't actually see her, 'Yeah.'

'_Not a problem,' _Stella informed her. '_But you should know I'm very expensive.'_

Taylor laughed. 'Thank you,' she told her before saying goodbye and hanging up. She thrust her phone into her pocket and hurried back out into the night. It was still raining. But she was also still drenched. She bowed her head and hurried for the nearest subway stop.

* * *

_I have completely resolved my housemate issues... I'm moving into my own place in four days! Eeek! And as I have spent the past three days cleaning and packing (actually, that's a lie - I went to London to see Wicked yesterday!) I have decided to take a break and treat you to two whole chapters!_

_I hope you all had a great Christmas - and for those that don't celebrate it, I hope you've been having a great time too!_


	230. I'm thankful for Every breath I take

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 229: I'm thankful for every breath I take**

Taylor emerged from the subway to find that it had finally eased off raining. She made her way through the dispersing crowds and headed for the Crime Lab. She rounded the corner in time to spot a yellow cab hurtling its way towards Flack, who was getting in an altercation with a cuffed suspect.

'Flack!' she screamed in horror, just as Angell spotted the cab and tackled Flack over the trunk and out of the way of the incoming vehicle. He was on his feet in seconds, sprinting after the escaping cab.

Taylor took a moment to re-inflate her lungs and dashed over to Flack's, now missing a back door, department issued vehicle. 'Jess? Are you alright?' she asked her, her eyes wide wide with worry.

Jess, who had leapt to her feet to pass the cuffed suspect over to a uniform, rather than check herself over, finally took the time to look down and examine herself for injury. 'I'm fine,' she nodded, glancing over at Taylor. Her eyes flicked to something behind the journalist.

Taylor turned. It was the body of the latest ghost.

Jess hurried past her and ducked next to the body, her fingers searching for a pulse. 'He's dead,' she announced, rising to her feet and scanning the ground. She quickly spotted a wallet and hurried over to it, a sigh escaping her as she examined it.

'What is it?' Taylor asked as Flack arrived back.

'I lost them,' Flack told them, giving Taylor a quick look of surprise.

Jess flicked the wallet open. It wasn't, as Taylor first thought, actually a wallet, but an ID. 'Jersey City PD,' Jess said. 'You think it was him? The Cabbie Killer?'

'Well if it was, just upped his game. The son of a bitch just killed a cop,' Flack said. He turned to Taylor. 'I wasn't expecting to see you.'

Taylor sighed. 'I had a visitor,' she told him sadly, looking down at the body.

'You're drenched,' he frowned.

---

Stella yawned and stretched. She had been watching a Discovery documentary on Prehistoric New York and realized that she hadn't heard a peep out of Riley all night. There had been movement upstairs and the teenager had left her bedroom a couple of times for the bathroom, but all in all, it was a very easy babysitting gig.

With a groan, she pulled herself from the low sofa and made her way to the kitchen to raid the freezer. Ben and Jerry's was calling her, and she knew that Taylor would have a stash hidden away. She was partly right – it wasn't hidden away in the slightest. She grabbed a spoon and dug into the Chunky Monkey goodness.

'It's a little late for ice cream, isn't it?' Riley asked.

Stella shrugged. 'Want some?'

'It's past my bed time,' Riley responded dryly.

Stella took a large mouthful of ice cream and swallowed. 'So why aren't you in bed?'

Riley shrugged and pulled another spoon out of the drawer. 'It's not like anyone cares.'

'What makes you say that?'

'Well, where's Don or Taylor?' Riley pointed out as she dug into the ice cream.

'They may not be here, but they care enough to make sure you're not left alone,' Stella told her. 'Why do you think I'm here?'

Riley rolled her eyes. 'To make sure I don't let my boyfriend in.'

'To make sure you stay safe,' Stella corrected her.

'I'm nearly sixteen. I'm capable of taking care of myself. I have been for years.'

'First of all, you're not doing a very good job of proving that, and second of all, you're _fifteen_. You shouldn't _have_ to be taking care of yourself,' Stella informed her, waving her spoon at her. 'When I was your age, I would have done anything to be in your situation.'

'I don't see you doing anything to help someone else out of my situation,' Riley muttered.

Stella pulled the ice cream away and put it on the top. 'Right, we can stop that right now. I am pregnant and therefore hormonal, so insulting me about my lack of care is only going to result in me taking the ice cream away from you. For all you know, I may have tried to foster a child but because of my lack of partner, and because I work irregular shifts, the state might not have deemed me suitable to look after another person.'

Riley fell silent, slipping back against the counter. 'Oh,' she mouthed.

'Yes, _oh_,' Stella repeated. 'Now your situation here might only be temporary until they find you somewhere more permanent-'

'They're not going to find me somewhere more permanent!' Riley blurted out. 'I'm fifteen! Who adopts fifteen year olds when they all want babies? And as soon as Taylor and Don realize that, I'll be straight back in the orphanage.'

Stella frowned, staring at the teenager. 'That's it, isn't it?'

'What?' Riley asked sulkily.

'The reason you're behaving like you are. Why you're skipping school and why you're dating a guy that's way too old for you? You figure that it's better they send you back sooner, rather than later – that way the pain will be less.'

Riley stared at her feet and shrugged.

'Look, Taylor might not have looked too far into the future, but she's not going to just throw you out. If nothing else, she's far too stubborn, but more than that, her heart is too big. The only one you're really hurting is yourself. You're onto a good thing here. She's pulling you out of that school you're in to put you in a better one,' Stella explained. 'And she's prepared to make sure that you have the extra attention you need so you're not behind when you start there. And I bet if I went upstairs in your room, it wouldn't be like a cell. I bet she's spent a pretty penny on you.'

Riley nodded. 'I guess.'

'So stop acting out and make the most of it. You've been given the opportunity here to make something of yourself,' Stella finished as she reached back for the ice cream and offered it to her.

Riley dug her spoon in and looked up at the curly haired woman. 'He's not too old for me. He's only a couple of months older than me.'

Stella frowned. 'Taylor's under the impression he's old enough to be in college.'

'Chase is just looks older than he is. He rarely gets ID'd.'

Stella's frowned deepened.

Riley's eyes widened. 'Not that we've ever tried to buy any alcohol or anything like that!' she said quickly.

'I'm sure,' Stella said dryly. 'You do realize there are consequences to buying alcohol, much less being drunk and underage, don't you?'

Riley nodded glumly.

'So how do you know him?' Stella asked, changing the subject slightly.

'He's at the same orphanage I was in,' Riley told her. 'He's my best friend.' She frowned. 'You're not going to bust me?'

Stella shrugged. 'Depends on whether or not you're going to get your act together and stop giving Taylor and Don a hard time?'

Riley nodded.

'Then no. You can thank my hormones that I'm going to let that one slide.'

Riley smiled. 'You're alright for an adult.'

'You're not too bad yourself, kid.'

---

'Right outside the precinct?' Mac muttered, clearly surprised at the brazen nature of the serial killer. He turned to Flack. 'Well, what did you see?'

Flack shrugged. 'Not much.'

'Did you catch a license plate on the cab?'

'No,' Flack told him. 'It didn't have any tags.'

'What about the car? Make? Model? Year?'

'I dunno. Maybe a Ford.'

'Any dents or distinguishing marks? Mac pressed.

Flack shook his head. 'He was going too fast – I was running.'

'Come on,' Mac said. 'Give me something? Anything?'

'Look, I know I sound like an idiot,' Flack told him in despair. 'It was a yellow cab. That's all I got.' With a sigh he walked away.

Mac turned to Taylor. 'What about you?'

'A little less than what Don told you. I'm sorry, Mac.'

Mac sighed. 'It's not your fault.'

'It's not Don's fault either,' Taylor pointed out.

'I know,' Mac admitted. 'It's just… it's right outside our own home and no one saw anything.' He dropped down next to the body and pushed the head back slightly. 'Bright red blood.'

Taylor dropped down next to him and peered at the body. 'That's a sign of carbon monoxide poisoning, isn't it?'

Mac nodded.

'Well, that's the same MO as the Cabbie Killer, isn't it?'

Mac nodded again. 'Right down to the carvings on the back of the neck.' He frowned and glanced at Taylor. 'Am I going to read this in the paper tomorrow?'

Taylor patted her herself down and looked at Mac with a mock look of surprise on her face. 'Well, look at that!' she exclaimed. 'I don't have a pen on me to take notes.'

Mac gave her a nod. 'Thank you.'

Taylor got to her feet. 'It's pretty bold to kill a cop, Mac. But to then dump him out in front of a precinct and nearly take another cop out in the process?'

'The Cabbie Killer is mocking us.'

'Or daring us to catch him,' a new voice added.

Taylor turned to find Quinn, the CSI from Jersey, heading towards them.

'Quinn,' Mac greeted her. 'I see Jersey City sent its finest.'

'And I see you're resorting to outsourcing help,' she said, looking pointedly at Taylor.

Taylor held up her hands. 'Hey, I want this guy caught too.'

Quinn glanced at Mac who just nodded. 'I take it it's the work of the Cabbie Killer?'

Mac nodded. 'It appears so.'

'So his first victim was from Hoboken. Now he's killed a Jersey City cop? I'm working the case with you. The maniac's killed six people,' said Quinn, dropping down beside the body.

'Let's hope this is the last one,' Mac told her.

Taylor frowned, watching Quinn. 'Did you work with him?' she asked her.

Quinn nodded. 'Yeah, a couple of times.'

'I'm sorry,' Taylor sighed.

'No holster, no gun,' Mac said, continuing his examination of the body. 'He probably wasn't carrying.'

'That doesn't really make much sense,' Taylor said, scratching at her still wet hair.

'What doesn't?' Quinn asked her.

'Well, the Cabbie Killer has been front page news for weeks, right?' At the detectives' nods she continued. 'Well, if an officer was going to take a cab, why on earth would he do it unarmed?'

'That's a good point,' Quinn agreed.

Mac turned to Taylor. 'Right, we'll take it from here.' His expression softened slightly. 'You look exhausted.'

'So do you,' Taylor returned gently.

Mac almost smiled at her. 'Thanks, but I won't be getting any sleep until this killer is caught.'

---

Taylor had returned home and relieved Stella of her babysitting duties. _I think things are going to be alright here_, Stella had announced somewhat cryptically before disappearing.

The statement was still playing on her mind as she returned from driving a somewhat subdued Riley to school and wandered into her living room. 'Great,' Taylor mumbled under her breath. 'She's taking tips from the undead.'

'What about us?' Maddy asked, suddenly appearing.

Taylor shivered, reaching for the blanket draped over the back of the couch and pulled it over her. 'Something Stella said,' she muttered, eyeing the collection of ghosts. Her eyes fell on Jimmy Comitis – the police officer – and the monkey swinging about on his shoulders. She sighed. 'Look, you've really got to give me something more, because this is tearing everybody down and I just don't see how a bible quote is going to lead me to a serial killer. Please!'

'It's not.'

Taylor blinked. 'It's not, what?' she asked the ghost of the police officer who had been the one to announce the statement.

'It's not.'

Taylor shut her eyes and counted to ten. 'It's not, what?' she repeated. 'It's not the serial killer?'

Jimmy remained silent.

'You mean, the person who killed you is not the same person who killed these guys?' The monkey let out a screech. 'Okay, I'll take that,' Taylor announced as she glanced at the clock. Nancy would be expecting her in the office shortly. 'Priorities,' Taylor muttered as she headed out of the door and to the Crime Lab.

---

'What can I do for you, Taylor?' Mac asked as she entered his office.

Taylor took a breath and began the speech she had been rehearsing on the way over. 'What if you've been looking at this case the wrong way?'

'What do you mean?'

'Well you've been looking at a dead cop,' she told him, thinking of the brief conversation she'd had with Flack who had gone with Angell to a cab company and filled her in on them finding Jimmy's cab and the fact he had been moonlighting as a cab driver. 'What if you should be looking at a dead cab driver?'

'Okay, so Comitis is beaten up by three guys, but then they kill him with carbon monoxide and carve into his neck. Maybe they give him a taste of his own medicine. Jimmy was a cabbie, a cabbie's been terrorizing the city and putting everyone out of business. That's why they dumped him in front of the precinct,' Mac mused. 'They delivered him to us like a gift – vigilante justice.'

'I'm not sure Jimmy's the serial killer though,' Taylor frowned. Surely, if he was, he wouldn't have been standing around with his victims – dead or not.

Mac shook his head. 'I doubt it too,' he agreed. 'It doesn't explain how he had the etchings on the back of his neck.' All of a sudden, he rose to his feet. Taylor turned to find Jordan Gates striding into the room.

'Can either of you explain to the mayor how sensitive information about an active serial killer case ends up on an internet blog?' she asked, staring pointedly at Taylor. '_Your_ internet blog.'


	231. A little death makes life more meaning

_I was only going to post two chapters, but I decided I wanted to leave things on a happier note (as it may be an age before I update again). So I'm spoiling you with three whole chapters!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 230: A little death makes life more meaningful**

'I'm sorry,' Taylor frowned. '_What_?'

Jordan handed over a file. 'The existence of carvings on the victim's necks.'

'First of all,' Taylor said, glancing down at the images in the folder. 'I don't do blogs – this isn't my work. Second of all, I certainly didn't leak this.'

'Are you accusing this lab of leaking information to the press?' Mac queried angrily.

Jordan just waved a hand in Taylor's direction. 'If the shoe fits?'

'And do you realize how many people share the same shoe size?' Mac asked her. 'Plenty of people, right on up to the mayor's office, were privy to that detail, Jordan.'

'Did you question them, or was it just easier to come in here and question us?' Taylor asked her.

'I'm looking for answers,' Jordan told them. 'The last thing I want to do is question your integrity, Mac, but this administration is at breaking point. If this leak came from this office, I can't help you.'

Taylor watched Jordan stride back out of the office before turning to Mac and handing the folder over. 'Mac, its Reed.'

Mac frowned. 'Reed has been at a scene, but from where he was standing, he couldn't have seen the carvings. He couldn't have known.'

'Well, he's not been getting the information from me and I can tell he's not been getting it from you.'

'Well he's getting it from somewhere,' Mac muttered angrily. 'And I'm going to find out where.'

Taylor watched him go before heading out into the lab to find Lindsay. She found her peering down a microscope. 'I think we're going to need that contingency plan.'

Lindsay looked up and sighed. 'I'm considering calling up and cancelling the booking altogether. The last I heard, Mac wanted everyone working on this until we caught him.'

'So please tell me you've got something that's going to bring us closer to working it out?' Taylor asked hopefully.

'I have a hair that isn't human,' Lindsay frowned. 'And I have no idea what it is. The computer's running it now.'

Taylor blinked. 'It's a monkey.'

'I'm sorry. What?' Lindsay asked her, giving her a puzzled look.

Taylor shrugged. 'Humor me?'

Lindsay frowned, but headed over to the computer. 'Alright, I'll shorten the search parameters.' She hit a few keys and within seconds, the computer was bleeping that it had a match. 'How the hell did you do that?' Lindsay asked, staring at the computer in amazement.

---

Taylor was sitting in the break room, munching on an apple. Lindsay had gone straight to Flack with the information and he and Grace had arrested a suspect. She had already called Nancy after seeing the missed calls and explained that she was following a lead.

'_Like Reed_?' Nancy asked.

'I guess,' Taylor told her. Frankly, she was just avoiding her office. She hung up and began looking through her messages. She had had several from Nancy demanding she tell her where she was, along with the voicemails.

She was just about to read one from an unknown number when the collection of ghosts appeared. She sighed and set her phone down.

'Thank you,' said Jimmy.

'Oh,' Taylor said in surprise. 'I wasn't expecting that.'

Jimmy took a breath. 'Look, I can't say much, but as a cop, I feel obliged to say something. Your friend's in trouble.'

Taylor stared at him. 'Which friend?'

'That's enough of that,' Aiden announced, appearing out of nowhere, though accompanied by another ghost. This one was female and blonde. 'Swap?' she asked Maddy, before disappearing with Jimmy.

'That's not fair!' Taylor told her. 'Who's he got?'

'The writer,' the fake blonde told her.

'The writer? Reed?' Taylor asked. She got to her feet, already dialing Reed's number as she flew out of the door and ran to Mac's office, running smack into him. 'It's Reed, Mac. He's got Reed.'

Mac looked at her and ushered her into his office. 'He left his keys in the door, his backpack on the floor – there's no question this is foul play. I've got Lindsay trying to track his phone.'

'I'm not getting any answer – it's going straight to voicemail,' Taylor told him as she hung up. 'Have you tried his parents?'

'They haven't talked to him since yesterday. Your editor?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Nancy's under the impression he's following a lead.'

Lindsay came hurrying into the room, scowling. 'I can't get a signal. Reed's cell is turned off and there's something wrong with it because even the phone company can't turn it on.'

'We can't help him if we can't find him,' Mac cried in frustration.

Taylor took a deep breath, raking her hands through her hair. 'Hey Mac,' she said, her eyes falling on one of the screens behind him. 'He's posting on his blog.'

'For weeks I've been investigating the Cabbie Killer murders with a certain morbid fascination,' Mac read aloud.

'This is in real time,' Lindsay realized. 'I'll see if I can track an IP address,' she told Mac before disappearing as quickly as she had appeared.

'What I never anticipated was becoming part of the story,' Mac continued as more text appeared on screen. 'At this moment I'm sitting face to face with the brilliant criminal who had made the greatest city in the world his victim. He wants you to understand. He wants me to give you his message.'

'Are you telling me Reed's source is the Cabbie Killer?' Taylor asked in amazement. Part of her was in awe at who his source was.

Mac nodded. 'And now the son of a bitch has him.'

The door flew open for a second time and this time Quinn burst in. 'What the hell's going on? I've just seen Lindsay and she's telling me he's got Reed.'

'And another female victim,' Taylor added. Mac gave her a sharp look. Taylor pointed back at the screen and Mac turned his attention on the message that had appeared.

'Claire.'

'If Reed's using Claire's name in his blog, he's got to be sending you a message, Mac,' Taylor frowned.

'Mac, who is Reed to you?' Quinn asked sharply.

'He's Claire's son, Quinn. She gave him up for adoption before we met. When he came looking for his biological mother he found me, unaware that she had died.' His attention was caught by Danny, who was waving him over in the lab opposite.

'You knew?' Quinn asked her after Mac had left.

'Knew what?' Taylor asked carefully.

'Who Reed was to Mac.'

Taylor shrugged. 'It wasn't my secret to tell.'

'It could have helped with the case,' Quinn pointed out.

'Up until now, how has that had _any_ bearing on the case?' Taylor shot back at her.

'It would have told us who Reed's source was.'

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Puh-lease, do you really think Mac – _Mac _– is the one to be leaking information to the press?'

'He's got you in his office.'

Taylor glared at the red head. 'Do you actually read what I write?'

Quinn shook her head.

'For crying out loud! There's a pattern here. The ones accusing me of being here for a story are the ones who don't read my work to know that's exactly _not_ what I do. God!'

'You're right. I owe you an apology for that,' Quinn told her. 'And I know Mac. He wouldn't allow you to be here if you were repeating privileged information to the world. It's just you _are_ a journalist.'

Taylor was ready for a retort when Mac burst into the room. 'Please tell me how we can have all this technology and not know where he is?' he asked them in despair.

'At least while he's blogging we know he's alive,' Taylor offered.

'It's not enough,' Mac told her. 'I should never have given him access to the case.'

'Like that was going to stop him,' Taylor told him. 'Look,' she said, pointing at the screen. 'Another post.'

'Corn flaked? Could be a typo,' Quinn muttered.

'Wait,' said Mac. 'Taylor, scroll back up.'

Taylor frowned. 'What do you see?'

'Hawkes found yeast trace on Reed's backpack. It's not corn flaked. It's _flaked corn_,' Mac explained. Glacier and Comet are hops and Australia's a type of wheat. It's ingredients.'

'Ingredients to what?' Taylor asked. 'Brewed Beer? He's in a brewery?'

Mac nodded. 'Taylor, find me a brewery in midtown. We're heading in that direction'

He and Quinn disappeared leaving Taylor with Google.

---

Taylor held off as long as possible before leaving the Crime Lab – hoping to hear something on Reed. After making Lindsay promise faithfully that she would call with something, she headed over to Jersey to pick up Riley. Much to her complete surprise, Riley was sitting on the wall, outside the school, pouring over a Chemistry textbook with the boy Taylor had chased off only days earlier.

'Riley, what have I told you about hanging around with this man?' Taylor demanded.

Riley and the male in question jumped off the wall, but neither of them made any attempt to move. 'Taylor, this is Chase Brighten.'

'I don't care what his name is,' Taylor snapped at them.

'He's sixteen,' Riley quickly told her. 'He's only just sixteen!'

'My ass he's only just turned sixteen,' Taylor started to say when Chase produced a driver's license.

'I really am only sixteen,' Chase told her, before earning an elbow in the side from Riley. 'Ma'am,' he added.

Taylor took the card and eyed it suspiciously. 'How do I know it's not fake?'

Riley rolled her eyes. 'Who in their sane mind would have a driver's license to say they're younger than they are?'

Taylor shot her a glare. 'Not two days ago was Don investigating a case where the murderer and _rapist_ was a twenty something year old pretending to be a school kid, so don't ask me that question.'

'Ma'am, I really am sixteen,' Chase told her.

'And if I ask that question to your parents, what would they say.'

'Very little being as they're dead,' Chase retorted.

'I know Chase from the orphanage. He's my best friend, not my boyfriend,' Riley quickly explained. 'And we're happy for you to let Don do whatever checks he needs to do to prove he's sixteen.'

Taylor chewed at her bottom lip as she eyed the dark haired boy. She handed him the ID back. 'Alright. Here's the deal. I'm going to call the school tomorrow-'

'It's Saturday tomorrow,' Riley interrupted.

'Fine. I'm going to call the school on _Monday_ and check if he's a student here. If they can confirm it, and the orphanage can confirm his age, that will be good enough for me,' she told them. 'And then you're going to have to come around for dinner,' she said to Chase.

Chase let out a dismayed sigh, earning another jab in the ribs from Riley. 'Yes, ma'am,' he told her.

'And you can call me Taylor,' Taylor sighed. 'Right, we need to get home,' she told Riley, who was smiling at them. 'You're not out of trouble yet, missy.'

Riley nodded. 'I know.'

The two of them headed for the car, leaving Chase to head in the other direction.

'I'm not going to skip school anymore,' Riley told her as they were heading back over the Jersey Bridge.

'I should hope not,' Taylor muttered.

'And I'll do whatever chores you need me to do around the house.'

Taylor eyed her suspiciously. 'What do you want?'

'Nothing!' Riley objected.

Taylor arched an eyebrow at her.

'Alright,' Riley confessed. 'I was hoping for something.'

'Mmmmm?'

'I was wondering if you could make a slight amendment to the grounding. I would like to go to Stella's baby shower,' she quickly added before Taylor could say anything. 'And you'd be there anyway, so it wouldn't be like I'd be going anywhere. Plus, it would save you the hassle of trying to find a babysitter.'

Taylor frowned. 'Actually, I hadn't thought about a babysitter.' She sighed. 'Fine. But you should know that it might not happen tonight.'

'Why not?' Riley asked, her mouth dropping open.

'Because everyone is busy trying to find the Cabbie Killer, and I don't know if Mac will tear himself away to get Stella there. He was supposed to be the one to get her there,' Taylor explained.

'Well, I can do that,' Riley offered.

'And what about the rest of her friends?'

Riley smiled. 'If they're anything like Stella, they'll catch him.'

---

'_It's on_!' Lindsay exclaimed happily.

'What?' Taylor asked. She had been pacing back and forth in the kitchen for the best part of an hour. Not long after they had returned home and Riley had disappeared in her room to _get something ready for this evening_, she'd gotten a call from Flack. They'd found Reed. The thing was the Cabbie Killer had left him fighting desperately for his life with his throat slashed, and the Killer had gotten away.

'_Tonight,_' Lindsay explained. '_We caught him. The Cabbie Killer. And Reed's going to be alright. Although…'_ She trailed off.

'Although what?' Taylor asked her warily.

'_Although, Mac's at the hospital with Reed. It looks like they're going to release him tonight and let him go home. We're going to have to find some other way to get Stella to the restaurant.'_

'I think I can do that,' Taylor frowned, glancing up at her ceiling.

---

The restaurant they had chosen was a small, homely place in the middle of the village. There were a few other customers in there, but they had a secluded corner to themselves which the owner was more than happy for Taylor and Lindsay to decorate.

Flack and Danny were busy rearranging furniture whilst Adam and Chad were unhelpfully playing with the pacifiers and diapers that Angell, Peyton and Grace were trying to arrange as a table feature.

'I can see her,' Sid announced, hurrying over from the window where he had been keeping watch.

'Right, everyone back around the corner,' Lindsay ordered.

'You looked tired,' Taylor muttered at Marty as she squeezed in behind him.

'You're not looking so hot yourself, Drew,' Marty shot back at her.

'I'm just concerned,' Taylor told him.

'I'm here, aren't I?'

'That's not what I meant,' she told him before Riley and Stella rounded the corner.

'SURPRISE!' everyone yelled.

There was a moment's pause before Stella clutched at her stomach and pulled a face. 'Oh God,' she gasped.

'You've induced labor!' Riley cried.

Everybody's mouths dropped open in horror. 'It's alright,' Sid said, stepping forward. 'I'm a doctor.'

At which point, Stella and Riley burst out laughing.

'That is _so_ not funny!' Lindsay exclaimed.

'You didn't think a surprise party through, did you?' Riley laughed. 'What did you except to happen?'

'You told her?' Taylor asked.

'Enough,' Stella laughed. 'I smell dinner,' she announced happily as she allowed Sid to lead her to a chair at the head of a table.

'We have a Meze Platter to delve into whilst we're waiting,' Taylor told her, mispronouncing the name and causing Stella to laugh.

'And presents,' Chad declared, plonking a wrapped item in front of her.

'We were going to save those for dessert,' Peyton told him, irritably.

Chad's eyes widened. 'I thought we were going to start with presents?'

'Well if you and Adam had been paying attention to what was being said, rather than who could stack the diapers the highest, you would know that,' Angell pointed out.

'We were hoping that Mac might be here by then,' Danny explained.

'He's here,' the man in question announced, leaning over Stella's shoulder to place his present on top of Chad's, before leaning back slightly to kiss Stella's cheek.

'How's Reed?' Stella asked him.

'He's going to be fine,' Mac told them all. 'He's at home with his parents.' He took the chair next to Stella and glanced around the room. 'I know this is Stella's night, but I just wanted to say thank you to all of you for helping catch this guy. I don't care what anyone says – you are the best team I could ask for.'

Stella sniffled and pulled a Kleanex from her purse. 'Sorry – it's all the hormones.' She pulled Mac's present towards her. 'Well, this is a bit heavy.'

'I should explain,' Taylor told her as everyone took seats around the table and began helping themselves to the platters on the table. 'We have a theme of stories. We figured that every child should have a good collection of books so we went and got you our favorite books from when we were children.'

Stella beamed. 'That's a brilliant idea – thank you.'

'You haven't seen Chad's favorite book yet,' Adam muttered.

'Hey!' Chad objected. 'There is nothing wrong with comics!'

Stella laughed and unwrapped his present.

'Just how old are you?' Riley asked as Stella discovered the entire _Harry Potter_ collection.

'I was told _books_,' Chad told them. 'And I actually like Harry Potter.'

'Thank you, Chad,' Stella told him as she reached for Mac's present. It was a hardback collection of the _Just So Stories. _'I used to love these!' she exclaimed. 'Thank you.'

'Here,' Taylor cried, thrusting a present at Stella. 'These were my favorites.'

'What?' Danny asked, laughing. 'The entire _Nancy Drew_ collection?'

'No,' Taylor responded smugly as Stella ripped off the paper to find the _Famous Five_ collection.

'I don't know why you're acting all smug,' Danny told her. 'It's still a wannabe detective story.'

Taylor poked her tongue out at him whilst Flack leant over and gave Stella his present. 'My books differed somewhat to Taylor's,' he told her.

'Not what I expected,' Angell frowned as Stella held up _Huckleberry Finn _and_ Tom Sawyer._

'Here, Stella,' Hawkes said, walking around to place an enormous present in front of her.

'You had to outdo everyone, didn't you?' Danny muttered, grinning.

Stella pulled back the paper.

'_Encyclopedia Britannica?!_' Danny exclaimed. 'You're telling me that was your favorite book?

'And that surprises you?' Angell asked.

'And what did you get her?' Danny shot back at her.

Angell sent a smallish parcel around the table.

'Thank you, Jess,' Stella muttered, finding a copy of _The Wind in the Willows_.

'That's not very girly,' Danny told Angell.

'Four brothers,' Angell pointed out. 'I was a tomboy. And what did you come up with, dare I ask?'

'Lindsay and I have these for you,' Danny said, handing over their present.

'Only because you didn't read when you were a kid,' Lindsay muttered under her breath, loud enough for everyone to hear, whilst Stella unwrapped several Roald Dahl books.

'And this is from me,' Peyton said, handing over what was revealed to be the Beatrix Potter Collection.

'Thank you, Peyton,' said Stella, before reaching for Sid's offering.

By the time the main course was being served, Stella's collection had grown to include _Alice in Wonderland_ and _Through the Looking Glass_ from Sid; _The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, _and _The Chronicles of Narnia_ from Adam; _Treasure Island_ from Marty; _The Strange Case of Dr Jeckyll and Mr _Hyde from Grace; and _The Velveteen Rabbit_ from Riley.

'These are all fantastic. Thank you,' Stella muttered.

'And now the maternity leave begins,' Mac announced.

'The baby's not due for another month,' Stella pointed out. 'I did take early maternity leave.'

'Because you didn't want to be near the chemicals in the lab,' Mac pointed out.

'More like_ you_ didn't want me near the chemicals,' she grinned before tucking into the large meal in front of her.

They finished at a reasonable time and everyone had dispersed apart from Mac, who was loading up his car with the presents so he could take Stella home, and Flack and Riley, who were waiting for Taylor to finish helping Mac.

'Mac, can I ask you something,' she asked as they packed the books into the trunk.

'Sure,' he told her. 'What's up?'

Taylor frowned. Midway through the meal, the ghosts had appeared to thank her, and even though she had ducked into the bathroom, none of them had been willing to explain the bible quote they had all been so willing to repeat at her. 'The ghosts of the victims kept repeating something at me and it still doesn't make sense. I was hoping, as you'd been involved in everything, you might get it and explain it to me?'

'Ghosts?' Mac sighed.

'"_None devoted, which shall be devoted of men, shall be redeemed; but shall surely be put to death."_,' Taylor quoted.

Mac gave her an intense stare. 'How did you know about that? Did Flack say something?'

Taylor shook her head. 'No, the ghosts told me.'

Mac inhaled deeply. 'The Cabbie Killer was a ticking time bomb. Alone, delusional. Faces on the Billboards made him angry. He saw their slogans as false promises and lies. His victims were sinners who were doomed and in need of redemption. The only way to be redeemed was be killed and given passage across the river Styx. He saw himself as Caron, the Greek god,' Mac explained. 'Also known as the ferryman. His duty was to offer them passage. The quote is Leviticus 27:29... L2729 - the scratchings on the back of his victim's neck. It was his way of passing on a message.'

'Seriously?' Taylor asked, eyes wide in disbelief. 'The guy was a loon.'

Mac nodded. 'The city was a hostage to fear, to panic, to turn against one another. All because of one man's rampage. Now that he's locked up forever New York can begin to heal. We all can begin to heal.'

Taylor took a deep breath and nodded. 'Thank you.'

'The ghosts really told you that?' Mac asked.

'Yeah,' Taylor nodded.

'Hmmm,' he mumbled, shutting the trunk. 'Interesting.'

* * *

_So, what book would you have given?? (:P)_


	232. Today could be the last day of your life

_xSamiliciousx - Thank you! I'm glad you stuck it out and I'm glad you like it!_

_CaitlinTierney - Aw thank you! I have the email and I shall sit down with it tonight! (And I agree - he's totally hot!)_

_BlueEyedGunSlinger - Oh, I forgot about Dr. Seuss! Definately! Glad you enjoyed!_

_Aphina - I think I need to read that one! I know what you mean - god help my kids if I ever have them, because they'll hate me for keeping them safe!_

_Trizzy - I haven't thought that far ahead in my story - I haven't even worked out where to put Lucy in it. So there's probably nothing to worry about for the next hundred chapters (LOL)_

_Bmangaka - yeah, I will accept that comparison. My urge to write disappeared for the longest time. I'm hoping it will make a reappearence for this story soon! (it feels forever ago but I did have a good Christmas, thanks)_

_DreamerChild88 - Oh, I just want to go out and increase my book collection now! Chase will be about - I just have to re-channel him - it's been so long!_

_sparkyCSI - I have one chapter for you. Hopefully two :s I hope you're feeling better, btw!_

_DannyMessersGirl324iLOVEhim - I'm glad you enjoyed! Did you get your book finished?_

_Thoren - :) Occasionally I can surprise! Sadly not this time though._

_meadow567 - The Hungry Catapiller is my favouritist (I know I made that word up) book! My friend had a baby and I got it for him, even he can't read it for a few years_

_animeotaku88 - thank you!_

_TVjunkie323 - I have seen it, and I will admit, I didn't see that coming. And I don't think it's been mentioned since... Like Louie, that will go onto the shelf of mystery. _

_Hmmm, I was going to say there are no spoilers, but I suppose there kinda are for 5:18; Point of No Return. Other than that, as usual - enourmous thanks for my beta, sparky!_

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 231: Today could be the last day of your life**

'Taylor?'

Taylor stuck her head out of the laundry room. She hadn't had a ghostly visit and whilst Flack was in the living room playing on his latest obsession – _Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2_ – she was taking the opportunity to catch up on some chores. 'In here, Marty,' she called.

Marty appeared in the kitchen moments later looking a little… nervous.

Taylor arched an eyebrow as she stepped out of the laundry room. 'Are you alright?' she asked him.

'Tay, I need a favor,' he frowned.

Taylor returned the frown. 'What's up?'

He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. 'What would you say if I asked you to be my best man?'

Taylor blinked. 'I'm not a man,' she said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

Marty rolled his eyes at her. 'So is that a no?'

'No,' Taylor told him. She shook her head. 'You're getting married?'

Marty nodded. 'And she catches on.'

Taylor grinned and leapt at him, tripping on a pile of laundry. He caught her, accepting her clumsy hug. 'When?'

'In about an hour's time?'

Taylor let go and took a step back. 'I beg your pardon? I thought you just said you were getting married in an hour,' she told him, eyeing him suspiciously. 'And you can't possibly have said that, because that would be insane, and there's no way in _hell_ that Dallas would let you two have a wedding without having a little more notice.'

The hand was back to scratching the back of his neck. 'Actually, I did say an hour's time. And I'm not marrying Dallas.'

Taylor's mouth flopped open for all of five seconds before she gave her friend a shove. 'When did you finish things with Dallas and why the hell am I only now finding out about this?!' she snapped at him.

Marty sighed, leaning back against the counter. 'A while ago. Things just weren't… working out,' he shrugged at her. 'I've been working a lot,' he added.

Taylor's hands found her hips as she glared at him. 'So let me get this right? You have been working so much that you couldn't find two minutes to say, _oh, Taylor, by the way… me and Dallas aren't a me and Dallas anymore_, but you could find the time to not only start dating someone new, but also propose to them?' With an exasperated grunt, she punched Marty's arm.

'Hey!' he objected.

'Oh, you deserved it,' Taylor snapped at him. 'So who is the woman?'

Marty cracked a half grin. 'Jealous?'

Taylor made a noise resembling a growl in the back of her throat and punched his arm again.

Marty opened his mouth to object but instead sighed. 'Yeah, I deserved that one too,' he admitted.

'Damn right you did,' Taylor snapped at him. 'Well, who is the woman that is happy to marry you after knowing you all of five minutes? What corner did you find her on?'

'It was the ER, actually.'

Taylor whirled around to find a young woman with wavy dark hair, wearing an off-white cream suite, standing in the doorway.

'You brought her here?' Taylor screeched.

'You'll have to forgive Taylor,' Flack announced, appearing behind Marty's fiancé. 'When she gets excited she tends to reach decibels that only bats can hear.' He squeezed past the woman and walked over to Taylor placing both hands squarely on her shoulders. 'She also forgets her manners.'

'Marty is getting married,' Taylor started to explain, trying not to grit her teeth as she did so.

Flack nodded. 'Yeah, I heard your half of the conversation over the sound of gunfire and explosions as a fourteen year old in Belgium kicked my ass.'

Marty laughed. 'You got owned by a kid half your age?'

Flack turned his head to roll his eyes at Marty. 'I was distracted by the screeching in the kitchen.'

'I do not screech,' Taylor said, pouting.

'You do, Tay,' Flack told her, patting her shoulder. 'However, that's not the issue here. Neither is who won or lost on _Call of Duty_.' Flack turned and extended his hand to the woman who was still standing in the doorway. 'Hi, I'm Don Flack. Welcome to our very dysfunctional household. And congratulations!'

'I'm Anabel,' the woman smiled at him. 'And it's alright. I would be a little shocked if my best friend only gave me half an hour's notice on her wedding, especially when I hadn't had chance to vet her choice.' She stepped into the room and smiled at Taylor. 'I know it's sudden, but it's what we want.'

Taylor frowned and stared over at Marty, who was watching her warily. He smiled at her, but for some reason, the smile didn't quite meet his grey eyes. 'If it's what you really want?' Taylor asked him.

Marty glanced at Anabel before nodding.

Taylor inhaled sharply before turning to Flack. 'Right, we'd best get changed.'

Marty let out a groan, his head falling backwards. 'Come on, Taylor! I'm getting married in an hour!'

'Marty Pino, let's get one thing straight. I am not turning up to _any_ wedding in my sweat pants and flip flops. You can wait five minutes while I get changed.'

'Yeah,' Marty agreed. 'I can wait for you to get changed, but I am not waiting for you to shower, do your hair, get your make up on…'

'If you'd have given me more notice, I would have already done those things. However, you're going to have to put up with me unshowered and smelling of cleaning products. And that's your fault,' she turned on her heel and strode out of the kitchen. Her head was in the wardrobe, fishing out a dress when Flack appeared in the room, pulling off his t-shirt. 'I can't believe he didn't tell me.'

'I can't say I blame him when you react like that,' Flack shrugged.

Taylor pulled the sky blue dress over her head. 'Riley's going to be pissed. If I'd have known, I'd have made sure she wasn't spending the day with Chase.' She frowned. 'He's supposed to be coming around for dinner later.'

'And he still will do. He can join us in our celebrations,' Flack told her as he ushered her out of the door and back downstairs.

---

"You're quiet," Flack whispered into Taylor's ear as they were seated in a noisy section of Chili's. Taylor glanced over at Marty who was explaining an emergency operation he had done in the ER, complete with his steak and a bottle of ketchup, that Anabel, Riley and Chase were thoroughly engrossed in.

She frowned and prodded the salad in front of her. She hadn't had an appetite when she'd ordered and now that the food was in front of her, she was still waiting for it to make an appearance.

There was just something about the whole thing that didn't feel… right. They made it to the church on time. Or rather, to the courthouse, for a quick ceremony. She and Flack had been the only witnesses – none of Marty's family had turned up, and Taylor was certain that when Pauline, his mother, found out that he had gotten married without her knowledge, she would never forgive him. There was also the fact that even though she and Marty were close, at the very least, Sheldon should have been there too. And Danny. And even Marty and Sid got on well.

She could get past the lack of guests though. At the end of the day, plenty of people upped and eloped. Or, got married in secret without their friends and family there. If she had to put her finger on it, it was the lack of conviction on either the bride or groom's faces. Even their kiss didn't seem particularly convincing, rather clumsy and awkward.

Even now, the pair seemed relieved that the two teenagers were there, occupying the time, almost as though they didn't want to spend time alone. In fact, seated in the middle of the restaurant, it seemed like nothing more than a family meal.

"Taylor?"

Taylor glanced over at Flack and gave him a small smile. "It's nothing," she muttered softly.

"I guess it means we get that spare room back," he muttered.

"Huh?" Taylor frowned up at him.

Flack frowned back. "Where has your head been?" he asked her. "He's moving in with Anabel. Hell, judging from what they were saying, it sounds like he's already in. That's one less person to worry about."

"One less person to worry about what?" she asked him, her eyes never leaving the newly married couple.

"Really?!" Flack asked her in amazement. "You really had to ask that?"

Taylor turned her head and stared at Flack in confusion. "Huh?"

"Taylor, are you jealous?" he asked her calmly.

The confusion turned into a look of bewilderment. "_Huh_?!"

"You haven't stopped glaring at Anabel since we sat down," he informed her.

"I'm not jealous," she snapped at him. "I just think this whole wedding is a sham and she's probably marrying him for his money." Taylor froze, suddenly aware that the table had gone quiet. She slowly turned her head, and sure enough, everyone was staring at her. She sighed and pulled her napkin off her lap, dropping it on the table. "Excuse me," she muttered and left the table.

"Sorry, Pino," Flack apologized as he got to his feet.

Marty shook his head, getting up. "I'll be honest, I expected worse," he told him. "I'll go talk to her."

He found her outside, leaning against a mailbox, staring down the street. "Well as far as speeches go from the Best Man, that's gotta be up there," he told her.

"Not my finest moment, I'll admit," Taylor sighed.

"So, you jealous or something?"

Taylor looked up at him and rolled her eyes. "Puh-lease, you're as bad as Don. I'm not jealous. I'm just concerned."

"You're the only person voicing that opinion," Marty shrugged.

Taylor narrowed her eyes. "Oh, so you mean Sid knows, and he approves? Or Stella? I bet even Grace the stalker sidekick of Don's would agree with me."

Marty let out a long breath and kicked at the leg of the mailbox. "Yeah, you're right, they don't know."

"There's a shocker," Taylor muttered. "Did you knock her up?"

Marty moved from her side so he was stood in front of her and waited for her eyes to meet his. "You trust me?"

Taylor nodded.

"Then trust this: I have not gone into this lightly and I know what I'm doing," he grinned. "And I can assure you, she's not marrying me for my money."

---

The drive home was a long one, after making a slight detour to Jersey to drop Chase off, but it seemed like every other car was a yellow cab – with someone in the back. 'I never thought that would be such a nice sight,' Taylor muttered from the passenger seat.

'What's that?' Flack asked her.

'The thriving ant colony that is the NYC Yellow Cab company,' she mused. 'It will be nice to have a peaceful night tonight.'

Flack shot her sideways glance. 'You know you've just jinxed it, right?'

Taylor shook her head. 'Nope. Positive thinking is going to win this one and I'm looking forward to spending a night with you,' she grinned.

'Ew!' Riley exclaimed from the backseat. Taylor laughed, pulling her phone out of her purse.

'You really haven't gotten a text at this time of night, have you?' Flack asked in disbelief.

'Nope,' Taylor told him. 'I'm making sure to put it on silent.'

'You're asking for trouble,' Flack warned her as they neared the house.

'Who's sitting on the steps?' Taylor asked with a frown, as she stared at the person sat in the shadows, two obvious lumps beside him.

They pulled up outside the house and the figure looked up. For a second, Taylor was almost convinced she was looking at Flack.

'Sean?' Flack said in surprise, getting out of the vehicle. Taylor quickly followed him.

'Surprise,' Sean said, beaming.

'What are you doing here?' Flack asked him.

'I can't pay my big brother a visit?' Sean asked with a grin which was uncannily similar to his brother's. He glanced at Riley and frowned. 'Wow! How long have I been gone?'

'She's not mine, you doofas!' Flack told him.

Sean arched an eyebrow. 'Doofas?'

Taylor let out a laugh and held out her hand. 'That's my influence. Sorry. Taylor,' she introduced herself.

Sean ignored the hand and pulled her into a hug. 'So you're the crazy one?'

'Excuse me?' Taylor asked incredulously.

Sean took a step back and shrugged. 'You said yes to my brother. You must be insane.'

'You might be on to something there,' she laughed.

'Hey,' Flack objected. 'If we're going to spend all night insulting me, can we move it inside?'

Sean winked at Riley. 'Probably a good idea. The tales I could tell about Donnie here will have you up all night.'

Flack ushered his brother into the house amid the laughter. 'I think we will be keeping all conversations to a PG-13 level, tops.'

* * *

_I'm back! Have you missed me? lol!_

_On a more serious note - big thanks to everyone who has added me on alerts and favourites, and also big thanks to all of you who are still reading!!!!_


	233. I'm gonna stop lookin' back and start

_Hi all,_

_I don't know if you remember me, or the story, but, I'm back, so is Taylor, and so is (hopefully) another couple zillion chapters of _What The Eyes Can't See_. Without making excuses, the nonsense that came from the Yellow lot came at the wrong time of my life - when I had far too much going on in real life (I'm telling ya - soaps have nothing on me!) - and as a result, I basically abandoned this story. I did always plan on coming back to it - if not, I would have written some crappy ending you'd have all been disappointed with. I've had to sit back and re-read the story from begining to end (and realised that FF has basically removed all story breaks I ever put in there, which means I shall have to go back and edit everything again... But I've also discovered just how bad my spelling and puctuation was in the early chapters, so it's a good thing. I just think that 231 chapters might take me a while.) I also hit random on my laptop and I've been watching episodes from the show over the five seasons to inspire the muses back. I think I've coaxed them back, but for love nor money could I get them to write what I wanted. Basically, going off my original plan, they were a good twenty chapters ahead of where I wanted to be, so the plan's changed - hopefully for the better - but I've had to wrap up a few things to get there. As a result, this chapter is a little jumpy, and I do apologise, but you're going to have to let me have this one. When the muses eventually cooperate, I will add the 'missing parts' in and probably stick it in _What is, What Was and What Will Never Be. _Anyway, I will shut up now, but I wanted to say a huge thank you for all of you that have returned to this, and for all the support you gave me all that time ago._

_Cheryl_

* * *

_Lozzarooni - Can I just say, thank you again? Thank you!_

_Laplandgurl - they came back! Thank you. See, I should do the same with some of my books - I have so many in boxes at mine and my parents, which are clearly not going to get read for a very long time, but I don't have the heart to do it. I hope you get some sleep!_

_twilightgirl00000001 - I love Criminal Minds and it is something I considered in the past. I shall see if I can channel the characters!_

_Trizzy - Ah, I have plans for their marriage, but I can't say through fear of more spoilers!_

_Shockin'BlueEyes - Ah, thank you. You should definately try SN - Dean is too pretty not to watch! lol. And your English is good! I promise there will be some more fluff! Soon(?)_

_Ann - Thank you!_

_xSamiliciousx - I had plans for them to get married in what would equate to another million chapters, but the good news is, everything has changed!_

_meadow567 - I have never seen Avatar (the cartoon or the film), though I do want to see the film._

_DreamerChild88 - Thank you, and I certainly will keep writing!_

_TVjunkie323 - :) Well, I'm keeping some things similar to how the show dealt with Marty. However, I like him, he's not going anywhere!_

_Bmangaka - the urge definately came back! It took a while, but it's back._

_sparkyCSI - nah, that chapter had been written for ages. But they are back now! Marty will be wrapped up after Snow Day, which will be coming up very soon._

_CaitlinTierney - Yup, lots of ideas for it, and none of them end up with Marty getting locked up. Bad CSINY writers! lol._

_Righto, first of all, big thanks to sparkyCSI - my fabulous beta, and Aphina, both of whom are forever helping me out of a jam (both with the story and with the emotional wreck that is my life). Secondly, I'm going to dedicate this chapter to Lozzarooni for giving me the kick I needed - thanks girl!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 232: I'm gonna stop lookin' back and start movin' on And learn how to face my fears**

Taylor lay in bed, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling. They had been slowly making their way around the house decorating – the bathroom had a new suite in it, the kitchen just needed a floor fitting, and the front room, Cordelia's and Riley's rooms were completely finished. They weren't structural cracks – just the few remaining shreds of evidence that there had once been a fire in the home – but they stretched over the ceiling forming an intricate spider web.

She'd left Flack and his brother to discuss tales of Asia not long after she'd sent Riley to bed much to the teenager's dismay. She had been fascinated at the stories of pandas and wanted to hear all about the last Chinese New Year Sean had celebrated. It wasn't that she didn't want to listen, because she had found it equally as entrancing, but she had been struggling to keep her eyes open.

Now that she was in bed, however, her eyes were wide awake. She had been trying to distract herself by attempting to identify a map of the New York Subway system in the cracks, but her mind kept shooting back to the wedding. And then she kept attempting to convince herself that Marty was happy… but then she remembered that not once had the smile reached his eyes.

She let out a sigh and brought her hands up behind her head. "He's happy," she muttered. It wasn't that she was jealous as Flack said. She truly wasn't. Under normal circumstances, she really would have been overjoyed. Maybe it was just the fact that he hadn't even told her he had broken up with Dallas. Or maybe-

"I can hear you thinking from the hallway," Flack told her as he walked into the room.

Taylor rolled herself over and put the lamp on. "I'm trying not to," she offered.

Flack shrugged his trousers off and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms as he disappeared into the bathroom. "So, while you're in a thinking mood, what do you say about Sean staying?" he called to her as the taps started running.

Taylor shrugged. "Of course he can stay the night. Do you need me to grab some clean sheets?"

"Atchuule, a sed ee cug scay hore a cupwl o weexs," he told her, toothbrush in his mouth.

Taylor frowned before turning to face him. "And to the average American who doesn't speak Colgate?"

Flack disappeared back into the bathroom before reemerging a minute later. He hurried over to the bed and slipped under the covers, leaning over Taylor to turn the light off. "Actually," he said, as the room descended into darkness. "I said he could stay a couple of weeks."

Taylor sat up in bed and turned to glare at him. "What?"

Flack took a deep breath and pulled Taylor back down beside him. "He's ready settle down and he needs somewhere while he sorts his career out." Sean had attended academy a few years after Flack had, but upon graduating, instead of joining the force, he had decided he needed to work out if following in the footsteps engrained by the men of the Flack family was the right path for him. Evidently, working in bars across Europe, Asia and Australasia had proved it was what he wanted to do.

"And the problem with him going back home and living with your parents – never mind," Taylor said, answering her own question before she asked it. "Is there any member of your family that your dad hasn't fallen out with?"

Flack shrugged. "He's still married to my mother," he offered. He shrugged again. "He's still under the delusion that Sam is his golden girl."

"Don, the only positive thing I could find about Marty getting married was that I was going to get my study back."

"You don't work from home much anymore. I thought you said Nancy didn't like it," Flack pointed out.

"Not the point," Taylor snapped at him. "We were also going to get some more alone time, you said."

Flack smiled patiently at her. "He's going to be a built in babysitter. If he's looking after Riley, that means we can go out a bit more."

Taylor glared at him. "Like that will happen. If he's a rookie, he's going to get stuck on the shift with the most unsociable hours for the next few months at least. And I thought Marty would be able to babysit, but he was working just as much. And the fact is, we can't expect Sean to babysit in his free time, just like we couldn't expect Marty to. He's going to want some free time to find a wife off a street corner."

"Are you more pissed about Sean staying, or Marty getting married?" Flack frowned.

Taylor took a deep breath. "Alright."

Flack narrowed his eyes. "That's it?"

Taylor nodded and smiled.

"I don't buy it," he told her flatly.

Taylor shrugged. "Well, at the end of the day, we're just helping him to be able to do his job. And if his job is important to him, we should support him. Even if it is a dangerous job he's doing. Right?"

Flack pulled a face. "Alright, you've got me. Is that a dig at me? Because I wear a vest, you know?"

Taylor shook her head. "Of course it's not. I'm just saying, some people can suddenly work out their true calling, and sometimes it's not the easiest or safest routes."

"I think this is one of those occasions where I just agree with you, isn't it?" Flack asked her.

Taylor settled back into the bed and pulled the duvet up under her chin. "Oh, and it turns out that the Cabbie Killer also sent me a text message when he send Reed one."

"Taylor!" Flack exploded.

Taylor looked up at him and shrugged. "What? It's not like I did anything about it."

"And is that out of choice, or simply because you didn't read the text message in time?"

Taylor glared at the ceiling.

"Exactly!" he shouted. "Taylor, if you'd have read that, you would have gone straight to him, and it would have been me almost missing Stella's baby shower."

"You mean you would have left me in the hospital?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

It didn't work. "You don't get it, do you? You just have no concept of danger!" he yelled at her.

"You're going to wake Riley up," Taylor told him through gritted teeth. "And for the record, I would have gone straight to Mac with the text message."

"Taylor, you had potentially the biggest scoop of the year handed to you on a plate," Flack pointed out. "You were never going to just go to Mac."

Taylor stared at him; mouth open in disbelief as an intense pissed off feeling crept over her. "Don, he can stay on the couch for a couple of nights, but that's it," Taylor huffed, before rolling over, her back to him, and yanking the covers over her shoulder.

Flack blew out a breath. "Fine," he muttered as he reached up and turned the light out.

Taylor lay on her side, glaring at the wall opposite. Finally, she let out a breath and rolled onto her other side to stare at the back of Flack's head. "I would have wanted to be involved, yes," she admitted. "But I wouldn't have gotten in that cab by myself, Don." When he didn't respond, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. "A couple of months ago, I probably would have," she told him in a low voice. "I accept that. But you know, I died. And I really don't want to do that again anytime soon. I have too much to lose."

Flack let out a sigh and rolled on his back, turning his head to study her profile. "Taylor, it's not the fact that you would or wouldn't have gotten into the cab. It's the fact that you want to be in the middle of it. I don't particularly want you to be dying again anytime soon either."

Taylor turned her head and gave him a sad smile. "We seem to keep having this conversation, don't we?"

"Too often," he agreed, reaching over and pulling her over.

Taylor nuzzled herself into the crook of her shoulder. "He can stay," she conceded.

* * *

Taylor sat at her desk singing along to Katy Perry, completely off key. With a frown, she minimized her virtually blank document and pulled up a game of Solitaire. Forty minutes later, she was still stuck in the losing streak, and nothing had been written, much, like nothing had been written all day.

With a sigh Taylor closed the game. Seconds later she was tapping her fingers on the desk, staring around the room at anything but the monitor. Finally her eyes fell on Reed's vacant desk. The official work line was that he was off on sick leave. According to Mac, Reed was contemplating whether or not he was going to return to journalism. He was doubting himself, but Taylor knew he'd be back – it was in his blood.

Finally, Taylor rolled her eyes and shut the computer down. She'd written nothing all morning and it was obvious that the writer's block wasn't about to go anywhere in a hurry. She gathered up her things, dropping them in her purse and headed out, up to Nancy's office.

"Nancy, I'm calling it a day," Taylor said, sticking her head around the door.

"No you're not," Nancy told her without looking up from the papers she was scribbling over in a red marker.

Taylor stopped and stuck her head back in the room. "Excuse me?"

"You're not going home. You have another four hours before your finishing time."

Taylor blinked and stepped in the room. "Since when?"

"Since a normal working day began," Nancy said, still not looking up from the papers.

"Yes, but, I have this afternoon booked off to pack," Taylor started to explain.

Nancy cut her off. "No buts, Turner. Reed is off sick and I need you to make sure that the website is covered."

"Since when?" Taylor asked, her voice becoming very high pitched.

"Since Reed went off sick and I discovered that web hits have dropped considerably. Do you know how much revenue we make from the website in this digital age?" Nancy asked her, finally putting her pen down to look at her.

Taylor frowned. "Nancy, I don't work on the website."

"Until Reed gets back, you do now," Nancy shrugged.

"Nancy, working on that website is a twenty-four hour job. I don't have twenty-four hours to spare any more – I have other commitments. I worked hard _not_ to have to work twenty-four hours," Taylor told her, trying very hard to keep her voice level.

"You're a journalist Taylor. It's a twenty-four hour, seven days a week, fifty two weeks a year job. And you're the one that signed up for it." Nancy pulled off her glasses and stared at Taylor. "And if you can't handle that anymore, then I will find someone who can."

Taylor blinked. "You are being completely unreasonable."

"I am asking no more from you than what any other editor would ask in this city," Nancy sat back. "I think it's fair to say that my predecessor was far too relaxed with you."

Taylor stared at the short haired woman in bewilderment. "Maybe, but he never asked me to do someone else's job."

Nancy took a deep breath. "Taylor, this paper was the last in the city to get a website and it only did that when I took over. The way things worked changed then. And if I say you need to cover Garret's blog, you will cover Garret's blog."

Taylor glared at her but managed to bite her tongue.

"And while we're on it, it looks like Garret will be out for the next two weeks so you will be covering it until then."

Taylor frowned. "I'll be covering one week of it."

"Um, did I miss the part where you suddenly became editor?" Nancy asked her coldly.

"No," Taylor told her. "But my friend is getting married. I fly out tomorrow."

Nancy returned her attention to her papers. "Yes, about that. Unfortunately, due to the lack of manpower, you're going to have to postpone your vacation arrangements and man the fort."

"But it's a wedding," Taylor blurted out. "I'm a bridesmaid. I can't exactly postpone it."

"You can if you want your job," Nancy shrugged.

"No," Taylor said suddenly.

"I beg your pardon?" Nancy asked her.

Taylor slowly shook her head. "I don't know," she said, just as surprised at herself.

"Right, well, back to your office."

Taylor turned, walking to the door. And then she stopped and turned around. "No," she repeated.

Nancy looked up from the paperwork she had resumed reviewing and cocked her head. "No?"

"No," Taylor said again, more firmly. "No, I'm not going to do it."

"You're not?" Nancy asked, an amused smile growing across her face.

'No, I'm not," Taylor said. "And you know why, Nancy? Because yes, maybe Alex was a softer boss, but he was a better boss. If he wanted us to do something out of our job description, he would have asked us, and because he would have asked, I would have said yes. But for you, I don't want to say yes. Because you're a bitch. And I quit," Taylor told her all in one breath.

"You walk out of this room, Turner, and I'll make sure you never work for a paper in fourteen states _including_ this one," Nancy told her calmly.

Taylor shrugged. "See if I care," she told her before she walked out of the room.

Strangely she didn't see a single person on her march back to her office. Even as she made a detour to the supplies cupboard, emptied out a couple of boxes of pens all over the floor, and then thrust her belongings into them before marching to her car.

As she dumped the boxes in her trunk she almost wished someone had bumped into her. Given her the chance to tell her she was insane before it was too late to do any more damage to her career. Only no one did, and as that realization set in, so did the panic.

She slammed the trunk shut, turned and ran.

* * *

Flack sat hunched over his desk trying to catch up on the mountain of paperwork that had been piling up over the past few weeks as he'd been working on the Cabbie Killer case. It was two familiar smells that drew his attention from the work: the coffee placed under his nose, and the scent of Taylor's perfume. "Thanks Tay," he murmured, reaching for the cardboard cup.

"Guess again."

He looked up and found Grace standing over him. "What did you do to your hair?" he blurted out.

Grace's hand shot up to her once blonde, now virtually black hair, and tucked it behind her ear. "You don't like it?" she asked him nervously.

"It's great," he told her, staring in bewilderment at it. It looked thicker and longer… and strangely familiar. "Just a bit of a shock, considering you were blonde yesterday."

"I broke up with my boyfriend," she explained, taking a seat at her desk opposite. "I wanted to try something completely different – see if I could attract a different kind of guy."

"Oh… sorry," he muttered, feeling like a complete jerk. "What, uh, happened?"

Grace shrugged. "He wasn't the one for me," she told him, staring straight at him.

Flack blinked uncomfortably, looking around the room for anything to distract him. She looked like Taylor and it was freaking him out. He was exceedingly grateful to find Bosco making his way over, despite the fact he was frowning. He jumped out of his seat and hurried over. "Bosco!"

"Dude, your girlfriend's going loco," the officer declared.

Flack stared at him. Bosco had a way of saying things without beating about the bush, but sometimes, he was too to the point and it took a minute to process. "What's up with Taylor?"

Bosco let out a sigh. "We got a call out to someone acting crazy – sitting on the edge of the bridge, muttering to themselves like they were gonna jump. Davis attended and said it was Taylor and that we should probably get you."

"Where is she?" Flack barked at him.

* * *

Taylor stared down at the water below her, staring _through_ it more than at it. _What the hell had she done?_ There was no way Nancy was going to take her back, and the truth was, she didn't really want to go back. But the fact Nancy had promised that finding another job was going to be impossible – she believed that. And she had bills to pay, a teenager in her care, a car, the rent, she was still paying the excess on her car insurance from the GTO taking a header into the East River, and the excess on the medical insurance… the more she thought about it, the tighter her hands gripped the stone beneath them.

"Tay?" Flack's voice floated over to her softly.

"I did something stupid," Taylor admitted without moving.

"Ya wanna tell me about it?" he asked her, his voice moving closer to her.

"I quit, Don," she whispered. "I quit my job. I don't… I… my…" she gasped, her chest feeling suddenly restrictive to her breathing.

"Tay, ya wanna come down off there for me?" Flack asked from her side, his tone of voice remaining calm and soothing.

Taylor finally moved her head to face him – her panicked brown eyes meeting his reassuring blue ones. He gave her a smile and reached his hand out towards her. Slowly, they wrapped around her waist. After a moment's resistance, her body relaxed into him. "It's gone, Don. I threw it away and I can't take it back," she sobbed into his shoulder.

Flack sighed and scooped her up, lifting her up and off the wall before setting her down on the path. "How about we leave here and go somewhere a little more private to discuss it?" he asked her, looking around at the people who had stopped their walk in the Park to watch a crazy woman sitting on the edge of one of the many bridges over the river.

Taylor glanced around suddenly feeling stupid and nodded. "I wasn't going to jump, you know," she whispered.

"Tay, that water is about eight foot down and eight feet deep. You'd have only gotten wet if you had," he pointed out, leading her over to his car. He opened the door and settled her in the passenger seat before heading for the driver's seat. "Now, what happened?"

"I quit my job," Taylor mumbled. "Nancy just pushed me too far – she was telling me that I had to cover for Reed."

Flack frowned. "People quit their jobs every day, Taylor. I just don't see many of them sitting on the edge of a bridge in the middle of Central Park."

Taylor looked up at him, eyes wide. "I was rude, Don. I told her where to go – I called her a bitch. And she told me that I wouldn't get a job in fourteen states, not that it matters because I only need one in this state. She's important, Don. If she says I'm not going to get another job, she's right. And we have rent, and bills – lots of bills – and then there's Riley who we are supposed to be getting into private school-"

"Taylor," Flack cut her off. "Breathe. Firstly, I have to say that the thought of you not working there anymore doesn't exactly sadden me. But I also have to point out – what am I?"

Taylor stared up at him, blinking at him in confusion.

Flack rolled his eyes. "_Working_ detective, Taylor. What do you think I do with my earnings? They can cover us until you find something else. And you will find something else. I'm sure if you put a call in to Alex he would put in a good word for you. And being a journalist isn't the end all of careers. My mother had a very satisfying life as a housewife."

Taylor's mouth fell open in horror. "A _housewife_?" she repeated.

Flack smirked. "I'm winding you up. But there _are_ other careers out there. "

* * *

_Three days later_

Stella put the last of her toiletries into her bag and placed it in the suitcase, zipping it shut. With a small groan, she pulled it off the bed and made her way to the front door. She was the last one to catch a flight out to Montana. Taylor, Flack and Riley had flown out two days previously with Danny and Lindsay, and she was originally booked onto the same flight with Mac, Adam, Sid and Hawkes the day before. However, at the last minute, her OB-GYN had cancelled her check up and rescheduled it for that morning.

She had been tempted to say 'whatever' and get on the flight anyway, but as she was only a couple of weeks to her due date, she wanted to double check she would be alright to fly and told Mac she would meet him in Montana. She had been convinced the doctor would have said no, and Mac would probably have missed the wedding to stay with her, and she didn't want that. She had been pleasantly surprised when the doctor had told her that she was still fine to fly, and pregnant women could fly in their last week.

So she had gone home and was finishing up with the last items of clothing, waiting for Marty to come collect her. He had been unable to get the time off work, but had promised Taylor he would get Stella safely to the airport. There was a knock at the door as she arrived at it, and she opened it, finding Marty waiting for her with a smile. "You're ready?" he asked her.

"Very much so," Stella nodded. "I weekend relaxing is just what I need." She gave him a smile and then sighed. "Or maybe not."

Marty cocked his head at her.

"I do believe my waters have just broken," Stella told him calmly.

Marty glanced down. "Oh hell," he muttered. "Ok Stella, where is your overnight bag?"

Stella pointed at the suitcase. "Most of it is in that," she started to explained before doubling over and letting out a cry of pain.

"Welcome to the world of contractions," Marty told her, grabbing the suitcase with one hand, Stella's hand with the other. "Just remember to breath, and we're going to make our way to the elevator."

Slowly, he led her to the elevator and they got in. Two floors from the ground, it lurched to a halt with some truly horrific screeching noises. Marty gave Stella a smile, and started hammering the button.

"Marty, tell me the elevator hasn't just stopped," Stella told him through gritted teeth as she fought back the pain in another contraction.

"I would," Marty told her, pulling out his cell phone as he hit the emergency alarm button. "But I would be lying, and you're too good at your job to know I was lying. But it's okay. It's your first child. You're looking at an average of sixteen hours labor, so there's no hurry."

Stella, leant over, grabbing at his arm in a vice-like clamp. "Sixteen hours? Of this?" she hissed at him. "I don't think so. Get me out of here Marty, and get me to the drugs."

Marty grimaced as her nails stuck into his skin, and flicked his phone open, dialing 911. "Yeah, I'm stuck in an elevator with a pregnant woman," he told the woman on the other end of the phone before explaining the situation fully.

"It's going to be fine," he told Stella. "But I kinda need to check things out," he added, nodding his head at her.

It took a second for Stella to work out what he was implying. "Hell no, Marty. You are not about to be sticking your head or hands _anywhere_." She was cut short by another groan of pain, and she double over, sinking to the floor.

"Stell, trust me when I say, I would be happier if there were certain parts of your anatomy I didn't have to see, but your contractions are too close together for me not to be a little worried."

Stella leant back against the mirrored wall of the lift and nodded, hitching the dress up out of the way.

Internally, Marty was cursing his head off. She was crowning already. Not only was he in a confined space, with nothing to help him other than the contents of a suitcase, somehow he'd managed to avoid all the births in the ER at Urgent Care Center where he worked, but the last time he had been on the "Baby" rotation was _before_ he worked in the morgue.

Externally, he reached for Stella's suitcase and unzipped it, routing through it, until he found a towel.

Stella glanced over at him. "Please tell me that's to wipe my head with?"

Marty leant over into the case and handed over a shirt. "Use that," he told her.

Stella leant over with a growl, grabbing his shirt collar and yanking him towards her. "Marty. I. Am. Not. Giving. Birth. In. An. Elevator," she told him, grounding out the words.

Marty loosened the grip on his shirt and pulled back. "Hate to break it to you, Bonasera, but yeah, you are. Now sit back and use those breathing tricks you learnt, because this is going to be over very quickly."

In reality, it was over in an hour, to Marty, it felt like three. To Stella, it felt like time had stopped. By the time the elevator made it to the ground floor, Stella was holding a beautiful baby boy. "Thank you," she muttered at Marty as she was wheeled into an ambulance.

* * *

"You ready?" Flack asked, sticking his head around the door.

Danny brought his attention away from the mirror to his suited friend. "Yeah."

Flack stepped into the room. "You're not nervous?"

"Nope," Danny told him, shaking his head. "Actually, I'm not. I thought I would be, but I really want this."

Flack grinned, clapping him on the back. "Glad to hear it. For a moment, I was afraid I was going to have to chase around the bars in Bozeman trying to find you."

Danny laughed. "Once upon a time, maybe. Not now." He frowned, looking at Flack. "You got the ring, right?"

Flack patted his pocket. "You bet. And speaking of rings, we should head outside. It's nearly time."

Danny gave his appearance one last check before taking a deep breath and striding purposely out of the room.

Flack was about to follow him when his phone started ringing. He pulled it out, frowning at the name on the display. "Taylor, don't tell me Lindsay isn't there."

* * *

"Actually," Taylor replied, already breathless as she wove in and out of the crowds in the small airport, trying to make her way to the exit. "I'm not there."

"_Stella's plane was delayed?"_

"No," Taylor told him. "Stella was. She gave birth to a little boy a couple of hours ago, and in all the excitement of Marty delivering him in an elevator, they forgot to call and stop me getting to the airport. And now I have to get back to the middle of nowhere, so you have to delay them, because missing one bridesmaid is one thing, but two of them?"

She hung up, clutched the skirt of her dress to her, and yanked her heels off, before charging full pelt though the parking lot to the truck she had borrowed from Ben.

* * *

"Dann-o," Flack called, catching up to the groom. "Yo, wait a minute."

Danny turned, still walking backwards down the hallway. "Don, I've been waiting ages for this, I don't want to wait any longer."

"Yeah, well, I have good news and bad news."

Danny stopped. "Tell me Lindsay hasn't done a runner."

Flack shook his head. "Stella's a mommy. But she's a mommy in New York, and Taylor's making her way back from the airport. She's gonna be a good half hour."

Danny nodded calmly and turned, heading in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going?" Flack called after him.

"To let Lindsay know," he called back over his shoulder. "I'm letting her know it's not my fault the wedding's been delayed."

Flack gaped after him. "It's bad luck to see the bride!"

Danny ignored him, heading for Lindsay's bedroom. Inside he could hear her and Katy laughing like they were little children again, and the sound bought a smile to his face. He rapped on the door and moments later, Lindsay opened it, her eyes shining. She froze when she saw Danny.

"If you're about to tell me you're calling it off-"

"Lindsay Monroe, I am marrying you. Today. However, there is going to be a slight delay in this process."

Lindsay's eyes widened. "What?"

"Stella had a boy and never made it on the plane. From what I can gather, nobody told Taylor this and she's on her way back from Bozeman."

Lindsay let out a small sigh of relief. "You do realize that it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, don't you?"

Danny shrugged. "I've been told. However, I refuse to believe you could be considered bad luck." He leant over and kissed her cheek. "You look beautiful." He stepped back. "See you at the other end of the isle."

* * *

Taylor followed Katy up the grass isle. The marquee had been erected the previous day ready for the partying later that evening, and as a precautionary measure should it have started raining, but it wasn't needed. The sun was still shining, the air was still warm, and despite the small crowd, everyone looked happy and relaxed. In the little orchard, the venue looked beautiful. And as Taylor took her place and watched Lindsay walk up the isle too, she realized her friend looked just as beautiful.

Taylor was mesmerized, barely paying any attention to what the minister was saying, as she stared at Lindsay and Danny. The only word she could summon do describe the pair was _happy_.

She glanced over, catching Flack staring at her. "Love you," she mouthed at him. She smiled as he mouthed the words back.

"Montana."

Danny's voice broke the spell and she focused her attention on him.

"If someone would have told me a couple of years ago that I was going to get married, I probably would have laughed at them. If they told me I was going to marry a country girl, I definitely would have laughed at them. And yet, here I am, in the middle of a field-"

"Orchard," Lindsay corrected him.

"Orchard," Danny repeated. "In the middle of the country, and all I can tell you is that nothing feels more right. I love you Lindsay, and I promise you that I'm going to look after you and your heart even when all that's left on me on this planet is the memory of me." He took the ring off Flack and slipped it on her finger. "You're mine now."

"Danny, there was a time when I thought I would never be happy again, much less be able to love again. I'd convinced myself that I had had my turn and I would never experience it again. But you broke down my defenses and you worked your way into my heart. I promise you that I'm never going to let you leave it, because the thing is, Danny, I've always been yours."

The tears that Taylor had been desperately trying to keep hidden away escaped as Lindsay slipped the ring on Danny's finger.


	234. Unofficial Visits

_bad2wolf2mcgee - Yeah, it had escaped my mind too, I'll be honest. And I certainly am impressed! It took me much longer to catch up - but I truely hope it's not affected your exams though!_

_Lozzarooni - Yeah, I agree with the labour. I think I rushed that like the chapter, and looking at it now, there are parts I wish I added, but I guess that's often the case._

_TVjunkie323 - Nancy wrote herself - I have no idea where she came from, but I'm certainly glad Taylor had the balls to do what I wouldn't, but she'll be better off for it!_

_Laplandgurl - LOL, I can certainly relate to how Taylor feels after quitting my own job and effectively temping since. It is actually really stressful, as it sounds like you know! I'm glad you're sleeping now!_

_Aphina - See, this is because of your help! So thank you! Yup yup - she is creepy :P_

_DreamerChild88 - I'm glad you liked it. Taylor's going to be relatively calm about it all - for now!_

_meadow567 - Hey stranger! I hope you've been keeping well?_

_sparkyCSI - Well, if I have my way, it's going to be complete chaos, what with moving across the Atlantic, :D. I hope the move went well and you're not suffering too much without the essentials of TV and internet!_

_Bmangaka - Oh yeah I've been watching it! I have sacrificed sleep on some nights. My favourites won too! (I stuck money on them as soon as they were announced as smei finalists and I won! Yay!) Although i did like the impressionist. Who did you want to win? Yeah, I think I can bring those boys back._

_CaitlinTierney - Aw, thank you! I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long this time?_

_xSamiliciousx - Thank you! She would have gotten wet if she had! But she will get a something sorted work wise soon._

_This chapter hasn't been beta'd, but I knew with the week ahead of me, that if I didn't post it today, it was going to be ages before it went up. Please excuse any mistakes - I did attempt to read through it with as much care as one can muster after being awake for 34 hours straight - it was our End of Year Ball yesterday and I didn't actually start work until 2am (after watching Chipmunk, Biffy Clyro and a Radio 1 DJ (my 'old friend' Greg James), who were all actually my warm-up acts) Best night ever! Yeah, I'm rambling (and bragging ever so slightly), but basically, all mistakes are mine!_

_There are some spoilers. Although not directly lifted, I have the start of Snow Day coming into play as well as an episode from CSI: Miami - Bang, Bang, Your Debt._

* * *

**Chapter 233: Unofficial Visits**

Taylor leant back, allowing the steaming water to cascade over her back as she relaxed in the shower. It was the middle of the day and she had only just gotten around to getting washed and dressed. Since she had returned from Montana a week ago, she had done little more than empty the TiVo of the shows she needed to catch up on, run, and visit Stella. Hell, she hadn't seen a ghost for a whole ten days as it was.

A short while later, she felt ready to face the world. Taylor stepped out of the shower and pulled the towel off the radiator and around her body.

"I need your help."

Taylor screamed and whirled around, her eyes falling on a ghost in front of her. He was a white male, with dark hair and eyes… and he was wearing a bright white suit.

"Who are you?" She swallowed, pulling the towel tightly around herself.

"Someone who needs your help."

"But you're in white, which means your death has been solved. So why are you here – shouldn't you have someone who can see you wherever you're from?" she frowned. "Or does this mean I have someone else to work with?"

"I don't have anyone," the ghost told her. "I work by myself. Although I'm pretty certain Alexx can sense me." The ghost shook his head. "But that's not the point. You can see me. And I need your help."

Taylor sighed. "Let me get dressed and you have my undivided attention."

"Thank you."

"Wait!" Taylor cried as the ghost began to fade away. "What's your name?"

"Tim," he told her. "Tim Speedle. But everyone called me Speed."

Taylor nodded. "Give me ten minutes and then meet me in my kitchen." He nodded and disappeared, leaving Taylor alone in her bathroom. Placing both of her hands on the side of her sink, she glanced up at her reflection in the mirror above and sighed.

Ten minutes later, she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of orange juice before she sat down at the table opposite the ghost. "Right, Speed... what's the deal?"

"I need your help," he told her.

"You mentioned that," Taylor pointed out. "I just want to know how I can help."

The ghost sighed, running his hand through his hair. "It's my team. I think they're falling apart."

Taylor frowned. "So, are you some form of cop?" she guessed.

He nodded. "Sort of."

"Look," Taylor frowned. "You came to me. I don't have to help. And unless you stop with the cryptic bull and tell me straight, you can find someone else to help you."

"I was a CSI," he told her. "In Miami. And one day, about three years ago, something went wrong and I ended up shot on duty."

Taylor stared at him and cocked her head. "In a jewelry store?"

He nodded. "You know about it?"

Taylor shrugged. "It made the news, a faulty gun, or something?"

"Or something," he muttered. "Anyway, I stuck around. I wanted to make sure that there was someone looking out for my team. Lord knows they managed to get themselves into some form of trouble on a weekly basis."

Taylor suddenly let out a dry laugh. "Oh, I can see that," she agreed. "I think it comes with the job."

Tim nodded. "Quite."

"So how is this week any different?" she asked him.

Speed sighed, rubbing his eyes, suddenly seeming tired. "It's my old partner, Eric Delko. I need you to talk to him for me."

"About what?" she asked suspiciously.

"He saw me," Speed admitted. "And he thinks he's going crazy."

The skepticism washed over Taylor. "How on earth am I going to do that?" She mimed putting a phone to her ear. "Oh, Eric, hi. You don't know me, and I don't know you, but I wanted you to know that you're not going crazy, seeing your dead partner – he's just concerned about you.

Speed nodded. "You're right," he told her calmly. "I don't think a phone call will cut it."

"Exactly," Taylor agreed. And then her mouth dropped open. "You're implying I should fly to Miami?"

"I think the in-person route would work a lot better," Speedle agreed.

"I'm sure it would," Taylor told him dry. "And how do you expect me to pull that one off?"

He shrugged at her. "Well, it's not like you have a job anymore."

"How do you know…?" Taylor shook her head. "Never mind," she sighed as she started to gather her things up.

"So does this mean you'll do it?" Speed asked her.

"It means I'm going to ask Don what he thinks," she sighed at him.

* * *

Taylor headed through the precinct, making her way around the maze of desks to Flack's. His hands were flying furiously over the keyboard, the only pause coming when he was referring to something in the papers next to him. When she was a few feet from the desk, she stopped, doing a double take at the woman opposite.

Flack, however, sensed her presence and looked up, smiling brightly. "Taylor?"

Taylor returned the smile although it was quickly hidden by a frown. "You got a minute?"

Flack frowned and stood up, a frown falling across his own face as Taylor grabbed his arm and tugged him into the quieter hallway. "What's up?"

"When the hell did Grace dye her hair?" she hissed at him. "And have it styled like mine?" she indicated to her long black tresses.

"Just before we went to Montana," Flack told her. "Yeah, it is a little weird. I think she has a crush on me."

Taylor raised her eyebrows incredulously. "How on earth have you managed to fit that ego behind your desk?"

Flack grinned. "Because I have you to bring me straight back down to earth," he explained, leaning over and kissing her cheek. "You got a ghost?"

"Yeah," Taylor nodded, leaning back against the wall. "His name is Speed."

"Speed?" Flack repeated. "Is that the clue he gave you? Motor vehicle accident?"

Taylor shook her head. "No. He said everyone called him Speed. He's from Miami. He needs my help."

Flack frowned, staring down at the woman in front of him. "That's a very vocal ghost."

"He died a few years back," Taylor explained. "He's like Maddy or Aiden, or possibly Erik. I don't know. But apparently he doesn't have some equivalent of me, and he needs me to help him out with a friend. A living friend," she added.

"Miami?" Flack asked. "You mean you want to voluntarily _fly_ to Miami. A week after all the drama we had getting you to and from Montana."

Taylor gave him a glum nod. "Yeah."

"Well, that's fine with me, but you do realize that I can't exactly go with you. I'm snowed under with paperwork, and I just took that time off to go to Danny's wedding," he told her.

"I know," Taylor sighed. "I just wanted to check with you. Hopefully it will only be a few days. And it turns out I have a few air miles to use."

"Just call me when you can," he told her.

* * *

Taylor stepped out of the airport and joined the queue for the shuttle to the car rentals. The flight itself hadn't actually been that bad. For the first time, she had been able to focus on completing the crossword in the back of the in-flight magazine. The shuttle ride was quick and painless, as was collecting her rental. Speed didn't appear until they were on the toll road, heading to the city.

"Thank you," he told her.

The car jerked across two lanes as Taylor jumped at his appearance. "Here's the deal," she yelled at him. "No creeping up on me when I'm driving. It ain't gonna hurt you if I crash, but it sure as hell will hurt me."

Speed nodded. "Point taken. My bad."

Taylor took a deep breath and turned the ac off. "Why does it always go cold when a ghost appears?"

"We're dead," Speed shrugged. "Our bodies can't exactly expel heat anymore."

"So where does your friend live?" she asked him.

Speed shook his head. "You want to head to the beach. They're at a crime scene."

Taylor did as he said and followed his directions, pulling up just a way up from a cordoned off area. She stepped out of the car and was instantly met by a wall of warmth. "I wish I had dressed for this weather," she muttered to herself, sparing a glance at the jeans and striped sweater she was wearing.

"This way," Speed told her, heading over to the crime scene which was quickly drawing a small crowd. The crime scene was a burnt out Range Rover, just by the ocean. Even from behind the crime scene, Taylor could pick out the scent of burnt flesh and gasoline.

"Please tell me that helping you doesn't mean helping the victim," Taylor muttered, turning her head to the ocean to take in a deep breath of the salty air that was blowing inland.

"I keep an eye on the living," Speed told him. "Not to the same extent Aid does with you, but similar."

Taylor's head whipped around. "Aid?"

Speedle nodded. "Aiden. She's your-"

"I know who Aiden is," Taylor cut him off. "But I'm curious as to why you call her Aid. That's a pet name." She took a step back to examine the dead CSI. "You're the mystery guy she's seeing!" she exclaimed.

Speedle just smiled at her. "That's Eric," he said, nodding his head at the tall dark haired man, bent over examining something in the sand.

"And he's the one who you want me to help you with?"

Speed nodded.

"So what's wrong with him?" Taylor asked him, watching him work as a pretty blonde went to join him.

"He thought he could see me in the grocery store the other night," Speed explained, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"And could he see you?" Taylor asked curiously.

Speed nodded. "He had a brush with death a few months ago. Normally I'm not so careless."

Taylor shifted her weight and frowned. "Well, why is it so bad that he sees you?"

"The doctors told him that he might start hallucinating things. I don't want to set him back. Besides, I don't want to give him any false hope."

Taylor glanced back at the crouching man. There was something about him that radiated sadness. "I don't think there's anything wrong with giving someone hope," she told the ghost.

"He's not supposed to see me," Speed muttered.

"See, here's what I think about that rule," Taylor muttered, turning to him. "If the Powers That Be didn't want certain people to see ghosts, why do they bring those people back from the dead? If that doesn't scream loop-hole, I don't know what does?"

Speed studied her, his dark eyes thoughtful. "I can see why Aid likes you. I thought you'd be more like Maddy, but you're not as loopy."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Taylor said slowly.

Speed nodded before turning back to Eric. "There's a guy at the crime lab that went through my locker. He stole my credit cards." He caught Taylor's confused expression. "It's not that I care about the money. It's the principle of it."

"You want me to say something," Taylor said, the reason why she was really there dawning on her. "You know I could have just called up the bank and let them know you were dead."

"I know, but Aid told me to get you down here," he smiled. "Now I see why. She's one smart woman."

Taylor nodded. "Alright, so let's come up with a plan that lets Eric know some doofas is stealing your identity whilst also letting him know his friend is still looking out for him."

* * *

Flack was still completely focused as he tried to get up to date on the paperwork he had been happily ignoring.

"Donnie," a voice called to him softly.

Flack sat upright and looked around. Somehow, buried deep in all the paperwork, everyone had disappeared from the pit leaving him alone. He swung his eyes back to the table in front of him and yelled, falling backwards of his seat. "Louie?" he cried from the floor.

"Hey there, Donnie," Louie grinned at him. Flack knew exactly what Louie had looked like when he had been pulled out of the East River in the trunk of Taylor's car, and even dead, nothing had changed.

"What the hell?" Flack yelled.

Louie cocked his head, allowing a small piece of brain matter to fall from the hole that was still missing from the side of his cranium, causing Flack to shout again. "You know, you're just going to attract attention that way," Louie shrugged. "And I could go with you not being on mandatory sick leave."

Flack straightened himself, heaving himself back onto his chair. "What are you doing here, Lou? Shouldn't you have moved on, or whatever it is you dead guys are supposed to do? Your killer is dead."

"Technically, yeah. But it's not all done with," Louie told him.

"What the hell does that mean?" Flack demanded.

Louie leant back against a filing cabinet. "We can assume that Tanglewood isn't a threat anymore, but that in itself is a threat."

Flack let out a long sigh. "Louie, if you're gonna talk cryptic to me, you can piss off, because it's too late at night for this, and I certainly didn't sign on for this."

Louie shrugged. "I can go talk to Taylor then," as he began to slowly fade out.

"Wait!" Flack cried. Louie returned to his full-strength, semi-corporeal form. "What do you need?" he asked resignedly.

Louie sat down on the desk heavily, another piece of ghostly brain matter splattering to the floor. "You have a problem, and it comes in the form of the Irish Mob."

Flack blinked. "The Irish Mob?"

Louie nodded. "They're moving in as the biggest suppliers of drugs."

"I've heard the whispers from narco," Flack agreed. "The question is, how does that affect a homicide detective and a ghost?"

"Well," said Louie. "You get the credit for what will be the biggest drug bust in this city in decades."

Flack eyed him suspiciously. "And you?"

"Maybe I get to redeem myself of some of the sins I made in life," Louie shrugged.

* * *

_Thank you all for continuing to read, review and add this story to your alerts and favourites... And for keeping me sane!_


	235. I'm in Miami, Girl!

_sparkyCSI - lol, the amount of times I've managed that with a review - I always try to copy them now. My plot has been completely changed, so most of what you know is changing! I'll fill you in and bounce some ideas_

_meadow567 - Good! Thank you!_

_Lozzarooni - oh, I hadn't thought of a hostage situation! lol, i like it! I have plans for Louie and Flack, which will hopefully pull in a few surprises. I miss Speed. He was my favourite too_

_bad2wolf2mcgee - I hope your exam went well! I remember my psychology exam... that's a lie. The only thing I can remember is Pavlovs dogs! (It may have explained the grade too!) Yeah, I hope yours goes much better!_

_RK9 - don't worry about it - I'm just glad the disappearance isn't because you stopped liking! But, here is your encore presentation of the chapter. Thanks again!_

_xSamiliciousx - It's a short stop over in Miami, then I think maybe a chapter or two until Snow Day!_

_CaitlinTierney - The ugly child? lol, I love that - it's so true! I've all but stopped watching it in all honesty, so I have no idea if the characters are now OOC. Meh! Anyway, I had a plot I was working to, in it they got married in January (it's May now, and you know how slowly time passes), so it was gonna be a while. The the other night, I got my plot, and pressed delete. All I know is it's gonna happen a lot sooner! And there will be more Riley too!_

_TVjunkie323 - Speed is still my favourite character in Miami. Grace should hopefully prove interesting, but she will definately be dealt with. Oh, yes, I am very glad you still like!_

_DreamerChild88 - I don't know where the pairing came from, but he's going to be around because of it. It's my stand to the series for getting a rid of him (and I don't care if it was Rory's choice to walk!)_

_Bmangaka - I loved Spelbound too - I had them as my favorites. But I liked the impressionist too - he was hilarious! I hadn't planned on sending them anywhere, but the problem is, now you've got the idea of a numb3rs crossover in my head! So, who knows?_

_Laplandgurl - Good on your brother! I bet it was a scary moment for him, but I'm glad it worked out. Yeah, I actually liked Cooper until then. I was thinking of the writing angle, but a plot bunny appeared when I was at work, so I'm going to think about that one - we'll see!_

_Well guys and girls, a million years ago, I had a competition for something - can't remember what (I moved and chaged jobs about three times in between all that), but anyway, the outcome was that I promised RK9 that I would use her wonderful character Bayden from_ Love on a Canvas _(it's a CSI:Miami story). I would honestly reccomend you check it out because I can't do the character justice._

_There are spoilers for CSI:Miami 6x04; Bang, Bang, Your Debt, although I don't think I actually used any direct quotes! And of course, I have eternal thanks for my beta, sparky!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 234: I'm in Miami, Girl!**

Taylor sat underneath a palm tree on the edge of the beach, staring out at the serene turquoise sea. It was hard to believe that such a brutal death had occurred in such a peaceful space. She shifted her weight so the crime scene was just out of her sight, and as she stared out across the white sand, she had a sudden feeling of déjà vu.

She let out a heavy sigh, pulling her legs up underneath her. If she was honest, the job situation was completely terrifying (and truthfully, she was going to regret the spur of the moment trip to Florida when the credit card statement hit her), but aside from that, she was quite content with her life. And the one thing the beautiful view was doing, was making her think about how happy she was with Flack – even with the arguments, she loved him. And she knew the only reason he protested to her activities as much as she did was _because_ he loved her.

Riley soon began creeping into her thoughts. Ideally she wanted the girl to go to a private school – she deserved the best Taylor could give her, but realistically, the best didn't look like what she wanted. If she could get her in the state of New York, then that would have to be better than a daily four hour commute – the kid could actually have a (heavily supervised and approved) social life.

She shook her head. Right now, her focus had to be on a ghost. Thoughts of Don and Riley could wait until she was in her motel room. She glanced over at the crime scene, surprised to see one of the CSIs studying her as his hands moved frantically behind a large notebook. He eventually noticed her staring at him, and he shifted away, pulling a previous sheet back over and resumed his focus on the crime scene. Taylor barely gave him a mental shrug before her eyes fell on the dead CSI.

He was standing a little way behind the burnt out Land Rover, staring out at the sea, his hands stuck in his pocket. Now, he was wearing jeans and a dark shirt.

With a resolve to help both CSIs, Taylor had wandered over to the spot she was currently located so that she might have a conversation with Speedle without Joe Public listening in. They had both agreed that the first step was to let Eric see him again, but without talking to him. If they could manage to help Eric without a single conversation taking place, then all the better, because, as Speed put it, there was no way that conversation was going to work out well.

The ghost in question disappeared from the horizon, only to appear in front of her, back in white. They had also agreed that Speed shouldn't wear his white 'uniform'. Taylor had pointed out that unless he looked as much like he did before he died, then the easier it might be for Eric to accept.

"Well?" Taylor asked him.

Speed just frowned at her, although Taylor was certain that was a normal expression for him.

"Look, we agreed – we can't rush this. A full out conversation will have him checking into the loony bin, quicker than you can say Miami," Taylor pointed out.

Speed nodded. "I know. I just… I feel like I'm dragging this out. Maybe you_ should_ talk to him."

"And that will get _me_ stuck in that loony bin," Taylor informed him. "And we don't want that either. I have, however, been thinking," she added.

Speed cocked his head at her as she got to her feet.

"I think we should see Horatio," she told him, brushing the sand off her jeans. "He has a right to know what his team is doing, especially when they shouldn't be doing it. And my gut is telling me we can trust him."

Speed nodded. "You can trust Horatio with your life. He will do anything he can to help his family. And his team is his family."

* * *

The Miami Dade Crime lab was completely different to both the New York one, and the Las Vegas one, Taylor noted as she walked in the building. This one was open planned, light, bright, and airy, and felt like it had been taken from the Mediterranean.

"I like this place," Taylor muttered under her breath as Speedle discreetly led her past the reception desk and through the corridors to Horatio's office.

"It's nice," Speed agreed.

"You don't really say much, do you?" Taylor mumbled.

Speed shrugged at her. "Never really did. That's it." He pointed at the door in front of them.

Taylor took a deep breath before walking up to it and knocking. After going to the beach, she had insisted that she check into the motel, shower and change before meeting Horatio again. She hadn't come prepared for the Miami heat, and she had been feeling grimy, especially after the flight. Now, dressed in a white sun dress, she felt prepared for her conversation.

She heard Horatio call "enter," and she stepped in the room.

The red haired man looked up at her, and slowly, cocked his head as a warm smile spread over his face. "Ms. Turner," he greeted her, rising to his feet. "Ms. Turner, to what do I owe the pleasure of this reunion?"

Taylor walked over to his desk and sat in the chair opposite after Horatio had indicated to it. He sat back down as she did and waited for her to say something.

"In New York," Taylor started, reciting the speech she had planned in the shower. "When we met, you told me that everything would work out and that I could trust you."

Horatio nodded patiently at her.

"Well, I need to tell you something, and it's going to sound beyond crazy, but I need you to trust me."

Horatio took a deep breath, cocked his head in the other direction and again, nodded. "Go on," he encouraged her softly.

Taylor returned her nod, never breaking eye contact. "You also said that you didn't think I attended crime scenes because my editor sent me. And you were right. I didn't. And I still don't. I visit them because the ghosts of the victims visit me. And that's why I'm here. Because of a ghost. The ghost of an old colleague of yours who needs my help to help him help a living colleague of yours."

He stared at her for a moment, processing what she had just blurted out in one breath. "Speedle," he said simply.

Taylor let out a breath, slumping into the chair. "Yeah. He's your team's guardian angel," she confessed. "But there's only so much he can do."

"Which is why he came to you?" Horatio asked.

Taylor blinked. "You're taking this a little better than I expected," she told him bluntly.

Horatio smiled gently. "And which, which member of my team is in trouble?"

"Actually," Taylor frowned, picking at her dress nervously. "It's two of them. But Speed only wants me to help one of them. And after a conversation with Speed, I think you need to let me."

"I'm listening, Ms. Turner."

"Eric Delko. He's struggling," Taylor explained.

Horatio nodded, the smile falling from his face. "I suspected he hadn't been recovering from the shooting as well as he said he had."

"It's not his work," Taylor quickly pointed out. "It's him. He's doubting himself, and apparently he's not talking to anybody, particularly Callie."

"Calleigh," Horatio corrected her absently. "And I take it," he paused. "I take it this is related to the second person?"

Taylor nodded. "Yeah. Your A/V guy has basically stolen Tim's credit cards and is racking up a huge bill on them."

"The main problem, from Eric's point of view, is that he will think Tim is alive," Horatio stated.

Taylor blinked. "You're good," she told him. "But yes."

"And Speedle came to you because he knew if he approached Eric himself that it might hinder his recovery, if not set him back."

Taylor blinked in amazement again. "Damn. It took me longer to work that out, and I was talking to Speed. But, again, yes. I also think that Eric needs to be the one to work out what Dan Cooper is doing, and that's the part Speed is a little wary of, because if I do that, I need to be able to get into Dan and Eric's lives to manipulate this somehow."

"And you need me to authorize your presence in the lab," Horatio finished.

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "I have every respect in the world for Mac, but can I take you back to New York with me?"

"Unfortunately Taylor," Horatio smiled. "Unfortunately, my team needs me here." He reached into his drawer and pulled something out. "Normally, I would thank you for bringing this matter to my attention and I would see to it myself. However, in this instance," he paused and frowned. "Ms. Turner, can you prove that you can see Speedle for me?" he asked, almost reluctantly.

Taylor turned to the ghost and cocked her head. Her eyes grew large as she listened to what he said. "Oh come on," she groaned. "You can't feed me that and not give me more." She sighed and turned to Horatio. "He said, he knows what you did in Rio, and it's something I would love to know as a journalist, but I'm not allowed to know unless you want me to, and he suspects that you don't want me to."

Horatio frowned. "I don't you want to know that," he admitted. "And I'm sorry for asking. I just needed to make sure." He handed the item over he had pulled from the drawer. "This is a clearance pass. If anyone asks, you are from IAB. With Stetler taking a vacation, no one will question this."

Taylor looked down at the pass and pulled a face. "IAB? Great. Everyone's going to hate me."

"You're not here to make friends," Speed pointed out.

"No, I'm here to help yours," she sighed. "So what's our next move?"

"We need to go back to the crime scene."

* * *

Taylor awoke the following morning and rolled onto her side, staring at the empty space beside her. It felt an age since the last time she had spent the night alone in her bed. She yawned and pulled back the covers, flicking the news on. Seeing there was very little of interest happening, she pulled herself out of bed, knowing that if she didn't get showered sooner, rather than later, she would be being pestered by a ghost.

She was finishing braiding her hair when Speed finally appeared.

"We need to get the crime lab," he told her by way of greeting.

"Good morning Taylor," Taylor muttered to herself. "Good morning Tim. You're looking good this morning – I feel good, thank you. You're looking well yourself – Thanks, Tim. Yes, I did have a good night's sleep, actually. I was a little wary of this motel, especially when I saw the price, but the sheets smell fresh and the room is clean."

Speed watched her, his face barely giving away a hint of emotion, before he glanced around the room. "I had a crime scene here one," he said, more to himself than Taylor. "If I remember rightly, there were double figures of bodily samples on those bed sheets."

Taylor leapt off the bed with a squeal. "Oh, dear god, that's gross!"

"I was surprised," Speed said, nodding thoughtfully.

"And on that note," Taylor growled, snatching her purse from the side and striding the few paces to the door. "We are wrapping this up today, because I will be damned if I'm staying here another night." She shuddered and stepped out into the already humid air.

"I'm sorry," Speed apologized as he walked through the door. "I didn't think."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "What have you been up to this morning?" she asked him, changing the subject. Clearly, he wasn't expecting it, and shifted uncomfortably. Taylor stopped in her tracks, midway down the steps to the ground floor and narrowed her eyes at him. "What did you do?" she demanded.

"I saw Eric this morning," Speed admitted.

Taylor's eyes narrowed. "Go on."

Speed stared back at her until he sighed suddenly. "Have you ever considered a career as a detective? You would get the perp to crack like that," he told her, clicking his fingers.

"No," she told him. "And what happened with Eric?"

"I spent the night by his bedside, convincing him to go back to the crime scene."

"Come again?" Taylor asked, resuming her trip down the stairs after spotting the cleaning lady who was giving her a funny look.

"I waited until he was asleep," Speed protested. "And then I spent the night by his bed whispering into his ear that he needed to go back to the beach." He waited for Taylor to step into the car before materializing through it and taking the seat next to her. "He missed something yesterday."

"What?" Taylor asked him.

"A piece of tubing." He gave Taylor a half smile. "Look, whilst he was processing that with _Dan_," he spat the name. "I was looking in Dan's locker."

Taylor stared at him, unable to help rolling her eyes again. "And you couldn't have looked in the locker when Eric was sleeping?"

Speed's mouth flapped open and closed for a moment, before he managed a smug smile, settling back into the seat. "No, because I needed to know that was where Dan keeps his wallet while he's _at_ work."

"And why do you need to know where Dan keeps his wallet while he's at work?"

This time it was Speed's time to roll the eyes. "I take back the detective comment. Because," he told explained, "That is where my credit cards are kept while he's working."

"And what?" Taylor asked him. "You expect me to break into his locker and give his cards to Eric?"

Speed shrugged. "Something like that."

* * *

"I don't like this," Taylor hissed at the ghost as she followed Speed's instructions to unlock the locker.

"Well hurry up and you can get out of here," Speed shrugged, leaning against the locker behind her.

"Yeah, so I can go and break into a _Hummer_," she hissed. The lock clicked open and Taylor hastily unhooked it, pulling the door open and rooting through the items. The wallet wasn't too hard to find, but it took a few attempts to pull the right card out. "I don't see why I can't just give this to Eric," she mumbled, locking the locker back up.

"Because you didn't have a warrant," Speed pointed out.

"I don't see how Eric is going to care," Taylor hissed as him as she hurried over to the door to the locker room and opened it a crack to see if the cost was clear.

"Because then you would have to explain to _another_ person that you can see ghosts," Speed explained patiently. "I've already checked the logs – I know which Hummer Cooper was using last. This is the perfect opportunity."

"How are you going to ensure that he gets in the right one?" Taylor asked him. "I saw them lined up," she told him. "There were half a dozen – math was never my strong point, but I know the odds aren't standing in our favor." She stood uptight and glared at the ghost. "And more to the point, why am I giving myself neck ache when you can walk through the door and tell me if it's safe to go?"

Speed rolled his eyes at her and walked through the door. Seconds later he returned. "It's clear. And I've already checked which Eric is assigned. Conveniently it's the right one."

Taylor eyed him suspiciously as she walked down the corridor, refusing to respond less anyone spot her. Somehow, she wasn't convinced of just how _convenient_ that had been.

Her pace quickened as she neared the door, and she nearly bumped into someone. If she had given him a second look, she might have noticed that he was the CSI from the crime scene who had been sketching her the day before, and she might have noticed that he was giving her a look as if to say, _I know you from somewhere_.

She followed Speed into the parking lot, waiting for his all clear to approach the Hummer he was leading her to. She crept up beside it while Speed worked his ghostly magic on the central locking. Quickly, she opened the door and slipped the credit card in.

* * *

"This is stupid," Taylor said into her phone. She had, under Speedle's instruction, waited for Eric and the CSI she had learnt was Calleigh, to get in the Hummer, and followed it to the busy Dade University campus. Feeling like she was a PI from a dodgy _film noir_, she had followed the two CSIs onto the campus, trying not to look like she was following them amongst the dozens of students. In an attempt to not look insane, she had pulled her phone out to justify the 'conversation' she was having with the ghost.

"You're the one on the phone," Speed shrugged at her, his eyes not leaving Eric.

Taylor shot him a withering glare. "Talking on the phone isn't stupid. Following those two around is. I can't tell from this distance what they're talking about. I'm going in closer." She slipped the phone into her pocket, ignored Speed's protests, and ambled as inconspicuously as she could, closer to the two she was following. She was right behind the person they were talking to when a gunshot echoed clearly in the air.

Taylor stared down at herself, barely registering the person in front of her falling to the ground, as she stared at the bright red that was now stained across her once white tank top, thinking to herself that the person screaming needed to shut up. It wasn't until Calleigh pushed her into the bushes that the screaming stopped and she realized it had been coming from her.

She took a shaky breath and looked around, spotting Speed straight away. "I didn't see that coming," she half grinned at him.

Speed wasn't paying attention. He was staring at Eric. "He's looking in the wrong place," he muttered, before disappearing and leaving a bewildered Taylor.

"Idiot!" Taylor cursed. "This is _not_ sticking to the plan." She gave her bloodied outfit another look over. "And I'm covered in blood."

"Are you okay?" Calleigh's soft Southern twang asked her.

Taylor nodded. "It's not my blood."

Calleigh gave her a reassuring smile before glancing over Taylor's shoulder. "Hey! Bayden!"

The person she called hurried over. "Calleigh?"

"I need you to take a witness statement, collect any trace, and see if she saw anything," Calleigh instructed him as though Taylor was too in shock to actually know what she was talking about.

Taylor sighed and turned to face Bayden.

A look of realization flashed through his green eyes. "You!"

Taylor stared blankly at him. "You?"

"You were at the crime scene yesterday."

Taylor shook her head. "Not got a clue what you're talking about," she mumbled.

Bayden dove into his bag and pulled a sketch pad from it, flicking through the pages until he came across the one that he wanted. He turned it around to show her.

Taylor stared in amazement at the pencil sketch in front of her. It was an exact likeness of her, sat under the tree. He had even caught her in a pensive moment, biting her lip. "You can't possibly have done that yesterday."

"I finished it at home." Bayden shook his head. "You were at the crime scene yesterday. You were at the crime lab earlier. And now you're here."

Taylor froze for half a second, before pulling the ID out of her pocket that Horatio had given her. "I'm with IAB," she told him.

Bayden's eyes narrowed. "Doing what?"

"In..vestig..ating," she told him, sounding uncertain.

"Forgive me while I just check," he told her, pulling out his cell. After a short conversation with someone who was clearly Horatio, Bayden hung up and frowned at her. "He says your IAB."

"Which is what I told you," Taylor pointed out. She watched Bayden's expression turned troubled. "What? Don't you trust Horatio?"

"I trust Horatio," he told her without even contemplating the answer. "The thing is, I also know you're not IAB."

"And what makes you say that?" Taylor asked him.

Bayden pointed at her feet. "If you're IAB, why are you wearing flip flops?"

Taylor's eyes fell to her feet and the bright orange nail polish that matched the orange trim on her tank top.

"You should tell him," Speed declared, suddenly appearing next to them and making Taylor jump slightly.

"He also said I should help you," Bayden added, looking uncomfortable.

"Now you really need to tell him," Speedle shrugged at her. "Come on, the poor kid has got to help IAB to arrest a colleague. He's gonna think he's a rat."

Taylor sucked in a deep breath, puffing up her cheeks, before slowly exhaling. "Look, you said you trust Horatio?"

Bayden nodded.

"Then trust me. Take what you need for evidence, and then let's get out of here," Taylor told him.

"Sooner, rather than later," Speed added.

Bayden eyes her warily before jumping into action. Taylor was impressed – Horatio had clearly been training him well, and he certainly had potential. She was photographed quickly, her fingernails scraped, and then he led her to his Hummer to offer her some protection whilst she shed her top, before lending her a spare t-shirt.

* * *

"I don't understand," Bayden told her.

They had left the crime scene, made a pit stop at the motel for Taylor to shower and change, before heading to a beach front bar. Despite the fact it was only lunchtime, the bar was busy, and Taylor was paying more attention to the crowds than to the young CSI in front of her.

Finally, her eyes fell on Dan Cooper. He was sat in the back, enjoying a delicious looking wrap and a pint of beer.

"I'm not IAB," Taylor admitted. "But you could say this is Internal Affairs related."

"Yeah, I still don't understand," Bayden told her, trying to work out where she was staring.

Taylor turned to face him. "When did you start?"

"A few years ago now," he said.

"A few years ago, a guy called Tim Speedle worked on your team," Taylor told him.

Speed rolled his eyes at her. "Yeah, we worked together."

Bayden smiled sadly. "Yeah, I remember him."

Taylor glanced over at the ghost sitting beside Bayden. "Well, you know he died."

"His gun misfired," Bayden agreed. "He didn't clean it properly."

Taylor shot Speed a glare, making a note to question that later. "Well, the thing is, his credit cards have become active."

"But he's dead," Bayden blurted out.

Taylor nodded. "And one of your other colleagues is using the card."

Bayden shook his head. "No, I can't believe that one of them would do something like that."

Taylor sighed and pointed over at Cooper.

"Cooper?" Bayden almost laughed. "Nah, he wouldn't."

"Speedle!" the barmaid shouted over the crowds. "Hank says you owe him a beer?" she yelled, nodding her head in the direction of a guy at the bar.

Cooper looked over and grinned. "Stick it on my card, Tess," he yelled back.

Bayden's mouth fell open. "No way," he said in disbelief.

"And now I need you to call Eric and get him over here."

Bayden shook his head venomously. "No, Eric does not need to see this."

Taylor shrugged. "Eric thinks Speed is alive."

"It would be easier if you told him I was here," Speed told her.

Taylor ignored him. "It's going to be easier coming from a friend, and hopefully, with my presence in the lab, it won't be a complete shock."

Bayden stared at her, his green eyes flickering several shades as his hand wiped his mouth. Finally, he silently rose to his feet and walked out of the bar.

Taylor started to follow him, but Speed shook his head. "Don't. He's going to make the call."

Taylor sat back down and reached for her Pepsi. She took a sip before setting the cup abruptly down on the ground. "You went back to him. _Again_," she hissed at him. She swiped at his arm, but it went straight through him. "You said-"

"I know what I said," Speed snapped. "But I can't stand there and watch my friend suffer."

"How do you know that?" Taylor snapped back. "After everything you've told me-"

Speedle stood up and walked through the table. "Follow me."

* * *

"What are we doing here?" Taylor sighed, looking around. Speed had directed her through Miami to a cemetery. Somehow, the fact it was full of palm trees made it feel eerie to Taylor, and she tried to rub the cold that flooded her, despite the heat of the day.

"Just wait," Speed told her. "You're a little impatient, you know that?"

"And you're actually a little annoying," Taylor retorted. "Do you ever actually smile?"

As she asked it, a genuine smile spread across Speed's lips. At her questioning look, Speed pointed behind her, over her shoulder.

Taylor turned, spotting Eric straight away. "There's something slightly morbid about this," she muttered.

Speed shrugged. "Technically, he's talking to me."

Taylor glanced at him. "And now I suddenly see how you and Aiden ended up together."

"Heads up," Speed grinned, nodding at an approaching figure.

"Ms. Turner," Horatio greeted her, removing his sunglasses.

Taylor smiled at him. "How is he?"

"Talking," Horatio told her. "But I think he's going to be okay."

"Good," Taylor sighed in relief. "Well, I'm not staying another night in that motel. I'm going back to my own bed and the fiancé I'm surprised at how much I'm missing."

Horatio put a hand on her shoulder. "You did good."

"The dead sometimes talk to me," Taylor shrugged. "Sometimes I listen."

"The dead sometimes talk to me," Horatio told her, slipping his sunglasses on. "But I _always_ listen."


	236. Homecoming Surprises

_Tvjunkie323 - that's a good point, actually - the evidence and the dead. I didn't think of that!_

_Bmangaka - lol, now you've got that idea in my head, yes. But it's going to be a challenge to my none existant math skills!_

_sparkyCSI - you know what? I don't actually like him! lol_

_Caitlin Tierney - I tried that drinking game. I was drunk before it was half over (although we were doing shots!) - don't forget everytime some calls him H, or everytime he calls Ryan, Mr Wolfe!_

_RK9 - hahaha - my memory is officially pants and I've clearly made that up. Never mind - but thank you for letting me use him._

_Laplandgurl - Ah, but if she did that, life would be too simple! lol, no, I think Mac needs to believe on his own. I just have to make that happen._

_Lacrossechick - I reread my entire story so I could write a plot, if you will, and it amazed me how much she's matured - I completely agree. Sam and Dean will be back, that I promise. I'm just working on my timeline as to when that will happen. But it will!_

_xSamiliciousx - I'm glad you think that because I nearly took it out, I wasn't sure about it!_

_DreamerChild - I love Speed, lol. Maybe he should put ideas into Taylor's head - that would be interesting to see what she would do with that information._

_Madison Bellows - Welcome back! Does that mean you're going to update us on the goings on over in Gus land? :D_

_Spoliers... are there spoilers? No, I don't think there are!_

_There are eternal thanks to my beta, sparky - especially after all the help with the wedding planning ;)_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 235**: **Homecoming Surprises**

Taylor paid the taxi driver and watched him drive off before looking up at her house. She had managed to get a flight a day earlier than intended, but it had still been late when it landed in New York. Now it was already gone ten and she was tired. She pulled her suitcase up the few steps and pushed the door open.

Her mouth dropped open at the sight in front of her: there was a path of rose petals leading up the stairs, candles on each (still uncarpeted) step. Suddenly feeling very happy to be home, she shut the door, toed off her shoes, and abandoned the suitcase. The rose path led across the landing and to her bedroom door.

The grin grew as she pushed the door open. "Well, I wasn't expecting – Grace?" Taylor froze, staring at the woman lying provocatively on her bed.

Grace jumped, sending extra rose petals fluttering to the ground. "Taylor? We weren't expecting you back so soon," Grace told her, making little effort to cover the lacy black underwear she was wearing.

"We?" Taylor repeated, her eyes flickering across the room for any sign of Flack.

"Flack and I," Grace nodded. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way."

Taylor stared incredulously at her. And then she started laughing. Hard.

"I didn't expect you to take our affair so well," Grace said, sitting upright.

Taylor laughed harder, falling back against the door. Finally, gasping for breath, she pulled her cell phone out and video called Flack.

"_Taylor?_" he greeted her. _"Not that I don't want to see your face, but... why are you laughing?_" he frowned at her.

"I'm sorry," Taylor gasped at him, trying desperately to control the giggles. "It's your girlfriend."

Flack looked confused. "_Are you referring to yourself in the third person again?_"

Taylor just started laughing again, instead resorting to turning the phone around and pointing it at the bed where Grace was beginning to shift uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry, Don. I know we didn't want her to find out this way," Grace told the face in the small screen.

"_Taylor, I can assure you there is nothing going on with me and Grace. I had no idea where she's got that idea from,_" Flack's voice rang across the room.

Taylor turned the phone back around. "Don, do I look like I think there's something going on here? I just had to show you this or you'd never have believed me."

"_Taylor, I'm coming straight home._"

Taylor shook her head. "Look, don't get me wrong, I have missed you, but if you need to finish what you're doing, you get that done. Grace was just leaving, weren't you?" she said, asking the detective who was hastily pulling some clothes on. "I'll see you soon. I love you."

"_I'll be home,"_ Flack told her. _"And Tay, I love you too."_

Taylor hung up and slipped the phone back into the pocket before her hands made their way to her hips. "You can leave the way you came," Taylor told Grace. "But you can hand over the key first," she informed her, holding her hand out. "And you'll do well not to try anything like this again," she said, surprised at how calm she was. "Because the next time I talk to you, you'll be dead."

With her arms cradling a few belongings, Grace gave Taylor a filthy look, slammed the key in Taylor's awaiting hand, and stormed out off the room.

Taylor waited until she heard the front door shut, before pulling her jacket off. "I knew she had a crush on him," she muttered, turning her attention to the bed. She didn't for one second thing that Grace and Flack had done _anything _on the bed, but there was no way she was sleeping in those sheets.

She stripped the bed, sending the remaining petals flying, and scooped the linens into her arms. Making sure all the candles were extinguished, she made her way down stairs, into the kitchen, then started to make her way into the basement.

She got a few steps from the ground when there was a shuffling noise. Her mind had been so occupied on what had just happened, she didn't notice that the light in the basement was on. "Grace," she sighed. "If you're going through Don's underwear-"

"Ew!" Riley exclaimed, stepping out of the shadows. "That's gross!"

Taylor let out a small sigh of relief before walking over to the washer, dumping the sheets in it. She was reaching for the washing powder when she turned back to Riley, who was watching her, fidgeting slightly. "What are you doing down here?"

"Chores," Riley told her.

Taylor glanced over at the dryer, its door hanging open and showing it was clearly empty. "Chores?" she repeated.

"Well, I came to see if anything needed doing."

Taylor frowned and turned her attention back to the washing, dumping the powder in and shutting the lid, turning it on. She turned back to the blonde teen. "Chores? On a Saturday night? I thought you were," she frowned. "Staying at a friend's – Chloe?"

Riley shrugged. "I came home early. I didn't think anyone was in, and I figured I would get some chores done."

Taylor's mind instantly provided a mental image of the rose petals and candles. There was no way Riley would have come through the door and thought that no one was in. Which meant she had been in the basement for a while. Taylor's eyes narrowed and she walked over to Riley, her eyes scanning the cavernous depths of the basement. "Are you doing drugs?" she demanded, sniffing the air.

"What?" Riley cried. "No! Hell no!"

Taylor rounded on her. "Riley, don't you forget where Don works, because I can have you at that precinct doing a drugs test faster than you can say _pee in a cup_."

"She's not doing drugs," Chase announced, stepping out from the shadows.

Taylor's hands flew to her head. "Oh god, it's worse. She's doing a boy!'

Riley looked mortified. "I am not _doing _Chase!"

"Then why are you two down here?" Taylor asked, her eyes finally picking out the makeshift bed in the far corner, half hidden by some boxes. "And why is there a _bed_ down here? Riley, you are not old enough to be having sex, and you damn well shouldn't be having sex under my roof!"

"We're not having sex!" Riley shouted back at her.

"Then what else are you two doing down here?" Taylor cried.

Chase stepped between the two of them. "Ms. Turner, we're not sleeping with each other – it's not like that with us. And we're not doing drugs. Riley was just letting me crash here a few days, that's all."

Taylor closed her eyes and silently counted to ten. "And why, pray tell, are you staying here? In the basement?" She opened her eyes to find both teenagers staring helplessly at each other. "Oh god," she sighed. "What did you two do?"

"Chase didn't do anything," Riley responded instantly.

Taylor looked at the young man and the sad smile he gave Riley which was clearly saying, _shut up!_ And then she noticed the black eye and the cut cheek. "Who have you been fighting?"

"He hasn't been fighting anyone," Riley told her.

Chase shot her a glare.

"Really?" Taylor said, her hands on her hips. "Because it looks like it."

"That's because you never liked him," Riley cried. "Chase didn't do anything – it was his uncle, alright?"

"Drop it, Riley," Chase growled at her.

"Come on, Chase. She's only gonna find out anyway.

"I said, drop it!" he snapped at her.

"Okay," Flack's voice rang through the basement. "I have no idea why everyone is in the basement, but we will not be talking like that _anywhere_ in this house."

Taylor glanced up at Flack as he joined her side, a bunch of flowers in his hands. "I think we need to move this conversation upstairs."

Flack nodded and indicated to the two teens they should move. They shared a look, before heading up the stairs. "What has just happened in the last hour in this house?"

Taylor shook her head. "I have no idea. But I do know I missed you."

Flack looked down at her. "You're not mad?"

"Nope," Taylor shrugged. "Although I do have every right to say, _I told you so_."

Flack gave her a nervous smile. "I would have been back sooner, but I stopped to get these," he said, offering the less than fresh bouquet. "They didn't have a great selection at this time of night."

Taylor took them off him and stood on her tiptoes, throwing her arms around his neck. "I'm not mad. Actually, I'm more concerned about those two," she said, nodding her head in the direction of the basement door. She kissed him, smiling as his arms tightened their hold on her.

"I love you," Flack told her.

"Love you too," Taylor smiled, before sighing. "Right, time for the parenting head to go on."

The two headed up the stairs and into the living room where Riley and Chase were perched on the far end of the couch, whispering furiously at each other.

"Alright kids, spill," Flack demanded, taking a place in front of the unlit fire.

Taylor, who was pulling the curtain closed, turned at lack of information the teenagers were providing. "Seriously? You want to withhold information from him? I've seen him in an interrogation and, well, you might as well make this easy on yourselves."

"When we went to Montana," Riley blurted out.

"Shut up!" Chase shouted at her, getting to his feet.

Flack was between them in a second. "You need to take a step back and calm down, son."

Chase looked up at him, looking genuinely surprised. "I wasn't going to hit her."

Flack nodded and directed him over to the chair. "Look, whatever it is, I guarantee you that I've heard worse. We want to help," he added, glancing over at Taylor who was nodding in agreement.

Chase looked at Riley and nodded.

Riley gave him a reassuring smile. "When we were in Montana for the wedding, Chase's uncle went and collected him from the home. He took him back to his motel." She looked over at Taylor. "He told Chase he had to work and when he got back from school he went mental and told him he wouldn't be going back – he was working there! And when Chase said no, he hit him! I couldn't let him stay there!"

"No," Flack told her. "But you should have said something." He looked at Chase. "You both should have said something."

"What now?" Chase asked, staring at the floor.

Taylor stared over at the teenagers, watching as Chase grabbed Riley's hand and clutched it tightly. "It's late. You can both go to bed. Here," she added, meeting Flack's eyes, who nodded at her. "Riley, in your own room. Chase, you can stay in Cordelia's."

"And tomorrow?"

"We'll let you know," Taylor sighed.

* * *

Taylor lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling as she waited for Flack to finish brushing his teeth. It didn't take long for him to return to the room. "I should do something about the rose petals," he sighed.

Taylor rolled onto her side to face him. "Chase can't go back to that," she told him.

Flack cocked his head at her, giving her a soft smile.

"What?" Taylor asked him suspiciously.

"You came home to find another woman in our bed and you're more concerned about a child that isn't yours?" he shrugged, getting into bed.

Taylor frowned. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Flack told her, leaning over and kissing her. "It just makes me love you all the more."

Taylor closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I want to foster Chase too," she said quickly. She peeked an eye open to see how Flack was reacting, and was surprised to see him nodding.

"I thought you would say that."

"You did?" Taylor asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Flack nodded. "And if it's possible, I think that's a good idea."

"If it's possible?" Taylor repeated.

Flack sighed, settling back into the pillows. "He has a blood relative who is willing to take him in. I don't know how we can compete with that?"

Taylor's mouth fell open. "But he hits him, and he keeps him from school."

"Tay, I'm just playing devil's advocate. Chase's attendance records aren't exactly exemplary, and he's been in a few scrapes. I'm going to do everything I can, but," he shrugged. "It might not happen."

"No," Taylor said firmly. "He is not going back there."

"We'll fix it," Flack sighed, hoping he could keep his promise.

* * *

_Big thank you's to all of you that are _still_ with me on this, and the same to all of you who add it to your favorites/alerts._

_Hope you're enjoying the summer and for those of you stuck with them, I hope your exams are going well!_


	237. And so it begins

_sparkyCSI - A key - you will find out soon enough! Yeah, it's taken a while, but I think she's finally there. Which means wedding bells, surely?_

_Trizzy - I am back! And the next three chapters have to be the easiest and most fun to write than anything I've done in a long time. Is the album any good - I can never make up my mind if I like them!_

_meadow567 - I'm not sure where the idea for fostering Chase came from, but I will roll with it. And I think Taylor is being lulled into a false sense of security without the ghosts._

_Bmangaka - Yeah, I keep thinking about it, and you're right on those views. It's going to take much planning, me thinks. A2's already? I thought you'd have the summer off before starting those!_

_xSamiliciousx - She slipped into Mom mode, didn't she! Yeah, I don't think Grace will be trying anything like that again in a hurry_

_DreamerChild88 - I'm hoping that it will be a problem resolved quickly. Actually, both issues - Grace did have guts! lol_

_CaitlinTierney - I have already been and read (I'm all alone in the office and taking advantage of it!) I hope the week got better?_

_Aphina - It's quite alright, because I know I've been just as bad! I actually liked that chapter too! She has grown._

_TVjunkie323 - That's a very good point - I wasn't sure who would pick up on it. Now I have to write teenagers! The cogs are turning with Chase as I type._

_Alana Xavier1 - And I'm glad to have you back, and I'm glad you're still enjoying!_

_Firstly - there are big thanks to my beta, sparky! Next, it's time for Snow Day! Enjoy..._

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 236: And so it begins…**

Flack awoke early the following morning, unsurprised to find the other side of the bed not only empty, but cold. He gave the air a sniff, surprised to smell coffee, and pulled back the covers shivering slightly in the coolness of the room. He had been working exceptionally hard over the last week to gather intel and get his task force together. The new lieutenant had been most impressed with his work and agreed that he could take them lead.

And for the last week, Taylor had been getting as much sleep as he had. She had stayed up until the small hours of the morning when he returned from work, and she was up long before he was. She'd admitted it was because she was worried about Chase and no matter what he told her, she couldn't help but feel responsible for him.

They had had to let him go back to his uncle, but Flack had been straight to Social Services who had promised to keep an eye on him. They had been around to the motel, and thus far, according to Riley, he was attending school every day and was given some time to work on his homework.

Flack quickly showered and dressed before heading downstairs. "What are you doing up so early?" He yawned, walking into the kitchen. He stopped when he realized that Taylor was cooking. "Uh, what are you doing?"

Taylor, who had had her back to him, turned around, flour and batter mix coating her face. "Cooking you breakfast," she told him before leading him over to the table and sitting him down at the table, which she had carefully decorated. "Here," she handed over the morning's paper.

"Taylor, I know I promised that I wouldn't bring this up anymore, but do you know how important today is?" he asked her as she returned her attention back to the stove.

Taylor merely wafted an arm in his general direction.

Flack looked around at the kitchen. It looked like the crime lab had after Danny and Adam had had a flour fight once. "What I mean is, maybe you should cook breakfast for me another time. When I don't have to be in."

Silently, Taylor returned to him, placing an enormous stack of pancakes in front of him. She sat down opposite him, biting her lip.

Flack took one more look at the bomb sight, a quick glance at Taylor's hopeful face, and sighed, taking the smallest portion of pancake with his fork, and gingerly placed in his mouth. As he started chewing, he realized that it actually didn't taste all that bad. In fact… "Taylor, these are actually really good," he told her between enormous mouthfuls.

Taylor sat back and grinned. "I knew how important today was for you, and I wanted you to go out with a full stomach."

"When the hell did you learn to cook?" He frowned, "I didn't mean it like that, but these are good."

Taylor just grinned, practically prancing back to the side to begin cleaning.

Flack stuck the last mouthful in his mouth and bounded after her. "Hey, you're not going anywhere without telling me when you learned to cook pancakes."

With her back to him, Taylor just shrugged.

"Oh no you don't," Flack cried, leaping at her.

Taylor turned at the last moment and threw a gloopy handful of batter mix she had been concealing in her hand. It hit Flack's startled face and dripped onto his clean shirt. She stumbled back into the fridge as she began laughing.

Flack narrowed his eyes as his hands went for the remaining mix.

"Don! Don't you dare!" Taylor shrieked as she bolted out of the kitchen, running straight into a very startled looking Riley.

Riley looked between the two of them and groaned. "Ew, what are you two doing?"

"Mushy romantic stuff," Flack told her, wrapping his arm around Taylor and whirling her around amidst her squeals. He set her down and wiped his mix covered hand down the side of her face.

Riley pulled a face at them, walking past them into the kitchen where she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Since when do you drink coffee?" Taylor asked her.

Riley shrugged. "Since you wake me up with food fights."

"Save me some," Sean yawned, wandering into the kitchen, clad only in a pair of pyjama bottoms. He gave Taylor and Flack an unimpressed look as he took the mug Riley was offering him. "Remind me who the kid is in this house?"

"Hey," Riley objected.

"Well," Taylor said, ignoring them. "Now that you're both up, you can have some pancakes."

Sean and Riley both eyed the stack suspiciously. "I've got more of my life left to live," Riley shrugged at him.

Flack reached over, stuck more on his plate and poured on some syrup. "Fine. I'll eat them," he told them, shoveling them into his mouth.

* * *

After dropping Riley off at school, and making sure to see Chase, Taylor headed back onto the island to visit Stella.

"How's he sleeping?" she asked as Stella let her into the apartment.

Stella shot her a withering glare. "He sleeps when I'm awake, and he's awake when I'm asleep," she told her, before erupting into a large yawn.

Taylor followed her to the living room where the Moses basket had taken a prominent position. "I can come back at another time if you want to try and get some sleep."

Stella shook her head. "Its fine, but you might have to make it a short visit."

"That's not a problem," Taylor told her, peering into the basket at the two week old baby boy. "Jeeze, Stell! He's gotten huge since the last time I saw him! Haven't you Lee?"

Stella looked at her, and unimpressed look on her face. "Taylor, his name is Liam. Not Lee. It's short enough that you don't need to shorten it anymore." She glanced down at the sleeping form and smiled. "But yes, the nurse came by and he's putting a good amount of weight on him."

"He looks like you," Taylor muttered, still staring, transfixed, at the baby.

Stella shook her head. "You should see him with Keanu – he's a spitting image."

"Is he helping out much?" Taylor asked, finally looking at the new mother.

"As much as I'm letting him," Stella shrugged. "He still wants to be a part of his life. I just don't know how much I want him in my life. Liam is all I can focus on at the moment."

"You're not missing work?"

"Nope," Stella told her. "I've not even thought about it." She frowned. "Actually, that's a lie. I came across some files the other day. They're not majorly important, but they could do with going back to the lab. I just don't want to take Liam in there yet – all the chemicals and things."

"Do you want me to take them?" Taylor offered. "I need to nip into the precinct anyway. Don has a huge drug bust going down this morning," she glanced at the clock. "About now, actually."

"Is that why you look like you've had as much sleep as I have?" Stella asked her, handing her the files she had been referring to.

Taylor shook her head and sighed, sinking into Stella's couch. "It's Chase."

"Chase?" Stella frowned thoughtfully. "Riley's friend?"

Taylor nodded. "His uncle collected him from the orphanage and took him home. Only he's hit him – more than once, from what Riley's implied, but Chase refuses to admit it. I want to foster him."

"I take it Social Services are on the case?"

"Yeah, though fat lot of good that's doing," Taylor muttered darkly. "Chase refused to say anything to them and his uncle denied everything. Poor kid shouldn't be in that position."

"No, he shouldn't," Stella agreed.

"I don't know if it's because he sees the good in him, or if he's scared of the consequences," Taylor sighed.

"I'd say he was scared," Stella told her.

"I just want to do _something_," Taylor told her. "But I promised Don I wouldn't interfere."

Stella blinked. "And you're listening?"

Taylor shrugged. "It's not my life on the line. It's a kid's. I've got to."

"That's rather grown up of you," Stella said, slightly surprised.

"I surprise myself sometimes," Taylor sighed. "In other news, I returned from Miami to find Flack's partner in my bed."

Stella's mouth fell open. "What?"

"I could tell she had a thing for him, but I didn't realize it was that bad," Taylor told her.

"What did you do?"

Taylor grinned. "What any other insane person would have done. Video called Don and showed him. He was mortified. He's been buying me flowers every day since."

"I think that's the least he should be doing," Stella frowned.

"Are you kidding?" Taylor smiled. "I thought it was hilarious. Poor woman is clearly desperate, but she does have good taste."

Stella's frown deepened. "It sounds like the _poor woman_ has some underlying issue. Has he said something?"

Taylor shrugged. "Not a clue. He said he was going to say something to her."

"Not to her, to his Lieutenant," Stella told her. "He needs to say something." She gave Taylor a sharp look. "And you need to make sure he says something, before this comes back and bites him on the a-s-s."

Taylor cocked her head. "You are aware that Liam is only two weeks old, aren't you?"

"Very aware, thank you," Stella said. "But I'm getting into good habits with him now."

"Speaking of good habits," Taylor said, rising to her feet. "I read somewhere that you should sleep when the baby sleeps. Get a nap."

Stella yawned. "There may be something in that."

* * *

The crime lab was unusually busy as Taylor stepped off the elevator – her denim shorts, turquoise halter neck and flip flops instantly looking out of place. She gave the dozens of bodies a quick glance and pulled out the ID from her pocket, attaching it to the pocket of her shorts.

"Taylor?" Mac addressed her as he approached the elevator. "What are you doing here?"

Taylor pulled the files Stella had given her from her bag. "Stella had these. I said I would return them."

Mac stuck his hand in the elevator behind her, stopping it from closing. "Will you leave it on my desk for me? I have to go downstairs."

"No problem," Taylor replied.

"Flack did well today," Mac told her. "There was a lot of cocaine seized."

Taylor smiled proudly. "Good. He's been working hard on that."

Mac nodded. "Oh, if you see Sheldon on your way to the office, will you let him know the cocaine is coming up – I'm going to take care of the chain of custody, but we're going to need him to sample twenty percent of – randomly."

"No problem," Taylor repeated.

"I've got Lindsay coming in soon. She's going to handle the evidence at the warehouse – Sheldon will have to take charge of the evidence as it comes back in because I'm going to have Adam meet her there."

"I've got that," Taylor told him as the elevator doors slid closed.

She slipped the files under her arms and walked down the corridors, peering in at the various labs – everyone looked busy. She spotted the gun Hawkes was examining before she realized it was Hawkes with his hands on it.

"Jesus Christ, that's big!" she exclaimed.

"I've been told," Hawkes grinned at her.

Taylor laughed and walked over. It really was big – it looked more like a machine gun than anything else.

"Are you here to see me, or the gun?" Hawkes asked her.

Taylor straightened, returning her attention to the CSI. "Sorry, Sheldon. How you doing?"

"Not too bad. Yourself?"

Taylor nodded. "I'm good. Before I forget, Mac caught me on the way in. He said to let you know that the cocaine was on the way up and he was handling chain of custody. Oh, and the DA wants you to test twenty percent of the seizure – random sampling. Mac is assigning Lindsay to the warehouse to help Adam and they're going to send over any evidence they find." She stepped back and cocked her head at him. "You look tired. I bet you're glad that Danny and Lindsay are back?"

"You have no idea," Hawkes laughed. "I've been pulling doubles all week. A wedding and maternity leave – someone had to pick up the slack."

"But think of the money," Taylor told him.

"Have you heard from them?"

Taylor shook her head. "It was radio silence as soon as the jetted off on their honeymoon."

"I could quite happily go for two weeks in Mexico," Hawkes sighed.

Taylor laughed at him. "I'm sure you'll get some time off after this." Her eyes fell back on the gun. "I'm sorry, but that's a huge ass gun!"

"Seized this morning, courtesy of your fiancé. Recently been fired," he added.

Taylor peered at it, noting the slightly white coating on it. "Cool. You got any prints off it?"

Hawkes stared at her. "You know you're sounding like a CSI sometimes, right?"

Taylor shared. "Well I don't have anything better to do, and I clearly spend too much time in here."

"You need a job," Hawkes told her. "And to answer your question, I've lifted two prints and there are no hits in AFIS."

"I was listening to the radio on the way over here – it's all over the news," Taylor said, biting her lip thoughtfully. "The dead guy is definitely Wilder than?"

Hawkes nodded. "Looks like."

"You don't think that taking him out is a bit bold?"

Hawkes looked at her. "You're implying that one of the Irish Mob took out their own leader?"

Taylor shrugged. "I have done hours and hours of research on the New York gangs, and gangs in general. They're all criminals, aren't they? I mean, it only takes one to get greedy, and you could easily convince the others that you'd make a better boss."

"Interesting theory," Hawkes mused. "And by that you're saying find the new boss and find his killer."

"Yes?" Taylor replied uncertainly.

"You might be on to something," Hawkes told her.

Taylor smiled. "Look, I'm going to drop this off in Mac's office and head next door to see Don."

Hawkes' expression changed to a troubled on. "You want to wait for me in the break room before you do? I think there's something I should tell you."

The smile was replaced with a frown. "What's up?"

Hawkes shook his head. "It's nothing that can't wait – don't worry. I could do with a coffee break anyway."

* * *

"Hold up, Montana," Danny called.

Lindsay stopped unlocking the door and glanced back at Danny who was dragging the suitcase down the hallway. "What's the matter?" Danny put the suitcase to one side before turning to Lindsay. Before she knew what he was doing, he was sweeping her up in his arms. "Danny?" she squealed.

"Look, Mrs. Messer, I'm carrying my wife over the threshold, so shuddup and enjoy it."

"Be careful of your sunburn," she warned him, just as he scraped his back against the door frame.

Danny let out a yelp of pain and hurriedly put her down. "That didn't go according to plan," he winced.

Lindsay bit back a smile. "Well, if you'd have put sunscreen on instead of insisting that it was cloudy-"

"Yeah, yeah," Danny cut her off. "I wouldn't be standing here sun burned," Danny muttered. "Though, for the record, how was I supposed to know you could burn through the sun?"

"You should listen to your wife," Lindsay grinned. "I tell you what, let me find that aloe vera cooling gel from the bag and I'll rub some on your back."

"I like the sound of that," Danny grinned.

"By all rights, I should let you suffer," Lindsay told him, dragging the suitcase in and unzipping it. She quickly located the bottle and turned to her husband. "Teach you a lesson."

"Trust me, that lesson has been well and truly learned," Danny promised her.

"I can't believe how jet lagged I feel considering there's very little time difference." Lindsay glanced at her watch. "I have to be at work soon."

"I tell you what," Danny said, pulling off his shirt. "You lather me up and I'll swap shifts with you – that way you can catch a couple of hours sleep first."

Lindsay shook her head. "You said you didn't get a wink of sleep on the plane."

Danny turned his back to her and pointed at it over his shoulder. "Have you seen the color of this? I couldn't get comfortable. And I can promise you that I'm not going to sleep on that any time soon."

Lindsay walked over and squeezed the cool gel on his back, making him jump. "Well, at least it gives me an excuse to rub my hands over my husband's body."

Danny spun around, catching her in his arms as the motion caught her off guard. "You don't need an excuse," he told her before his lips captured hers.

* * *

_A big thanks to all the reviews, alert add and favorite adds! And in other news, I'm heading back to the Bayou State for a vay-kay (three years overdue!). Anyways, the first week I will be helping my best friend with her wedding, so I don't know if I'll be able to upate. It might not be until I get back in the UK, but if I have a chance, I will post!_

_Oh, no, wait! I know what I was going to say... So, a couple of weeks ago, I re-read the story (it took me ages :D) and I decided to write a summary of the plot. I was debating putting it in as a chapter and decided against it. Instead, I created a website. A bit geeky, I know - but it's a bit of fun. It still needs work and I will be adding to it when I can, but if you want to check it out, the link is at the bottom of my profile page._


	238. Under Fire

_Lassie - Thank you for that! You really put a smile on my face. I think Taylor will be about for a while (if only because it takes me so long to update!)_

_Aphina - D! Did I have Tinie Tempah on that list of tunes? I meant to ask, but avoided facebook instead!_

_Thoren - Oh, I hadn't thought about that... Now I feel really mean!_

_ninjagurl512 - ") Thank you, and I'm sorry to keep you waiting!_

_DreamerChild88 - First pancakes, next a Baked Alaska... or not...! Sleeping when they sleep sounds like a very good idea_

_sparkyCSI - well I was excited, but you know the rest. It's my drug problem... It hasn't stopped raining here. I had to mow my lawn this morning because the grass was honestly up to my ankles. I timed it right - it rained when I finished!_

_meadow567 - Thank you!_

_Bmangaka - Numb3rs - I have had to watch the first two seasons again (because they're the only ones I own) but I think something is happening in that head of mine... I hope you had fun on your uni visits - did either of them fit with you?_

_BlueEyedGunSlinger - Thanks for the tip on the profile. I hope I've fixed it now? I was in New Orleans and wow, it was hot! And I re-read the last chapter and I can't for the life of me remember what Hawkes was going to say. That is going to bug me until I remember, grrr_

_CaitlinTierney - Did you fix where you were stuck? I liked both of your ideas btw and was torn between the two. If you have the time, I would say definately do both!_

_Trizzy - Oh heck, I hope i haven't kept you bouncing all this time? Your legs will be tired "P I spent the last month listening to 80s music... and then, embarrased myself when in the car with another DJ and didn't recognise the song playing (that had been at number one for two or three weeks - darn you, Neyo!)_

_Madison Bellows - Melt? I decided to go wandering around the French Quarter in a 111 degree heat index (all because I wanted to see a psychic) and ended up with sun stroke - my own fault. I didn't smell the oil while there, but I did spend a day in Grant Isle shovelling sand (and being attacked by a gull). I hope you had fun in St. Croix?_

_TVjunkie323 - Hey C! The cooking lessons are top secret but pancakes are about the only thing she can manage. Grace won't be kidnapping anyone, or trying to kill them (at least, at this moment in time, I don't have that planned). And yeah, I really can't remember what he was going to tell her... but he does need time off. I'll have to be nice to him!_

_xSamiliciousx - I loved that part too. I feel like I really don't write enough fluffy stuff. It all seems to be action or angst. So I'm trying to be better to them and throw a bit in!_

_Spoilers for Snow Day still_

_And because I don't think I make it clear just how much I appreciate her - enormous thanks to my beta sparkyCSI!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 237: Under Fire**

Taylor had barely settled down in the break room before a loud, blaring alarm sounded. For a brief moment, she was completely confused – the noise sounding unfamiliar in the lab. Then it registered that it was a fire alarm. She stuck her head out of the door. Seeing the employees making their way to the elevator, she frowned. Who in their right mind got in an elevator if an alarm was going off? They were nearly forty storeys in the air.

Instead, Taylor turned and headed in the opposite direction to the unused stairs. Halfway there, she stopped, spotting Mac staring at a Bunsen burner. "Mac? What's going on? Where's the fire?"

"Exactly," Mac answered pointing at the Bunsen burner. "And it's not the fire alarm that's going off."

Taylor frowned, her nose wrinkling as she realised she could smell the additive to give natural gas a scent. "I smell gas. Shouldn't that be, well, exploding the lab about now?"

Mac glanced around the lab. "Maybe this isn't a gas leak." He made his way to a drawer and pulled out a rather large syringe.

"Mac?" Taylor stared warily at him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to take an air sample and run it through the GCMS to see what we're dealing with here," he explained. He took the sample to the machine and programmed it in. It didn't take long for the computer to beep a result at them.

Taylor stared at the graph. "Is that what we should be seeing?"

Mac shook his head. "No. If what we smell is natural gas, there should be more than one peak."

"So what is it?" Taylor asked, staring Mac.

"Metrcaptoethanol," Mac replied.

Taylor frowned, racking her brains. "Which is the stuff they add to natural gas to give it a smell. Because natural gas is actually odourless, right?"

Mac nodded. "No, but it has the same smell. It's also used in a bunch of stuff. Nothing we do here."

"And is it something the lab just happens to stock?" Taylor asked hopefully, suddenly getting a bad feeling in her stomach.

"No."

"So why is it in the lab?" Taylor asked slowly.

"I don't know," Mac admitted.

Taylor looked at him and then pulled out her iPhone, pulling up Don's details. "I can't get through to Don," she muttered, listening to the beeping on her phone. She pulled the phone away from her ear and dialled 911. "Hell, I can't get through to anyone. I've got no signal," she told Mac, listening to the beeping again.

Mac was looking at his phone. "I've haven't got any either."

With a frown, Taylor marched over to the phone in the lab and picked it up. She hammered on the buttons before looking over at Mac. "Mac, you know your landlines are dead too, right?"

With a worried expression, Mac hurried over to the computer, Taylor right behind him, and opened up the internet browser. "The internet's not working."

Taylor fought to keep the bubble of panic from rising. "Is that normal for a gas leak evacuation – to shut down communication?"

"All lines of communication to go down?" Mac repeated. "No."

The crime lab suddenly descended into silence as the alarms shut off. Taylor looked around. "Tell me that is a good sign. Because I don't really have a very good feeling about this." She stared at Mac who was staring back at her, his expression stoic. "Tell me what you're thinking. Please."

Mac nodded. "I think someone's faking a gas leak to force an evacuation."

Taylor's eyes widened. "On the same day the NYPD has just successfully executed its most successful drug bust?"

"Right," Mac agreed grimly. "Let's split up and see if we can locate the source of the smell. That way we might get some answers."

Taylor stared blankly at him. "Mac, how the hell do I do that?"

"Follow your nose. Look for anything that looks out of place."

Taylor shook her head. "It's a lab, Mac. How am I supposed to know that?"

Mac looked at her, seeing the panic in her face, and walked over to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Lord knows you've been watching the CSIs long enough. Follow your instincts."

Taylor looked up into his pale blue eyes and slowly nodded. "Okay." She took a deep breath. "Okay." She turned and walked out of the lab in the opposite direction to Mac

The lab was eerie when empty and Taylor didn't like it, especially not after it being so busy and bustling only an hour ago. She glanced into each of the labs, her eyes analyzing everything, wondering if any of it looked like it didn't belong there. Only, everything looked fine. She carried on her way, almost making it full circle back to the elevators.

As they came into her line of sight, the doors pinged open and several men with breathing apparatus walked out. Taylor let out a sigh of relief and was about to go bounding over when someone grabbed her from behind, a hand clamping down over her mouth, pulling her into a lab and to the ground.

There was a moment when the panic set in and she was about to attack the person who had her, but Mac quickly hissed in her ear. "Taylor, it's me."

He let her go and Taylor whirled around, trying to get her beating heart under control. "What the _hell_ are you doing?" she whispered furiously at him.

Mac nodded his head in the direction of the men. "I've been following these guys. They're not from the gas company. They belong to the gang that Flack took down this morning. At least one of them was armed with a 9mm."

"The gang?" Taylor repeated. "The _Irish Mob_?"

"Yes," Mac confirmed. "The trace off their shoes matches the trace I found in that warehouse in Brooklyn. You were right. They're here for the coke."

Taylor stared at him in disbelief. Suddenly, something sprang to mind. "I did what you asked, Mac. I told Hawkes to put the cocaine in the vault and lock it. They couldn't get into it, could they?"

Mac frowned. "Only if they torched it. And that would take hours."

Taylor peered over the top of the table. "Mac, what the hell are they doing with that very large gun?"

Mac looked at where she was staring. "That's how they're gonna get their drugs back; that gun was built to penetrate armour. It can slice through that vault door like a knife through butter."

"Surely they'll hear that downstairs?" Taylor asked in amazement.

"With how high up we are?" Mac turned back to her. "I doubt it."

"Well what are we going to do?"

Mac shrugged. "We're going to have to stop them ourselves."

Taylor just continued to stare at him.

* * *

Next door, Flack was in an empty room staring out at the crowds of people in the street, feeling like he should be out there, but knowing there was an even bigger mountain of paperwork that needed completing than _before _the operation.

With a sigh, he stretched his back and returned his attention to the computer in front of him. It was so noisy at his desk, and Grace was giving him weird looks, that he had opted for the only empty room in the building – the one with the dinosaur computer, the uncomfortable, squeaky chair, and the weird smell.

"That went down quite well, didn't it?" Louie asked, appearing out of nowhere.

Flack let out a yelp. "Louie! How many times have I asked you not to do that?"

Louie wafted his arms impatiently. "Not merely as many times as you probably will do in the future."

Flack eyed him suspiciously. "You know, I don't like the sound of that," as his phone rang. He picked it up, frowning at the number he didn't recognize. "Flack." His face lost color as he listened to the voice on the other end of the phone.

He hung up and looked at Louie.

"What?" Louie asked him. "Taylor announce she was pregnant or something?"

Flack shook his head. "It's Danny."

Louie blinked. Without waiting for an explanation, he disappeared.

* * *

Taylor was chewing nervously on her fingernails when something that was filtering over the radios the men had caught her attention. _…we have a hostage situation involving police officers…_ It wasn't the words that alarmed her, as much as the expression on Mac's face. "What?" she whispered cautiously, not certain she wanted to hear the answer.

"That's the same location of the bust this morning," Mac explained. "Danny and Adam are still there."

Taylor's breath caught in her throat. "I thought Lindsay was going?"

Mac shook his head. "They swapped shifts."

Taylor could feel the panic bubbling up inside her again. "We've gotta get out of here, Mac."

"It's not going to be that simple. These guys aren't cowboys, Taylor," he explained, noting her confusion. "They've pulled this whole thing together in a matter of hours and that means they're well connected and methodical. I'm sure they've got people on the exits."

Taylor took a deep breath, her eyes back on the intruders. "At least tell me you have your gun on you?"

Mac sighed and shook his head. "It's in my desk."

Taylor felt the strength drain from her and she fell to her knees. "Great. So we're stuck here, with no weapons, with guys with big ass guns? So what's the plan?" She stared at Mac, the patience slowly ebbing away. "Please tell me you have a plan?"

Mac shook his head. "I have no idea. The one thing I do know is that we have a home field advantage."

Taylor stared blankly at him. "What are you on about? I don't work here!"

Mac looked calmly at her. "Taylor, you've spent more hours here than some of my employees, much to my annoyance. But the fact is, you probably know your way around this lab blindfolded. And more importantly, I'm not letting anyone leave my lab with evidence. This is the part where you step up, Taylor. You step up and you take charge and you show me what you're made of."

Taylor shut her eyes and took a very deep breath. She exhaled slowly, opening her eyes and nodded. "Okay."

Mac turned his attention back to the intruders, while Taylor's attention was caught by the computer flashing at her. Keeping low, she scurried over to it. As she read the screen a bolt of hope appeared. "Mac!" she hissed. "I think Hawkes is still in the building. Does this mean the internet's back?"

Mac joined her side. "No. The internet's still down but our internal messaging system is still working."

Mac quickly grabbed the keyboard. IT'S MAC – I'M WITH TAYLOR. WHERE ARE YOU?

The reply pinged on the screen. Taylor ignored it, keeping her eyes on the men. One of whom was looking suspiciously in their direction. Taylor tugged at Mac's sleeve. "Mac, I think we need to go!'

Mac took one look in the direction of the elevators and nodded, closing the message window. He pointed in the direction of the exit furthest from the elevators and the two hurried out, keeping low.

In the corridor they burst into a run, Mac leading them through the warren-like corridors, to the far side of the building. He hurried over to a spot on the wall and pulled it open, revealing a fuse box.

"The power?" Taylor asked him as the lab descended into darkness.

"You know this lab, Taylor. Use it to your advantage." His eyes widened as he spotted something behind her, pushing her to the side. "RUN!" he bellowed.

Taylor did exactly as he said, taking off in the opposite direction as the glass started exploding around her. She covered her head, praying a bullet wouldn't hit her as she charged down the corridors. She ducked into the break room, looking desperately around. Remembering something she had seen in a film once, she stood on the top, pushing a ceiling tile up and leaving a crack. And then she dropped to the floor, opened up one of the cupboards and squeezed in, holding her breath.

* * *

Flack squealed to a halt outside the warehouse, leaping out of the car, and started bellowing orders.

Louie appeared beside him looking angry. "Danny's in there," he told him. "He looks like crap. You have _got_ to get him outta there."

"Can't you do anything?" Flack asked him.

Louie shook his head helplessly, sending ghostly brain matter flying. "I can't," he told him. "I don't have that ability anymore."

Flack nodded. "I'm getting Danny out. Alive."

"You better," Louie told him.

* * *

_Sorry about my infamous disappearing act. Life isn't good and I feel no urge to be near a computer. Oh well. I will be unemployed at the end of the week again. Temping SUCKS. Maybe I will have time to write(!)_

_In other news, I again thank everyone for reading, reviewing and all the alert / favourite adds! ")_


	239. Taking back the lab

_... Yeah, I have become pants at updating again. I'm sure none of you are suprised by this anymore (SSDD), but apologies all the same! I do feel a tad guilty - I am updating this at three in the morning!_

_Trizzy - Hmmm, *ponders thoughtfully* it would be quite bothersome, wouldn't it! There are some minor changes to the outcome - I have to keep y'all on your toes after all_

_solonotes - Hello, welcome and thank you! I know looking at the chapter count can be quite daunting, so thank you for sticking her out :) Which other journalist? (I'm curious now!)_

_ninjagurl512 - I agree! I have had some of this written since, well, it aired pretty much, so it has taken a lot of patience to get to it. And thank you - you're right - it will do!_

_xxCrimexObsessedxPrincessxx - Another, hello, welcome and thank you to you too! Actually, Cory belongs to my beta, sparkyCSI, but Aphina and I both borrow her, so she is the same person! (If you want another lot of good stories to sink your teeth into, start off with 'A Time to Heal')_

_DreamerChild88 - lol, it is very much true! But I am glad you liked! :)_

_sparkyCSI - You could live on the North Pole? You nutter! Yes, I am looking forward to playing with him. I've been researching ghosts and the supernatural and there's some lore that fits perfectly with it too!_

_TVjunkie323 - Yup yup, there will be mischief abound with Louie and Flack. And I did remember, so the next time Taylor sees Hawkes, she will ask him!_

_Bmangaka - That sounds like an ace course! And Geordie land should be fun too. Although, I suspect it will be cold. Brrr! :P_

_BlueEyedGunSlinger - Very maturely - I'm quite proud of her! lol. Yay, I'm glad you like the website - there have been a few hours poured into it, but I think it's going to need updating again shortly._

_Rose01 - I can assure you that those handsome devils will be back. In terms of the story line, it won't be too far away either, but I am a terrible updater, so it might be a while before it actually happens, I'm afraid._

_xSamiliciousx - I had a good think about it, and how I wanted Taylor to fit in with the episode - I nearly had her in the van with Danny, but I figured there could be more fun had in the lab, plus it would be a chance to show how she has grown. Bless, I feel like a proud mother, lol._

_meadow567 - I read it back, and you're right. I think I may have gotten a little too excited in the writing. However, I will use the excuse of... no, you've got me. I'm just too excitable. No, wait - and excuse - something to do with adreneline and time moving faster... yeah, I'll just go with, you're right. :s_

_Of course, my ever continuing thanks goes to my wonderful beta, sparkyCSI. And if you've been living in a box, living in a cardboard box... (Cheryl, step away from the cheesy 80s songs...), we still have spoilers for Snow Day._

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 238: Taking Back The Lab**

Taylor heard the man come into the room, and she nearly gave her hiding place away when he opened fire. But the bullets didn't make it anywhere near her. She had no idea how many rounds he fired, but he finally stopped, the sound of bullets still clinking on the ground as she heard him walk out.

Slowly, she counted to ten before cautiously pushing the cupboard door open. Seeing the coast was clear, she climbed out and stared in amazement through the combination of plaster and Styrofoam that was softly raining down. The guy had fallen for her ruse – clearly thinking she was hiding in the ceiling.

Part of her wanted to climb back in the cupboard and wait. But when the lab started vibrating with the steady rhythmic booms, the thought was replaced with the desire to prove Mac right. She took a deep breath and stepped back into the lab. She made her way along the corridor, pausing in the doorway to one of the labs, wondering if there was anything she could use as a weapon.

Unfortunately, the actual weapons were in the same room as the giant gun, locked away. And Mac's office, where his gun was apparently located, was just around the corner – far too risky to attempt to get it. She spotted a microscope on the side, and whilst it wasn't going to provide her with an option for a fair fight with someone with a gun, she grabbed it from the side, taking a small amount of comfort from the weight of it.

As she continued down the corridor, she was suddenly glad for taking it. In front of her, with a gun pressed to the back of his head, was Mac. Quietly, Taylor hurried over and brought the microscope crashing down on the head of Mac's assailant.

The man's gun fell out of his hands as he crumpled to the floor. Mac, without even looking at who his saviour was, grabbed the gun and pointed it at him. "Okay, put your hands where I can see them. Do it!" he ordered. "What's your name? How many are in your crew? Who's running this operation?"

The man stared up at him defiantly.

"I don't think he wants to answer you, Mac," Taylor frowned.

Mac smiled. "That's alright. We'll let your dead friend give us the answer." He half turned to Taylor, his eyes never leaving the perp. "Take this."

Taylor stared at the gun. Only an hour ago she would have looked at him and told him she couldn't use it. Instead, she briefly met his gaze – long enough to give him a resolute nod – and took the gun from him.

"You know how to use that?" the man asked her, his voice thick with an Irish accent.

Taylor loaded the chamber, never taking her eyes off his. "Better than I know how to use a microscope," she told him. "And look how well that one turned out for you."

* * *

Flack was staring at a screen showing the heat signatures inside the building, trying to formulate a plan. Louie was turning out to be little help, instead pacing back and forth.

"Flack!"

He looked up to see Lindsay hurrying towards him. "Lindsay? You shouldn't be here."

"And if that was Taylor in there?"

Flack sighed and nodded. "We've just initiated contact but there's still no word on the condition of the hostages."

"But you spoke to Danny, right?" Lindsay asked him. "He was the one that called you."

Flack nodded, glancing over at Louie. "He didn't sound good, Linds. But I _know_ he's still alive."

Lindsay nodded.

Flack frowned, trying to come up with something comforting to say. Instead, he changed the subject. "I would have thought Mac would be here by now."

"I've just come from the lab," she told him. Everyone has been evacuated from the building because of a gas leak. It's a mess there. He's probably stuck trying to control the chaos."

"A gas leak?" he repeated.

"_Nice toy," _an Irish tainted accent burst out of Flack's radio.

"You like?" Flack asked, his attention suddenly fixed on his radio. "Come outside and I'll show you how to use it."

"_Oh, you're funny. I like funny people... these guys in here – they're not so funny."_

Flack ignored the expression on Lindsay's face. "Well, how about we swap. Me for them. I mean, it's only fair considering it was me who planned the raid this morning and put you all out of business."

"_Maybe I'll think about it."_

"Yeah, and if it's not too much of a strain, why don't you tell me what _you_ want? Let me have something to think about?" he retorted.

"_How do you know that I want something?"_

Flack rolled his eyes. "You have hostages. You clearly want something. A pony perhaps?"

A dry laugh echoed through the radio. "_You really are funny. Alright how about we start with my guys – the ones you arrested this morning?"_

"Let me see what I can do," Flack told him, clipping the radio back to his vest.

"We both know that's not going to happen," Lindsay told him. "And I think he knows it too."

Flack gave her a reassuring smile. "I told you Linds, I'm getting Danny out of there."

* * *

Taylor grabbed a chair and rolled it to the perp. "Sit," she commanded, the gun never leaving him. The man reluctantly did as she said. She grabbed a roll of gaffer tape and tossed it to him. "Now, you start tying those legs of yours to that chair."

Out of the corner of her eye, Mac was darting around the room, gathering various items. She ignored him, taking the tape back of the man and started pulling a strip. Rather viciously, she slammed her hand, and the tape, against his chest. "Spin," she ordered.

He glared up at her.

"Or, you know, I could just shoot you."

With a filthy look, he threw his weight against the chair, starting it spinning. With his legs bound he wasn't making much progress, so Taylor stepped forward and grabbed the back of the chair pushing it around, the tape quickly bound him in place. She ripped the end and stuck the guns into the waistband of her shorts. She quickly returned her attention to her hostage and taped his mouth closed, before taping his arms to the arms of the chair.

Finally, she stepped back to watch Mac. "He looks confused, Mac."

Mac put the finishing touches to the bomb he had created. "Oh, this very simple," he said, addressing the bound man. "Should you manage to get out of that tape and try to get out of this room, or somebody tries to save you, these lasers will trigger the pipe bomb attached to that canister of hydrogen gas. There's enough gas in there to kill you and to make the cleaning crew very unhappy."

Taylor stepped back away from the green lasers and turned her head so her hair hid her face to their hostage. "Mac, I don't particularly care about him, but how safe is that for us?"

"We'll be fine,' Mac assured her. "Just don't go too near it."

Taylor nodded, pulling the gun from her waistband and handing it back to him. He took it from her and led her back down the corridor. "What now?" she asked him.

"We need to find Hawkes," he whispered, edging down the corridor, his gun drawn.

Taylor followed, constantly checking over her shoulder when Mac suddenly froze as he rounded a corner. For a second, Taylor thought another bad guy had found them, and then Mac lowered the gun.

"Hawkes? You okay?"

Taylor let out a sigh of relief and threw herself at the other CSI, hugging him tightly.

"I'm fine," Hawkes told them when Taylor stepped back. "What about you two?" he asked, looking at Taylor.

"Actually, I'm thinking today is probably the day I should have listened to Mac for once and not come in here," she said, managing a smile, staring thoughtfully at the elevator in front of them.

"This isn't why I don't want you in here," Mac told her.

The smile Hawkes had on his face was quickly replaced with a sombre expression as he pulled something out of his pocket. "Adam's ID. I took it off one of the guys."

Mac took it off him. "That's blood."

"Yeah," Hawkes agreed as he watched Taylor nip into a lap and reappear seconds later with some fingerprint powder and a brush. "Yeah, it didn't come from the guy who had it, either."

With her tongue poking out from the side of her mouth, Taylor gently applied the dust to the elevator button. Holding her breath, she applied the tape and carefully peeled it back.

"Any luck finding that bullet?" Mac asked, oblivious to what Taylor was doing behind him.

Hawkes nodded and held the bullet up.

Taylor joined Mac's side, a grin plastered on her face, as she held up the print and waved it about. "Look what I've got!"

Mac stared at it. "When did you learn to do that?"

"As you said, I spend more time in here than some of your employees. I figured it was about time to step up."

As Mac looked at her, smiling, for the first time, Taylor noted that he actually looked... proud. He took it off her and walked into the lab, Taylor and Hawkes right behind them. He picked up a print Hawkes had lifted earlier and compared it to Taylor's print. "This is a match to the print off the 50 calibre."

Hawkes, who was keeping an eye out at the door, turned. "So the guy running the operation downstairs is the same guy who killed Gavin Wilder."

The laptop next to Mac bleeped. Taylor hurried over to glance at the result. "Right, it looks like a case to case hit in your database. It's a match to the slug pulled from Candice Broadbent?" she frowned. "Who is Candice Broadbent?"

"That FBI agent?" Hawkes asked.

Mac nodded. "She was tracking an ex-IRA terrorist living in New York City before she was gunned down a few months ago. Until now, the case was unsolved."

The building suddenly fell silent. Taylor looked up, meeting Mac's gaze. "They've stopped."

Mac frowned. "They're in."

"What now?" Hawkes asked.

Mac picked up the phone. "Now, I distract them while you two find us some guns."

Taylor shared a look with Hawkes and nodded, the two of them slipping from the room. She followed Hawkes to the ballistics lab and the pair began picking a gun. Then Mac's voice suddenly rang through the lab.

"_We know about Candice Broadbent. FBI agent. Mother of two boys. You shot her point blank, execution style to the head. The night you pulled the trigger, she called me. Agent Broadbent said she had some information to a case I was working on. A case with ties to an ex-IRA agent living in Hell's Kitchen._"

Taylor turned to Hawkes. "How is he doing that?"

"Intercom," he told her, pointing to the phone. He looked at the AK-47 Taylor had picked up. "Do you know how to use that?"

Taylor shook her head. "Nope. I'm hoping you point and shoot."

Hawkes sighed and pulled a smaller automatic gun from the cupboard, handing it over. "Use this one."

Taylor nodded, and followed Hawkes out of the lab, back into the corridor to wait for Mac.

"_You may be smart enough to get away with your drugs today, but I promise you I will find you, and after putting you behind bars, I will make it my personal mission to hunt down whoever you were protecting_."

There was the sound of a small commotion from the room the Irish druglords were in, and then Mac appeared. Taylor smirked. "Mac, I think you may have just pissed them off."

"Good," he told her.

All of the sudden the sprinklers burst into life – water down everywhere. Taylor let out a gasp at the coldness of it. "What the hell?"

"I think that means they're leaving," Hawkes told her.

Mac shook his head. "We can't let the cocaine get out of the building."

Taylor almost laughed. "I saw that drug pile. There's no way these guys are walking out of the building with that."

"They must have vehicles in the basement." He turned to Hawkes. "Get down there, seal the exits." He then turned to Taylor. "Do you think you're up for it?"

Taylor looked at him. "This is important to you?"

Mac just nodded.

Taylor pulled the strap over her head and held the gun properly. "Let's find out."

"There's only two ways down there. The elevators and the stairs," he told them.

"I'll take the stairs," Hawkes announced, quickly disappearing.

"I guess that leaves me with the elevator," Taylor muttered, taking steps in that direction.

Mac stopped her, grabbing her shoulder. "Be careful."

Taylor glanced back and gave him a nervous smile. "You too."

She carried on back to the elevator, stopping around the corner. They were busy moving the drugs from the vault to the elevator – there was no way she was going to get it that way. Quickly weighing her options, she turned and ran to the stairs.

Carefully, she opened the door, only just remembering to poke the barrel of the gun in first, before stepping into the dry herself. Seeing there was no one there, she ran up a flight of stairs, pausing for her breath at the top, before carrying on to the elevator on the floor above her.

She reached them and looked around for something to prise them open with, spotting the fire axe. Using her gun, she broke the glass, grabbed the axe, and then stuck the blade between the doors. Throwing her weight into it, she pushed the doors open and looked down the dimly lit shaft.

"Lara Croft, eat your heart out," she muttered to herself, swinging the gun over her shoulder. She pulled off her flip flops, took a deep breath – and leapt forward. Taylor grabbed the wires with an 'oomph' as she crashed into them, and then slid down onto the roof of the car.

She crouched there, catching her breath for a moment. "Bruce Willis always made this look so easy," she grumbled as her fingers struggled to pull the hatch open a crack. Making sure there was no one else in there, she hovered over the edge. "Alright, Taylor," she muttered to herself. "It's time to step up."

She dropped down, wincing as her ankle cracked in the fall. She ignored the pain and poked her head up, the gun back in her hands, aimed in front of her. The men were preoccupied with another load of drugs, and she took the opportunity to lean forward and hit the button for the top floor. The elevator pinged, and Taylor glanced up – all the men had spotted her. She ducked behind the drugs just as they opened fire.

By the time she made it to the top floor, she was surprised to find she wasn't shaking. She made her way around the drugs, grabbed the handle to the truck they were on, and pulled. She only pulled it out part way and then left it in the middle of the doorway. "You can stay there," she panted, watching the doors open and close on it.

She turned her attention to the stairs, and keeping her gun trained in front of her, slowly limped her way downstairs.

* * *

"_Cop, are ya there?"_

Flack pounced on his radio. "Yeah, I'm here," he replied calmly.

"_You released my boys?_"

Flack glanced at Lindsay before replying. "I spoke to my supervisors. They're working on it. It's just gonna take a little more time."

"_The thing is, there isn't any more time left."_

Flack turned, not wanting to see the horrified expression on Lindsay's face. "Now look, I'm trying here, but you're not giving us much incentive. So how about you put one of my guys on the radio and let me see how he's doing? If they're alive and fine, I know that will speed things up."

"_How about I give you the sound of his last dying breath?"_ the voice fired out. "_Will that speed thins up?"_

"WAIT!" Flack cried. The heat image on the screen was dashing towards to figure huddled up in a corner. From the corner of his eye, he saw Louie stop pacing, look up, and then disappear. "IT'S GOING DOWN!" he bellowed at the surrounding officers, running towards the warehouse.

There was organised pandemonium as the officers swarmed into the building, arms trained on the two masked men with guns in front of them.

"Drop the guns!" Flack yelled.

Louie appeared next to him. "Danny's in the back! You've got to get to him!"

"Drop the guns!" Flack repeated, moving around the side of the car. As he did, one of the men moved and the officer next to him opened fire.

"NO!" Adam screamed as the man dropped to the floor.

"STOP FIRING!" Flack bellowed.

Adam moved in front of the man which was still standing. "These are the good guys!" He ripped the mask of him. "They're cops!"

The officer who had shot the other man swore. Flack ignored him, holstered his weapon and ran over to the fallen officer's side. "We need a medic in here!" he yelled. "Officer down!" EMS dashed over and Flack moved out of the way. He looked up at Adam. "Where's Danny?"

"Back that way," Adam told him, staring down at the scene in front of him.

Flack left him, ducking behind the truck, and spotted Danny being helped along by Lindsay. "Danny!"

"Hey Flack."

"How was the honeymoon?" he asked him.

"Better than this," Danny said, half laughing before he had to stop for the pain.

"Jeeze, you're a mess," Flack told him. "Somebody get EMS over here," he shouted back behind him.

"I'll take him," Lindsay told Flack, ducking under Danny's shoulder and bearing the weight to lead him away.

Flack watched them go before he walked back to the fallen officer, just in time to witness the medic shaking his head. "Crap," he muttered softly, catching Adam's attention.

"He was just a cop," Adam told him, clearly upset.

"Detective Flack!"

Flack didn't have time to comfort him, instead hurrying over to the officer that had called him – it was his brother. "What have you got, Sean?"

Sean pointed at a car which was parked to one side. "I have no idea," he said, leading Flack around to the trunk. "A bunch of gas masks?"

Flack's expression grew grim. "Lindsay said there was a gas leak at the Lab. This is just a diversion. They're going after the drugs."

Sean's eyes widened.

"We've got to get back to the lab," Flack told him, before grabbing his radio and repeating himself.

* * *

Taylor was down to the first floor. She popped out into the entrance, just as three firemen appeared from the elevators. She held her gun up at them and shook her head. "Oh, I don't think so."

The leader grinned at her. "You're gonna stop us? You and what army?" Suddenly his face fell.

"That would be us!" Flack exclaimed as he stood on one side of Taylor, Hawkes on the other, both with their guns drawn. "Now drop the bags."

The would-be firemen did as he said, and police officers swarmed around Taylor to arrest them.

Taylor lowered her gun as Flack grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. "Taylor? What the hell are you doing here?"

Taylor grinned weakly at him. "Helping to save the day."

Flack shook his head, leading her outside. "Where's Mac?"

"I don't know," Taylor admitted, suddenly conscious of the fact she looked like a drowned rat, she had no shoes on, and that everyone was staring at them.

From above them came the sound of an almighty explosion, causing half the street to scream in shock. Taylor ducked as glass and debris began raining down around them.

"Move!" Flack bellowed, pushing her across the street in the same direction everyone else was going.

Taylor stopped, resisting him. "Don, Mac's still in there!"

Flack looked up at the building before looking at Taylor. "Taylor get across the street and wait for me there."

Taylor watched him for all of five seconds, before she ran after him.

"Taylor-" Flack started.

"Mac!" Taylor yelled, running around Flack and on to Mac as he came out of the building, looking completely exhausted. "Are you alright?"

Mac nodded at her.

"Mac!"

Taylor turned, moving out of the way just in time to see Peyton launch herself at him. The two muttered something between them, and then Mac started to walk away. "Mac?" Taylor called after him. "Where are you going?"

Mac stopped and looked back at her. "I think I deserve a vacation," he told her. "I'm going to London." He smiled. "Oh, and Taylor. You made me proud." He then draped his arm over Peyton's shoulder, pulled her close, and walked away, disappearing into the crowds.

Flack was suddenly standing in front of Taylor, examining her. "What happened in there? Are you alright?"

Taylor looked up at him, staring straight into his deep blue eyes, and without warning, grabbed his face, raining kisses over it. "Don," she said, between the kisses. "I want to get married."

Flack grabbed her hands, pulling them from his face and stepped back. "We are getting married."

Taylor shook her head. "No, I mean, I'm ready. I don't know want to wait anymore. I don't know why I wanted to wait at all. So let's get married. Tomorrow, if we have to, but let's do it. I love you, and I don't want something to happen where I'm going to regret not ever getting married to you."

Flack wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly to him. "I couldn't agree more," he muttered into her wet hair.

* * *

_Well, I am officially unemployed. Again. Oh, the joy. That being said, I am also in the process of becoming a police volunteer (aka a 'special', which means I will hopefully, fitness test pending, be able to chase down criminals and actually arrest them, mwahahahahaha!) If no one wants to employ me, I shall find other ways to occupy my time!_


	240. I'm A Rock Star!

_No, you aren't imagining things... no, you don't need your eyes testing... and no your computer doesn't have a virus..._

_Alright, so it's possible that the above three things may actually be true, but the point I am trying to make is that a miracle has happened and I have indeed updated my story. Now, I will admit that the next two chapters (yes, you are going to get two chapters out of me) have been saved on my computer for a couple... (half a year) of months, but another miracle happened (I'm wracking them up!) and between friday and now, I have written a good ten thousand words because I have found some excitment in what I was writing. That's not to say I am bored to tears when writing, but maybe it's just been that long since I have written that I'm happy to be writing again. I hope (as of 241) you can sense that excitement. Assuming you haven't given me up for dead? (I would have!)_

_I'm not going to get into the details of the latest disappearing act - we can leave it at real life issues = writer's block. Or, put another way, for the past three months I haven't written because either Flack and Taylor would have split up, or Taylor would be dead. For real - end of story - and unluckily for y'all, I have a few more things planned before I intend on finishing this._

_I'm not going to write review replies today - I'm going to weasel out of it with the three following reasons:_

_1) It's been that long since you reviewed, you may not remember what you actually were refering to, without reading the last few chapters again_

_2) It's been that long since I posted, I am sturggling to remember what you actually were referring to, without reading the last few chapters again_

_3) It's been that long since I posted and you reviewed that you'd probably rather read the chapter_

_What I will say is, thank you for your reviews - and for those who have been sending me pms asking wtf happened to me / trying to persuade me to update again since I disappeared. I do genuinely feel bad, and, while I'm not going to make promises I can't keep, I will try to make the muses stick around... but hey, if you can't write, you just can't write! Anyway, looking at this very long author's note, it appears that I like the sound of my own voice... or whatever the equivelant is... So I will shut up now and get on with posting two chapters for you!_

**

* * *

__****Chapter 239: I'm a Rock Star**

Taylor could sense herself waking up, but she had no desire to open her eyes. Instead, she snuggled back into Flack's arms, and willed herself back to sleep. As if knowing what she was thinking, Flack reached behind them, grabbed at the covers and pulled them up around their naked forms, wrapping his arm around her.

Sleep wouldn't come, and Taylor opened her eyes, watching a glimmer of sun make its way through the curtains and play with the ruby in her engagement ring. She teased rainbows off it before finally pulling it up to her to admire it.

"About time."

Taylor jumped and then glared at her faux blonde friend. "I swear to God, when we finally redecorate this room, I will be putting salt in the wallpaper paste, and the paint – and that's after I've put up a fake wall and lined the middle with salt."

"Nicely diverted," Maddy grinned. "And you wouldn't do that. You love me too much."

"Not when my fiancé isn't wearing clothes, I don't. Perve," she muttered under her breath. Taylor inhaled deeply and then gave Maddy a smile. "Alright, my dear Madeline. What can I do for you?"

Maddy looked completely confused. "Who are you, and what have you done with Taylor?"

Taylor shrugged. "Did you see me yesterday? I was a superhero. I took on the Irish Mob, and won! If I can do that, I can do anything!"

"I'll ask you that again tomorrow," Maddy told her. "See if you still feel the same then."

"Try it," Taylor continued to grin. "Because I am a rockstar."

"You're a doofas," Maddy corrected her.

"Why are you here again?" Taylor asked.

"Can't a girl visit her BFF?"

"What the hell is a BFF?" Taylor asked, frowning.

Maddy laughed. "When did you get old? Spend some time with Riley." And then she disappeared.

"Best friend forever," Flack yawned.

Taylor rolled over and stared at him in amazement.

"What?" he asked her, bringing his arm up under the pillow.

"I don't know what surprises me more?" Taylor admitted. "The fact you know what BFF is, or that you knew Maddy was there?"

"I'm getting good at knowing when ghosts are around," Flack told her. He yawned again. "How are your feet?"

Before they had left the precinct the day before, Flack had insisted that the paramedics check Taylor's feet over. There were a couple of cuts and scrapes, but aside from a twisted ankle, there was no major damage.

"It's a little sore, but it's nothing…" she trailed off as her cell phone started ringing. She gave Flack an apologetic smile and reached over for her phone. It wasn't a number she recognized, and she gave an excited squeal as she realized who it was. "Dad?"

"_Hello Taylor. How are you?"_

"I'm great," Taylor told him. Suddenly she frowned. Her dad calling the day after she helped stop the Irish Mob steal back an insane amount of drugs from within a crime lab? Hardly a coincidence. "For the record, I didn't intentionally go into that building with the intention of getting involved. I was already there-"

"_What are you talking about?_"

Taylor frowned. "You're not calling about the incident in the crime lab?"

"_Incident_?" he repeated.

"Hi Dad, how are you?" Taylor quickly asked.

"_Well, I was doing fine until thirty seconds ago_," he told her. _"However, I am not going to press this over the phone, and you can tell me the story in person. I'm back on home soil for Fleet Week."_

Taylor let out another excited squeal, and then gave Flack an apologetic look as he winced. "But Fleet Week is in the fall."

"_Not in LA_," Captain Turner corrected her. "_I want you and Don to fly out here. I haven't really had the chance to vet your fiancé properly._"

Taylor rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. "Dad, it's not just me and Don. There's Riley too."

She could hear her father take a deep breath down the phone. "_Taylor, when I left you, you had just awoken from that coma, and there was no mention of you being pregnant. Now, I'm fairly certain things haven't changed since I've been at sea-"_

"Dad!" Taylor cut him off before he could actually say something she never wanted to hear come out of either parent's mouth. "We're fostering. Riley is a foster child. She's nearly sixteen. And then there's Chase."

"_Do I want to know_?" her father asked warily.

"He's one of Riley's friends," Taylor explained. "And when I have my way, I will also be fostering him too."

There was a long pause. "_Bring them both with you."_

"We can't afford it," Taylor admitted after doing the math in her head. "I don't think I could afford to just fly myself out there."

"Tay?" Flack whispered.

Taylor hurriedly covered the mouthpiece. "Don, four of us flying to the other side of the country? That's two grand in air fare alone. I've been studying our accounts and trust me, it's not going to happen."

"_Taylor?_"

"Sorry Dad," Taylor muttered, bringing the phone back to her ear.

Captain Turner released another weary sigh. There was no doubt in his mind that his daughter was one of the main reasons he had gone grey prematurely. _"Taylor, I will arrange for four tickets to be at JFK for you to pick up tomorrow. I will send you a text message with the details later. See you tomorrow."_

Taylor said her goodbyes and hung up.

"Well?" Flack asked her.

"You know how last night you said that blowing up the crime lab did you a favor and you were looking forward to a nice long weekend?"

"Yes," he said, drawing out the word.

Taylor smiled at him.

* * *

Riley was sat on the sofa, watching Taylor pace up and down in front of the fire place. "You're going to wear your carpet out."

Taylor barely heard her, treading the familiar path back and forth. She had wanted to go with Flack to the motel Chase lived at, but had reluctantly agreed that it might not be the best of ideas. Instead, she was stuck at home, waiting for Flack to plead their case. It was only a weekend. Surely he could come for a few days? It wasn't like he was paying.

Finally, after what seemed like hours later, Taylor could hear the keys in the door. By this time, Riley, who had yet to be told _anything_ was curious as to who was walking through it. "What's going on?" she asked as she saw Chase, grinning like an idiot.

"Oh, thank God," Taylor mumbled, sitting down heavily in the chair. Her heart had been beating a million miles a minute at the thought of Flack retuning without the teen, and then knowing he would be left on the other side of the country where they couldn't help if they needed to. As the relief flooded her, Taylor knew for certain that when they got back from LA, she was going to do _everything_ in her power to get that boy living in the house with them.

"We're going to Los Angeles," Flack told them when he realized Taylor wasn't going to.

Riley's mouth hit the floor as Chase leapt over at her, hugging her excitedly.

"The flights are early," Flack continued. "So we're going to expect you in bed by the time we get back from the hospital."

"Separate beds," Taylor added.

"Ew!" Riley exclaimed, as Chase pulled a face.

"Chase, you're in Cordelia's room."

After making sure that the two teenagers were occupied with a DVD and threats of 'you'd best be in bed when we get back or you're not getting on that plane with us', Taylor and Flack headed out the door for the subway.

They arrived at the hospital just in time for visiting hours and made their way upstairs. "Surprise," Taylor called softly, knocking at Adam's door.

He was lying in the bed, all bandaged up, watching a shark documentary on the television, but he managed a smile when he saw his visitors. "Taylor? Flack?"

"Hey little lab rat," Flack greeted him. "How ya doin'?"

"I've been better," he admitted.

"How's your hand?" Taylor asked. Flack had filled her in on what had happened in the warehouse.

"Better than Danny's. I don't see how he missed out on a night in hospital," Adam grumbled.

"Danny didn't have cracked ribs," Flack told him.

"You don't look like you're staying here long anyway," Taylor pointed out. He wasn't wearing one of the hospital night gowns, but was instead, lying on the covers wearing a pair of jeans and his _I think, therefore iMac_ t-shirt.

"I'm being released," Adam told her.

"Have you got somewhere to stay?" Taylor asked him. "You shouldn't be alone. You can come back with us," she offered, without thinking about it.

"I'm good," Adam replied. "Thanks though." He frowned and turned the television off. "I heard I have to thank you for a week off work anyway."

Taylor frowned. "A week? You should be off for longer with cracked ribs. And how am I responsible?"

Flack laughed. "I think he means how you kinda helped blow up the lab?"

Adam nodded. "I know a few guys who will happily buy you a drink or two for that."

"What? Not you?" Taylor pouted.

"I actually like working there," Adam admitted, looking a little sheepish.

"So what are you going to do to occupy yourself?" Flack asked.

"Babysit," Stella announced from the doorway, Liam sleeping in a baby carrier in her hands.

"You're staying with Stella?" Taylor blurted out.

Stella quirked an eyebrow at her. "Gee, sound appalled."

Taylor's mouth dropped open. "No!" she exclaimed. "I didn't mean it like that."

"The doctor wouldn't release me unless I had someone to stay with," Adam muttered.

"So he called me," Stella told them, beaming. She turned to Flack and cocked her head. "Are you really going to let the new mother stand in the doorway all night?"

Flack was on his feet in a shot, offering his chair to her, and Stella sank into it, settling Liam on the floor next to her.

"Now," said Stella, settling back into the chair. "Before we leave this hospital, I want to hear how you managed to blow the crime lab up."


	241. Ghosts of Someone Else's Past

_Oh heck, in my excitement to post, I forgot something important - a big thank you to sparky for still being my beta (and doing a fab job at it too!)_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 240: Ghosts of Someone Else's Past**

"I told you I was a rock star," Taylor beamed happily after they had finally gathered their bags and were heading to the airport shuttle.

"Actually, I think it was Maddy you told," Flack pointed out. "And I distinctly remember a half hour up there where you were acting like the plane was going to crash."

"Taylor's terrified of flying," Riley told Chase, unable to stop from rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, I gathered from the screaming," Chase agreed.

"Hey!" Taylor objected. "I was not screaming."

Riley pulled a face. "You kinda were."

Taylor looked over at Flack who just shrugged at her. "Et tu, Brute?" she asked him, batting her eyelashes. He just laughed. "Fine," Taylor mock-sulked. "See if I care."

Riley and Chase shot to the back of the shuttle bus as soon as it arrived, leaving Flack and Taylor to make sure their cases got onboard safely. By the time they got on to find their own seats, they were sitting midway down the bus.

"I really hope your father got us separate rooms for those kids at the Crowne Plaza," Flack muttered. They could hear the two teenagers babbling excitedly at the back of the bus.

"I thought teenagers were supposed to be easier than children," Taylor muttered back.

Flack looked at her incredulously. "Seriously?"

Taylor frowned, thinking about what she said, and shook her head. "Yeah, I take that back."

* * *

It took the best part of two hours get there – they had arrived in the middle of rush hour traffic, and on top of that, the shuttle had to make several other indirect stops before they arrived at the hotel. As such, Taylor was less than impressed when the harassed looking check-in girl handed them swipe cards to one room.

The room was nice. It was free, and paid for by the Navy, so Taylor could hardly complain. However, there were only two double beds. Taylor looked at Flack and pulled a face. He gave a sigh. "I'll head back downstairs," he told her.

Taylor dragged the cases into the room and made her way to the window, ignoring Riley and Chase who were now arguing over what they wanted to watch on the television. They had been given a room on the top floor which looked out over the river. In the distance she could see one of the naval vessels docked.

It was a good half hour before Flack managed to return and he shook his head as soon as he entered the room. "They're booked up. The poor check-in girl looked like she was going to cry at one point."

"Those two are not sharing a bed," Taylor told him.

Flack joined her side and shook his head again. "The good news is that that sofa is actually a sofa bed.

Taylor let out a small sigh of relief before turning her attention to the teenagers sprawled over the couch, having finally settled on watching something on the Discovery Channel. "Right, we have three hours before we meet my father. I'm having a shower. I suggest you think about doing the same." She turned to Flack and lowered her voice. "Want to join me?"

"Yeah," Flack nodded. "But I probably shouldn't."

"This has my mother written all over it," Taylor muttered, moving back to the bed and pulling her suitcase onto it. Finding the dress she was looking for, she grabbed her bath things and headed for the shower.

* * *

Her father had told them to meet at the Hard Rock Café in Hollywood. He had already made the reservations, so when they arrived all they had to do was follow the hostess through the restaurant to a table by the guitar that had once belonged to Dave Navarro of Jane's Addiction. Taylor was so fascinated by the memorabilia on the wall that she didn't see her mother until it was too late.

"Oh, crap," she blurted out.

"Taylor Nicole Turner!" her mother chided her. "You will not use that language."

Taylor ignored her, giving her father a hug. "Hi Dad," Taylor whispered softly. "I've missed you."

"You look beautiful," he told her, stepping back. He looked over her shoulder at the small crowd behind her. "And these would be Riley and Chase?"

Her father seemed to take to the teenagers straight away, but her mother sat there, barely speaking. Taylor ignored her, focusing on the meal in front of them. She knew her mother, and knew it wasn't personal. As far as Nicolette was concerned, Taylor should have been married to Flack before kids were thought of, and even then, she knew that she would have preferred adoption to fostering. It was just the way she was, and Taylor was anxious for a nice meal that she didn't want to say anything to ruin it.

It wasn't until her father had paid for the bill that he produced another surprise for them. "I know you can't stay long," he told the teenagers. "And I know you kids are only going to be able to stand one day of ships and sailors."

Flack looked at Taylor who shrugged back at him. She had no idea what he was about to say.

"If you would be so kind to join me at the docks tomorrow, so Taylor and Don can have a day to themselves, I will let you have these." From the top pocket of his jacket he pulled out four tickets for Universal Studios.

Riley and Chase were speechless.

"Dad, we can't accept them," Taylor hissed at him. "You've already bought the plane tickets out here."

"Do you want to be responsible for disappointing those two?" he whispered back at her, a subtle nod of the head at Riley and Chase who were babbling excitedly to Flack.

"No," Taylor admitted. "But you can't keep spending money on us."

Her father just smiled.

They finished up and said goodbye to her parents, her mother remaining unnaturally quiet, and decided that they would grab a bus to see the stars on Hollywood Boulevard. Taylor, who had been to Los Angeles numerous times before she had moved to New York, and Flack , who was only interested in the occasional star, held back, walking hand in hand, as Riley and Chase stormed off ahead to see how many famous people they could find.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?" Flack asked her.

"I don't care," Taylor replied. "I lived in San Diego. It was easy to get to LA when I wanted so I've seen the sights. This one is all on you."

"Let's see what the weather is like then," Flack told her.

Taylor burst out laughing. "It's California. It will be warm and dry." She was about to launch into a very long grumble about the lack of seasons there, but she stopped when she spotted someone walk out of a bar a few buildings ahead of them. "Is that Cory?" she asked Flack.

Flack looked over at the back of the auburn haired woman Taylor was pointing at and frowned. "Who?"

"Cory Reid. The FBI agent." She glanced up at Flack and shrugged. "Ex-FBI agent. She quit."

"I doubt it," Flack told her, shortly.

Taylor's eyes narrowed. There was something in the way he responded to that, which had her doubting him. "And why's that?"

Flack shrugged, his face relaxing. "Why would she be in LA?"

"Other people do vacation here," Taylor pointed out. Cory disappeared into another bar.

"It's not Cory," Flack told her firmly.

Taylor wasn't paying any attention. She was distracted by the ghost that was following the ex-FBI agent. He was currently standing outside the bar, watching through the window, a troubled frown on his face. Almost like he was worried about the woman he was following. Taylor stared at him. Judging from Cory's behavior, there was probably a very good chance she didn't know she was being followed. The ghost looked up, catching her stare, and then disappeared.

"Who are you?" Taylor muttered.

"A stranger who has the same hair color as Cory," Flack told her.

Taylor didn't bother to correct him. Instead, she turned her attention to where they were. They had wandered down the street for long enough to arrive at the Chinese Theatre, and Riley and Chase were busy comparing their handprints to Arnold Schwarzenegger's.

They spent another hour playing at tourist before finally deciding to grab a cab back to the hotel. As the waited by the side of the road to hail one down, Taylor's attention was again caught by the auburn haired woman leaving the bar. It was definitely Cory.

Seconds later, another woman came out of the bar, chasing after her, shouting something Taylor couldn't hear over the noise of the street. They were arguing now. The woman looked scared, but she wasn't so afraid that her hands weren't flying around as she argued with the ex FBI agent. She couldn't see Cory's face anymore – her back was to her – but her posture didn't seem angry. Concerned, maybe?

The two paused in their argument momentarily as a group of people passed them, and then, when they had gone, the two continued, although their movements had become smaller.

When the ghost reappeared, Taylor knew for a fact that Cory couldn't see him. There was no way she would ignore him – not with the panicked, helpless expression on his face as he tried desperately to tell her something.

"What on earth…?" Taylor asked, taking a step in their direction.

Suddenly, Flack was yelling "GET DOWN!" shoving her behind a parked car. Taylor slammed onto the ground, only just putting her hands out in time to catch herself. Then, all she was conscious of was gun fire, glass exploding, and screams.

There was a squeal of tires and a roar of an engine. For a second, the street was silent, and then the screaming started up again.

Taylor sat up, looking around, desperately for Riley and Chase, spotting them a few yards up the street, cowering behind another parked car, eyes wide. Conscious of the fact Flack was already dialing 911, she scrambled over to them. "Are you alright?" she asked them, grabbing at Riley's shoulders so she could check her over. "You're bleeding," she cried in alarm.

Riley shook her head, slightly dazed. "It's not me," she told her.

Taylor looked at her hands. "But there's blood," she told her, holding her palms up. She went to check Riley over again, but Chase's warm hands were on her wrist.

"I think it's your blood," he told her.

Taylor glanced back at the palms of her hands. It took a moment, and she realized that Chase was right. She sank back down heavily on the pavement and let out a deep breath. "Thank God," she muttered. She jumped as Flack placed a hand on her shoulder, crouching down next to them.

"Is everyone alright?" he asked them.

Riley and Chase nodded.

"Tay," he murmured in her ear. "A minute?"

Taylor nodded, allowing him to help her to her feet.

"Your hands?" he muttered, frowning at the grazes.

"They don't hurt," Taylor told him. "I was more worried about Riley and Chase. What happened?"

"Drive by shooting," Flack told her, nodding his head across the street.

Taylor's eyes widened. "Cory!" She whirled around. The woman Cory had been arguing with was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Cory, thankfully, was alright, crouched down next to her, trying to stop the blood. "Oh my God," she muttered.

Flack sighed. "Call your father."

Taylor looked at him, frowning. "Dad?"

Flack nodded. "You sound like you saw something that might help the LAPD," he admitted. "And if we're going to be spending hours giving statements, you should ask your father to take the kids back to the hotel and stay with them."

* * *

Her father told them he was taking the kids back to the _USS Nimitz_. Although the supercarrier's homeport was NAS North Island in San Diego, an exception had been made to dock her in Los Angeles for Fleet Week so crew could visit their families, but also so the public could have a look and view the vessel and the planes she homed. Taylor was fairly certain that her father was breaking several regulations by having the children sleep on the ship, but she was thankful – it meant that they would be safe.

It wasn't the LAPD that took their statement, but rather, a couple of FBI agents. Agent Sinclair and Betancourt weren't particularly forthcoming with information, even when Flack mentioned he was an NYPD homicide detective. All they would say was that it was 'probably gang related'.

By the time they made it back to the hotel room, it was late. Taylor was exhausted. She sank onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"I need a beer," Flack told her. "There's a liquor store across the way. You want something too?"

"Wine," Taylor muttered. "Lots of wine."

He disappeared, leaving Taylor alone.

For all of five minutes.

The second the temperature dipped and the goose bumps appeared, she knew she wasn't alone. She turned her head, expecting to see Maddy, but sat up suddenly when she saw it was the man who had been following Cory.

Her eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"James. James Hogan."

She eyed him warily, drinking in his appearance. He wasn't wearing white. So he wasn't likely to be an LA equivalent of Maddy or Aiden, or even Speed. He also didn't show any visible signs of cause of death, so unless he was poisoned, he wasn't there to get her to solve her death. He also knew his name. Which led her to one conclusion.

"You know you're dead."

"_You_ know I'm dead," he countered.

Taylor arched an eyebrow. "Is that not why you're here?"

"You can see me, and you can understand me?" he asked her.

"Sadly," she sighed. "So, James Hogan, how can I help you?"

James walked over to the couch, settling down into it, his long legs stretched onto the coffee table as he eyed her thoughtfully. "I have been dead five years and you're the first person who can see me."

"Yes," she said, nodding patiently. "It's a gift. I think."

He stared at her for a moment longer, watching her carefully. "_Would_ you help me?"

Taylor stared back, unblinking. "You're the first person to ask me that," she said finally.

"Is that a yes?"

"It's a yes, with conditions," she told him. "We're working on a very small time frame here. I'm in LA for two and a half more days, and on Saturday I have to spend the day with Riley and Chase. And if they are around, you can't be. They don't know I can see ghosts, and I am not letting this weekend get even crazier for them."

James nodded. "That seems fair."

Taylor crossed her legs underneath her and cocked her head. "Exactly what kind of help do you need?"

"I can't stay here much longer," he sighed. "I think she almost knows that I'm here, that she can sense me, and I need her to move on. I want her to be happy. She deserves it."

"You don't see a light?" Taylor asked him thoughtfully.

"I can't go until I know she's going to be alright."

"Is this related to the shooting earlier?"

James frowned. "The shooting is only part of it. Cory is more than capable of looking after herself with that."

"I'm a little confused," Taylor admitted.

"She blames herself for you getting shot."

Taylor blinked. "You know about that?"

"You think I've been dead five years and not been with the woman I love for that time?" he asked her. "Of course I know about it."

"Then you should know it wasn't her fault," Taylor pointed out. "I'm the person who got in too deep with my research. And Felix Bohr is the person who shot me. Not Cory."

"I know that," James agreed. "And I think that, deep down, Cory knows that too. But she blames herself, because she was the one who carried out Bohr's background checks. The demotion she got before she quit only confirmed that in her mind."

"I'm still not sure I understand," she told him.

James sighed patiently. "I want you to tell her that it wasn't her fault."

The door opened behind them and Flack walked in, pulling out a bottle of wine. "They didn't have the greatest selection of wine," he said. He stopped and looked at Taylor. "There's a ghost in here, isn't there." It wasn't a question.

Taylor nodded. "And you know this, how?"

"It's either that, or you're having a conversation with an empty couch." He sighed and sat the alcohol onto the table. "I guess we're headed to the FBI."

"It's not the FBI we have to go see," Taylor told him. "And you don't have-"

"Shut up," Flack said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not having you wandering around this city by yourself. Who do we need to speak to?"

"Cory," Taylor told him with a smile. "I knew it was her. It shou-"

"Not a chance," Flack said, cutting her off again.

Taylor stared blankly at him. "Not a chance?"

"You are not going anywhere near her," he confirmed. "I don't care what some stupid ghost is telling you."

"Why?" James growled, getting to his feet.

"Yeah, why?" Taylor asked, looking at Flack.

Flack scowled. "Because she is dangerous and you are not getting dragged into whatever gang related mess she has gotten herself into."

James was striding over to Flack, straight through the coffee table, his fists clenched. With her eyes wide, Taylor leapt to her feet and got between the two of them, holding her hands up to stop James. He walked straight through her. "Oh!" Taylor gasped.

"What?" Flack demanded. "What is the ghost doing?"

Taylor whirled around. The 'ghost' was inches away from Flack's face. "Keep up talking crap about my fiancé and I will kick your ass." James growled.

Taylor darted over, shivering uncomfortably as she got between the two men, accidentally, passing through James. "Stop it. Both of you. We are not doing this."

She turned to Flack. "Look, Don, it has nothing to do with the shooting. James, her fiancé, just wants to say goodbye."

Flack stared at her for a very long time. "Fine," he told her, finally. "Let's go."

Taylor pulled a face. "Don, it's late. She's not-"

"She's at the FBI," James told her.

"We're doing this tonight because we are not wasting tomorrow chasing after Cory Reid," Flack told her at the same time.

"Fine," Taylor conceded wearily. "Let's get this over and done with."


	242. Ghosts of the Past Stuck in the Present

_Well hello there... I don't know if you remember me. I'm not entirely sure I remember me. But I was trying to organise my emails and found a few beta'd chapters that I never posted. So here we go. If you're anything like me and need a recap on what the hell has been happening on the last 240 chapters, head to my profile. There's a link to the WTECS website which has a fairly detailed plot outline._

_If you're still there, and still reading - still waiting for updates... thank you. I've not completely given up on this story. I promise I am eventually going to finish it. I just need to get my life in order first._

_However, you don't need to hear about all that crap. Just know I'm still here, I'm still thankful for all the wonderful reviews I get - I still smile when I get alert and favourite adds. And I'm also exceedingly grateful to my wonderful beta for not only making sure the spelling is right, but for lending me her awesome character, Cory!_

* * *

**What The Eyes Can't See**

**Chapter 241: Ghosts of the Past Stuck in the Present**

The Los Angeles Field Office on Wilshire Boulevard is the third largest FBI headquarters in the United States. Taylor stared up at the nineteen-story building which was glowing in the lights reflecting off it. She took a deep breath and walked into the large, air-conditioned reception.

It was quiet, but there was still someone on the reception desk. "I'm here to see Corrine Reid," she told the man.

"We have no one working here under that name," he told her, after quickly checking his computer.

"No you won't," Taylor agreed. "She's with Agent Eppes."

The agent nodded. "Please wait."

Taylor wandered off to one side, her attention drawn by a wall of photographs. It took her a moment to realize it was a wall of memorials. "Wow," she muttered.

"That's one word," James agreed.

"Are you…?" she trailed off.

"No," he told her. "You'll find me in the Dallas Field Office."

Taylor sighed. "You're going to have to help me, you know?"

James shook his head. "Cory will believe you."

Taylor gave him a sideways glance. "She may well believe I see ghosts, James, but no one takes it well when I have a message from a dead loved one. So I'm going to need something."

"Can I help you?"

Taylor looked past James at the dark haired man who was watching her. "I don't know," Taylor told him as Flack appeared next to her.

"The agent at the desk said you were here to speak to me. Agent Eppes?"

Taylor quickly shook her head. "Actually, I'm here to see Agent Reid. Cory Reid," she quickly corrected herself.

"Ms. Reid is a little busy at the moment," Agent Eppes told her.

"I can wait," Taylor told him.

"Don!" a woman's voice called across the reception.

Taylor glanced over. A tall, slim woman, her dark hair tied back, was hurrying over to them and she looked visibly upset. She was followed close behind by a slightly shorter man with wild curly hair.

"Liz?" Agent Eppes made a couple of steps towards her. "What's the matter?"

"Corrine Reid – Cory. Is she here? Is she safe?" she asked.

Don nodded. "She's upstairs with Colby. She's fine," he told her. "How do you know Cory?"

"She was my supervisor in New York before I moved out here."

Don looked behind her at the man who had come in with her. Whereas Don and Liz were in dark trousers and shirts, this third person was in jeans, a t-shirt and a blazer. "Charlie? What are you doing here?"

"I asked him," Liz replied for him.

Don frowned but nodded. Taylor has a suspicion that the FBI agent's usual expression was serious like it was now, judging from the way Liz looked relieved.

"What happened?" Charlie asked. "Liz just said her friend had been shot at."

Don looked over at Taylor and Flack before turning his attention to Liz and Charlie. "You two head upstairs. I will meet you in the briefing room. And will you ask Cory to come down for a moment when you see her?" he asked Liz.

The pair entered the elevator, leaving Taylor, Flack and Don alone in the empty reception area again. "I'm sorry about this. I know you're in the middle of an investigation," Flack apologized to Don.

Don gave him the once over. "Law enforcement?"

Flack nodded proudly. "NYPD homicide. We witnessed the shooting earlier."

"You're here with information?" Don asked.

Flack shook his head. "No, Taylor just needs to pass on a message, but if you need any assistance, just let me know."

"That's good to know, thanks," Don told him. "I take it we have your statements?"

Flack nodded. "Yeah, I gave your agents the plates to the car, but I suspect it will come back stolen."

"Don't they always," Don agreed.

"Taylor?" Cory asked in surprise, her voice halting the bonding conversation, as she stepped off the elevator. "Flack?" she asked, sounding even more surprised.

"Hi Cory," Taylor greeted her softly, conscious of the dark look that has crossed Flack's face. "Can you spare a minute?"

Cory nodded and followed Taylor outside. "What's the matter, Taylor? What are you doing in LA? And how did you know I was here?"

"James told me," Taylor told her after they sat down on a bench.

"James?" Cory repeated, still confused.

"Your James."

"My James?" All of a sudden, the color fell from Cory's face. "James is dead," she whispered softly. "He died because of me."

Taylor whipped her head around to stare at James her eyes wide.

He shook his head. "It's not like that at all," he told her, quickly explaining.

Taylor turned back to Cory, sympathy in her eyes. "He died protecting you and he would do the same thing again if he had a second chance."

"No. He shouldn't have died that night. It should have been me!" Cory replied vehemently.

"If she had died, countless other people would have been hurt. It was not her time. It was mine," James said softly.

Taylor nodded gently. "James doesn't believe that," she told her. "He knows it was his time, and you staying alive, well, it kept other people alive - people who would have died otherwise."

Cory looked at her in disbelief. "You wouldn't have been shot because of me. Rosa would still be alive if I hadn't come here." She looked pensive a moment. "You know, I still feel James around me. I always have. I know that he's haunting me because I got him killed.

Taylor looked from Cory to the ghost in question, wondering what the best response to that was. As James was just staring expectantly at her, she sighed. "About that. James is still here." She frowned. "But he's not haunting you because he blames you," she added hurriedly.

"No, he's haunting me to punish me."

"No. I'm here to stop you from killing yourself," James growled, an expression of hurt on his face. "I may love you, Corrine Reid, but I don't want you to join me in the afterlife yet!"

"Cory, he's here because he loves you. He loves you so much, he doesn't want to see you hurt, to get hurt," Taylor explained, watching the ghost grow quite distraught.

"I don't believe you," Cory said flatly.

"I told you this would happen, James," Taylor told the ghost, sadly. "You have to give her some kind of proof."

"She has two horses, Sampson and Delilah. When I proposed, I had taken her on a midnight ride. We stopped by a small stream and under the full moon I withdrew the ring from my pocket."

Taylor looked up at James in disbelief. He certainly didn't look like someone who would pull of something as romantic as that. "Wow," she muttered. "That's... really sweet."

Cory looked at her in confusion and turned to walk away.

"He told me about the midnight ride he took you on to propose to you," she hurriedly called after her. "The full moon, the stream, Sampson and Delilah..."

Cory stopped dead in her tracks. "No one knows about that. It only happened a few days before he was killed. Only our families knew about the engagement," she said with a hoarse voice.

"Cory, I don't want to hurt you," Taylor told her. "I know you don't believe me when I say, I don't blame you for anything, but I really don't. Okay, maybe I blamed you for getting me kicked out of the lab, I admit that. But not the shooting." She gave James a sideways glance, before turning her attention to Cory. "We're worried about you. Both of us."

"Why? Why should I matter to either one of you?" Cory questioned as she turned back to look at Taylor. "It's obvious that Flack doesn't feel the same way, Taylor. Trust me when I say, it is better off just leaving me alone. Anyone close to me has a habit of dying. Just ask James."

Taylor bit her lip. "What does it matter what Don thinks?"

Cory looked at the woman, the hurt welling up inside of her as everything that she buried burst to the surface with the force of a volcano. "Do you know why I never visited you in the hospital, Taylor? I tried. Really, I did. I knew that Don was rightfully blaming me for the shooting, but I couldn't bear not to be there. So, I tried to go at hours that I knew he wouldn't be. I tried to get you to wake up, but one night, Flack found me there. He screamed at me about it being my fault. I left, knowing that he was right. It was several months before I saw him again. I knew by looking that you hadn't woken up and I turned, hoping to avoid him. The next moment I was pinned against a wall, his gun to my head and he told me to stay away from you."

Taylor paled. "What?"

Cory felt something cold touch her shoulder and it broke the cycle of pain she was feeling. Looking at the pale-faced woman standing before her, she realized what she had just done. "Shit, Taylor. He was just trying to protect you. I don't blame him, nor do I hold that against him." She sank on the bench, wearily. "I'm totally screwed up."

Taylor stood there, staring blindly at the square pond that decorated the front of the building. It wasn't possible! He would never do something like that. _Never_! Cory had to be mistaken.

"Taylor?" James broke her from her thoughts. "Taylor, he was hurting and he lashed out. Much like Cory just did. That doesn't matter. I saw his encounters with Cory and while he was extremely upset, he was battling his own demons. But do you see now why I'm concerned about her. Circumstances have just reinforced the guilt that she feels deeply. Please, you have to help her."

"Clearly I need to have this same conversation with Don," she told Cory, sinking on the wall of the pond, opposite her. "I got shot. It wasn't your fault. _I_ was the one who was too good at the research. _I_ was the one who got involved with Sassone. _I_ was the one who alerted Bohr. Cory, the bullet wasn't even supposed to hit me - it was going to hit _Don_. Yet _I_ was the one who stepped in front of it. _I_ am responsible for my own actions."

"But..."

"Just like James is of his," she cut her off.

Cory shook her head. "If I had just looked harder at Bohr, I would have seen that something wasn't right. I had a gut feeling that I ignored."

"And if I never went to that party; if I had never ignored Louie; if I had never spoken to Sassone; if I had never researched the Brooklyn Bullets; if I had never gone to NYU... it's a lot of _if's_, Cory," Taylor told her. "You cannot be holding yourself personally responsible for a series of events." She frowned. Suddenly, the responsibility she had felt for Louie's death shifted. Even Maddy's. "It's not our fault," she muttered, gently.

Cory sank down, feeling some of the guilt lift from her shoulders. "Oh God. I've been a right bitch haven't I? You're right. My head tells me that, but my heart ...my heart still is not convinced. But, I'll work on it. I promise."

She felt numb, but Taylor looked over at James. "Is there anything else?"

"Tell her that I love her. I will always love her, but she shouldn't hold herself back. She will find someone. Tell her she should talk to Michael."

"Who is Michael?" she asked James, curious.

"My twin. He dealt with my death much easier that Cory."

She nodded and quickly relayed the message to Cory. "James is here, if you want to tell him anything," she added as an afterthought.

Cory looked up, tears swimming in her eyes. "I love you, too. Forgive me?"

Taylor looked at the ghost, before looking back at Cory. "He says he has nothing to forgive you for, and don't you forget about that!"

Cory laughed. "I'm sure if I don't, Michael will make sure that I do. Good-bye James. Tu es mon couer."

Taylor watched as James gave her a nod, smiled at Cory, and disappeared.

"I think I need some time alone," Cory muttered. She didn't wait for Taylor to respond, instead, walking away.

Taylor watched as Cory walked away. She genuinely felt bad for dropping that information on her, but if it helped her in the long run, like James said it would, she would be better for it.

However, the little bombshell she had dropped about Flack? Well, that was going to have to be resolved. It explained why he wasn't thrilled at the idea of Taylor seeing Cory, and she could almost sense the reason he was so eager for her to see the ex-FBI agent so quickly was to catch her off guard.

Taylor's eyes narrowed. Finally, she closed them, raking her hand through her hair. This one wasn't going to be easy. She opened her eyes and the smile evaporated. "You have got to be freaking kidding me?" she screeched into the heavens, her arms flying about in exasperation.

* * *

"Is she alright?" Don asked Flack.

Flack shrugged. "Taylor will be fine."

"It's not Taylor I'm talking about," Don told him. Even though they were some distance away, Cory defiantly looked upset.

"Taylor has a message for her," Flack explained. "It's from someone who died."

"Ah, that explains it," Don nodded. They watched the pair for a moment, before he glanced back at Flack, a wry grin on his face. "So, a homicide detective witnesses a homicide on the first day of his vacation?"

Flack shook his head, sighing. "Trust me when I say, that woman attracts more trouble than you could imagine. She also, sadly, has the ability to help out."

"I can relate," Don muttered.

"Girlfriend?"

Don laughed. "That would be easier. Brother."

"Try having a brother and two sisters," Flack returned. "Plus we're fostering. I swear, I dream of being able to sit down and watch hockey in peace."

"Hockey fan?" Don asked, surprised.

Flack nodded. "You?"

"Yeah," Don confirmed. "Though, all I actually used to play baseball…" he trailed off. "I think your girlfriend has just gone nuts."

Flack looked over, spotting Taylor hurling abuse at the stars, and sighed. "So much for a vacation," he mumbled.

* * *

"You said-" Taylor started, angrily.

"Actually, I said I wouldn't disturb you when you were with Riley and Chase," James corrected her.

"But you looked like you were leaving!" Taylor actually wined, stamping her foot.

"I was," he agreed. "But then I saw Rosa here, and I realized I couldn't just leave her to fend for herself when you clearly hadn't noticed her." He pointed to the bullet ridden body of the woman Cory had been talking to only hours earlier.

"I hadn't noticed her, because she hadn't come to see me," Taylor growled at him.

"Taylor, are you alright?" Cory asked, appearing back beside her.

"No," Taylor muttered. "I think I have some information about that woman who got killed today. Rosa."

"You can see Rosa?" Cory asked, surprised.

"Unfortunately," Taylor grumbled. "And now I need to convince the rest of the FBI that I can. I swear I'm going to get committed one day," she sighed, heading back to the field office.


	243. The Ganzfeld-Eppes Experiment

_Hi all! It's been a while, I know, but you must be used my infamous disappearing acts by now, right? For excuses, please see my profile page..._

* * *

**Chapter 242: The Ganzfeld-Eppes Experiment**

"You can see what?" Charlie asked, his tone dry and disbelieving.

"Ghosts," Taylor confirmed. "And right now, I have the ghost of your drive-by shooting victim, Rosa, standing next to me," she told him, omitting the fact that James was still present.

"Ghosts?" Charlie repeated. "Ghosts! I thought it was bad enough when you humored that psychic," he looked over at his brother, rolling his eyes.

"That psychic got it right," Don pointed out.

"Guess work," Charlie grumbled. "As I told you with that 'psychic', there is no scientific evidence to prove the existence of psychic ability, just like there isn't any evidence to prove the existence of ghosts. Don't tell me you believe in ghosts?"

"Oh, and is there any scientific existence to prove that ghosts don't exist?" Taylor shot at him.

"Can't you just tell him something that only he would know?" Cory asked her. "Like James did with you," she added in a low voice.

Taylor glanced over at James. As he shrugged at her, she sighed. "I can't see the past and I can't see the future – I see ghosts. Most of the time, the ghost can barely string a simple sentence together, never mind start spouting facts about people they've never met. Rosa is new. She's too in shock," she explained, trying to keep her cool.

"Taylor, let me," Cory told her, placing her hand gently on her arm. "Charlie, what is a ghost?"

"A by-product over an over-worked imagination," Charlie replied.

"Okay, by _definition_, what is a ghost?" Cory asked again, her tone remaining patient.

It was his brother who answered. "A paranormal phenomenon."

Taylor watched patiently, wondering where Cory was heading with this.

"And, by definition, what is paranormal?"

"Something that is beyond the range of normal experience." This time it was Agent Sinclair who responded.

"Or scientific explanation," Cory agreed. "So surely, by definition the paranormal does not conform to conventional expectations of the natural? Therefore, a phenomenon cannot be confirmed as paranormal using the scientific method because, if it was, it would no longer fit the definition," Cory asked, looking at Charlie.

Taylor blinked as Cory's question went over her head. She glanced around the room. Flack look puzzled, as did Agent Granger, but the other occupants of the small briefing room seemed to understand what she was saying.

There was a large silence that seemed to fill the room as everyone waited to see what Charlie would say. Finally he nodded at Cory. "An interesting argument. However, there is a test."

"There's a test to say if I actually see ghosts?" Taylor repeated, surprised. "Really?" She suddenly beamed. "Please tell me it comes with a certificate or something, because passing it would make my life easier."

Charlie frowned. "You think you will pass?"

"I see ghosts," Taylor told him, shooting him a look that said _duh_. "Of course I will pass. What does it involve…?" she trailed off as she spotted James shaking his head from the corner of her eye. Ignoring the detailed explanation that Charlie was giving her, she focused her attention on Rosa. Her lips were moving. "Shhh!" she hushed Charlie, stepping past him and over to where Rosa was standing. Behind her, Charlie was beginning an outraged speech and Taylor turned back to him with a glare. "Just be quiet a minute."

"Ghost Town," she finally heard Rosa whisper after Charlie had turned silent.

Taylor sighed. "Really?" she asked, sparing a glance at James. "Really? We have one night to solve this, and you're giving me _that_?"

Flack's hand found her shoulder and she couldn't help but duck away from it. "Ghost Town," she announced, trying to cover her movements.

"Ghost Town?" Charlie repeated, looking less than impressed.

Taylor nodded, moving away from Flack, trying to keep the action as casual as possible. "Look, the clues I get – they're not always easy to decipher. Like this. Just be glad it wasn't a toothbrush – because I've had that before."

"The ghost told you that?" he asked, still skeptical.

Taylor nodded, her face falling into her frown. "Actually, that's quite vocal. Normally it's _You have to stop him_, or something similar. You're lucky." She looked hopefully at the agents. "So, does Ghost Town mean anything to you?"

"Isn't it a film?" Granger shrugged.

"It's a song by The Specials," Don suggested.

Taylor sighed as the smug smile grew on Charlie's face. "There's got to be something else to it," she mumbled, reaching for her phone. "If in doubt, Google it."

"Ghost Town," Sinclair spoke up. "That's another name for Oakland."

Taylor's head snapped up. "Then we need to go to Oakland."

"Because the shooter is there?" Don asked.

At the same time, Flack shook his head. "You're not going anywhere, Taylor."

"But-" Taylor started to protest, but she was cut off by Cory.

"No," Cory told her. "You are not leaving this building under any circumstance unless it involves something that isn't related to the shooting. Let the guys with the guns go."

"I have to go," Taylor told her. "It's taken me months to be able to decipher the clues. You guys won't stand a chance."

"I'll go with them," Flack sighed.

Taylor bit her lip, her gaze falling to the floor. It was the perfect opportunity to avoid any conversation she wasn't ready for, but, "What am I going to do?"

"Prove the existence of ghosts?" Charlie suggested, a slight hint of sarcasm to his tone.

Agent Eppes cleared his throat. "David, you head follow up on the witness statements. Cory, I would like you to work with Liz and see if we can work out what friends Ignacio has in LA – who would help him."

"Um, who's Ignacio?" Taylor asked.

"You're the psychic," Charlie muttered.

Taylor growled. "I am not a psychic," she told him.

"Ignacio is," Cory frowned. "_Was _Rosa's boyfriend. She gave financial information incriminating him in a drug bust seven years ago when she discovered she was pregnant. She went into witness protection, moving to LA. As soon as I heard Ignacio had broken his parole agreement I knew he had come here. I wanted to warn her – get her moved."

"She has a kid?" Taylor asked, eyes widening. "What's going to happen to him now?"

"DSS have him," Liz told her with a sad smile. "As far as we know he doesn't have any family."

Taylor slumped back against the table with a sigh. "Oh."

"We're assuming that Rosa was the target," Agent Granger point out. "It could be Cory. It could have been anyone in that bar."

Don nodded. "Colby is right. Charlie, can you work your magic and find out if bullet trajectories add up?"

Charlie shook his head. "I am going to disprove the existence of ghosts, but," he added quickly. "I will give Amita a call and get her to run the equation."

"Equation?" Flack asked, his forehead furrowing.

"That's my brother, mathematical genius," Don grinned, slapping Flack on the back. "Trust me, it'll work. You and me, we should head over to Oakland." He gave the team a nod. As Cory disappeared with Liz behind David, he looked over at Taylor. "Don't worry, Colby and I will look after him. You just let us know if your ghost gives us anything else to go on."

"There are no such thing as ghosts!" Charlie called after them, leaving him and Taylor alone in the briefing room.

Taylor settled into a chair, crossed her legs set her hands in her lap, and stared up at him. "So, genius, what does this test involve, because I'm on a tight schedule."

. . .

"You said you had a clairsentient?" A male voice asked Charlie outside the room Taylor was sitting in.

"I have a woman who thinks she can see ghosts," Charlie retorted.

"A medium," the voice corrected himself.

"A fraud," she heard Charlie mutter.

With a roll of her eyes, Taylor scraped her chair back and stood, walking to the door. "I do see ghosts, Charlie," she told him, while inspecting the newcomer.

Whereas Charlie was probably around the same age as she was, this man was older – older than the other agents she had met – though maybe only in his late forties, early fifties. He was wearing a patterned shirt that seemed out of place in the FBI building… and he was only wearing socks. He stated at her thoughtfully and turned to Charlie. "The Ganzfeld Experiment?"

Charlie's eyes fell to the bag over his shoulder, before dropping further to his feet. "Larry, where are your shoes?"

Larry looked down, surprised. "Oh, I'm not wearing shoes?"

Charlie shook his head with a sigh, and unlike Larry, wasn't entirely surprised at Larry's actions. "Larry, this is Taylor. Taylor, Larry."

"What's a Ganzfeld Experiment?" Taylor asked, giving Larry a quick finger wave. "Because it sounds painful."

"It doesn't hurt," Larry told her, the thoughtful expression remaining on his face. "Ghosts, eh?"

Charlie walked back into the room and indicated to the chair in the front of it. "Normally, this would take place in a more controlled environment, but as you're not allowed to leave here, we're improvising."

Taylor sat down in the chair and stared up at him. "Fine, but you're really not explaining this to me very well. What do I have to do?"

"We're going to place you into a mild state of sensory deprivation-"

"I beg your pardon?" Taylor cried, jerking out of the seat to glare at the mathematical genius.

Charlie sighed. "I'm going to stick a blindfold on you and play white noise so you can't see or hear anything."

Taylor's eyes narrowed. "And how do you expect me to talk to the ghost if I can't hear what is being said, or attempt to read lips. I. Am. Not. A. Psychic."

"I think we need to adapt this experiment a little further," Larry said, perching on the small table in the corner of the room. He had paused in his activities – producing a laptop from the bag and attaching small wires to it. Without further explanation he disappeared from the room.

"He does that often?" Taylor asked, her head cocked at an angle as she stared after the odd little man.

"Yeah," Charlie admitted, his response almost hidden behind the long drawn out sigh.

Taylor chewed on her lip as she walked over to the half set up laptop and peered at the display. "Okay, why, exactly, is this here?" she asked, gesturing to the equipment.

"There are supposed to be a couple of cameras hooked up to that," Charlie explained joining her side. He reached down and pulled two small HD video cameras from the bag, holding them up for Taylor to see. "To record the results. There would be one pointed at you, one at Larry."

"And what would Larry be doing?" Taylor asked, warily.

"Oh," Charlie replied. "He would have been looking at various objects, and your 'ghost' would let you know what they are. The purpose of the Ganzfeld Experiment is to test your level of extrasensory perception."

Taylor's eyebrows knotted together. "Extrasensory perception?" she repeated slowly. "ESP?"

Charlie nodded, turning his attention to the bag and pulling out a tripod. "Exactly," he agreed, setting it up a few feet from the chair he had settled Taylor in earlier.

"Charlie, I'm not a psychic," Taylor groaned. "You're going to make me do a test I can't possibly pass."

"I hear what you're saying," Charlie noted, moving on to the next camera. "But, I have 20/20 vision, and perfect hearing yet I can't see nor hear ghosts. Which means that you are either making this up or you apparently have a sixth sense. And I intend on proving the former."

Larry chose that moment to appear in the doorway, dragging a large room divider with him. Seeing him struggle, Taylor moved over to help him. "Over there," he told her, pointing to just in front of her chair. Taylor did as he said. It was heavier than it looked and Taylor was slightly impressed the smaller man managed to get it as far as he had.

"Larry, what's this for?" Charlie asked, hurriedly moving the camera wires out of the way.

"If we can't use extrasensory deprivation, then we can at least create a barrier between myself and the subject," Larry explained.

"Look, I am not a mouse so please don't treat me like one," Taylor huffed, taking a seat. "And I am also doing this voluntarily, so don't forget that"

Larry moved behind the screen and Taylor could hear him moving things around as Charlie checked the camera wires. "Alright," Charlie called eventually. "Will you state your name for the tape?"

"What are you on about?" Taylor asked in surprise. "I'm not under arrest you know." As Charlie let out an impatient sigh, Taylor planted a false smile on her face and beamed at the camera. "Hi, my name is Taylor Turner. I'm 29 years old, love the Lakers, and I'm an Aquarius, which means I like doing my own thing and being different, and I can also be a tad stubborn."

Charlie's head appeared around the divide. "Oh, so you believe in astrology too."

Taylor shrugged. "I read my star sign, if that's what you mean?"

Charlie exhaled a very long and drawn out sigh. "Currently, there are approximately six billion, nine hundred million people on the planet. That's five hundred, seventy-five million people per star sign, and you think, that you are the one in five hundred, seventy five million that your daily reading applies to?"

"What can I say?" Taylor asked, grinning. "I'm a tad stubborn."

"There's actually a thirteenth star sign," Larry piped up. "Ophiuchus, the serpent holder. In approximately 40,000 years _Voyager 1_ probe will pass within 1.6 light years of the star AC+79 3888, which is located in Ophiuchus."

"Larry is a physicist and cosmetologist," Charlie explained at Taylor's blank expression. "Let's just continue with the experiment," Charlie muttered when Taylor didn't look as impressed at the statement as he expected her to. "Dr Fleinhardt will now examine a set of objects, and via your ghost, I would like you to tell the camera what they are. Understand?"

Taylor rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yeah." Much to Taylor's surprise, James and Rosa appeared, the room temperature dropping. "You gonna help me out on this?" she asked James.

James poked his head around the screen, then came back shaking it. "Oh, you're on your own on this one."

"Well that's just marvelous," Taylor muttered. "You know, you owe me one."

"True," James agreed. "But I also know that helping you will finish this test quicker, and thus you will be tempted to go wandering LA. Alone. I also happen to know that Cory doesn't want this – she wants you to stay safe here."

"So, what? Cory is more important than me?" Taylor asked, pouting.

James laughed. "Every time, Taylor. Every time."

"Figures," Taylor grumbled, although she wasn't surprise. He'd already proven he was loyal, even in death. "And what about you, Rosa?"

Rosa's lips remained closed. However, the ground below her seemed to change, and appearing from nowhere, she was standing in the middle of a boat, the tiled floor acting like the water.

Taylor looked over at Charlie. He had seated himself in line with the screen so he could see both Larry and the computer, and Taylor. He was also watching Taylor expectantly.

"Help me," Rosa whispered.

Taylor's eyes widened. "A boat."

"Ha!" Charlie cried, leaping to his feet. "No."

"No," Taylor disagreed. "You need to call Don."

"To tell him he's wasting his time?" Charlie asked, his eyes glinting happily.

"Not your Don. _My_ Don," Taylor told him, fighting to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

Charlie looked momentarily confused. "I don't know his number."

Taylor glared at him. "Well, if you hadn't taken my cell phone away-"

"I couldn't risk you cheating," Charlie explained.

"What was I going to do?" Taylor shot back at him. "Google the answers?"

"That wouldn't have helped you," Larry's voice floated over the divide.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Look, call your Don, and tell him to put my Don on. The boat is a clue."

. . .

There was a low groan from the back seat of the Escalade as Colby stretched his legs out. "You alright?" Agent Eppes asked from the driver's seat.

The groan turned into a sigh. "Just not much room back here."

"Suck it up, Granger," Don told him. "The guest gets the front seat."

"We can swap if you want?" Flack offered.

"It's not that," Colby quickly told him. "It's just, we've been driving around for a while now, and we don't even know what we're looking for."

Flack shook his head. "You won't, and then Taylor will call with something else, and it will be obvious."

"You do this a lot?" Don asked him, sparing him half a glance before he turned a corner.

Flack nodded, his eyes scanning the street they were driving along. "Just over two years, although I guess the first year, I was very reluctant to believe there were ghosts. I thought Taylor was hot, but I also thought she was a little insane."

"And you don't now?" Colby asked.

"No, I still think she's hot and a little insane," Flack told him. "But I also believe her. She has a big heart and she genuinely wants to help. You'll see." He pulled his eyes away from outside the window and turn in his chair to look at Colby. "You believe in ghosts?"

Colby shrugged. "Never really given it much thought. Haunted houses, maybe, but ghosts communicating with people to solve homicides? I'm not sure if I can stretch to that. Sorry, man"

"It's alright. I didn't believe in them either." He settled back in his chair, looking at Don. "And what about you? You seem a little more receptive than your brother."

Don glanced at Flack and let out a very deep sigh. "I don't believe in turning down help."

"But?" Flack asked, his curiosity piqued.

Don's hand found its way to his hair. "My faith tells me that the soul maintains a connection with the body for a year after death. It also tells me that it is wrong to conjure or control spirits, and that any attempts to contact the dead may lead to unwanted contact with a demon or an unclean spirit."

Flack's lips began to arch upwards. "So, do you believe in ghosts?"

There was another drawn out sigh. "I don't know," Don admitted. From within his pocket, his cell phone began to ring. With his eyes never leaving the road, he pulled his phone from his pocket and flicked it open. "Eppes… Hi Charlie… One second." He pulled the phone from his ear and glanced down, hitting a button. "Alright, you're on speaker phone."

_"Apparently the ghost whisperer is seeing boats_," his tone was dry and unamused.

_"Not boats, _a _boat,"_ Taylor's voice could be heard faintly in the background.

"Oakland doesn't have boats," Don told his brother, after receiving shrugged responses from Flack and Colby.

_"Get back in that chair!" _Charlie suddenly hollered.

_Will you relax – I am not cheating, see,_" Taylor snapped. _"Just give me the phone and let me talk to them."_ There was the sound of a small struggle and then Taylor's voice came through the phone clearly. _"Hi, it's a boat."_

"Tay, there's no harbor in sight," Flack told her patiently. "Streets and houses and cars."

_"Oh my!" _Taylor responded._ "I said boat, not a ship. One of those flat ones._"

"A flat one?" Flack repeated, trying to keep the grin from his face and failing miserably. "You wouldn't think her father was a captain in the navy," he told Don and Colby in a low voice.

_"I heard that Don. Next time, try sign language. And he's an admiral, not a captain anymore. Not that that's the point. He spent months away at a time and the only time I went on his ship was fleet week. The best I can do is identify an aircraft carrier or a battleship, or a frigate, or a gun boat, or-"_

"We get the picture, Taylor," Flack sighed.

_"It's one of those flat boats," _Taylor tried again. _"You know, there's usually a couple in them, with a guy and a pole at the back."_

"A guy and a pole?" Colby repeated. "You mean a gondola?"

_"Yes!"_ Taylor exclaimed.

Flack sighed again. "Taylor, that doesn't make any more sense."

"Actually, it does," Don corrected him. "She's talking about Venice. We're not far from there."

There was the sound of another scuffle on the other end of the phone and Charlie came back on. "_Right, can we get on with this experiment?_"

"Knock yourself out," Flack chuckled before Don hung up. Thankfully, the road was empty as Don did a one-eighty and turned the car back in the direction they had come from.

They were a few blocks away from the canals when Flack spotted something down one of the side roads. "Back up," he told Don.

Don did as he said. All three sets of eyes staring out the right side of the SUV spotted what Flack had simultaneously. Down the street, two shadowed figures were hovering around a car. And the street exploded into light as one of the figures set the car on fire. Don pointed the SUV down the street, flicking on the lights and sirens.

Before they got close, the two shadows had bolted. The SUV squealed to a halt, Don already barking orders into his phone as he and Flack charged after one of the suspects, Granger taking the other.

"Where did he go?" Don asked, skidding to a stop next to Flack as they reached a t-junction.

Flack looked back and forth, eyes scanning the dim light for a trace of a clue. Suddenly, he saw it. "There," he cried, pointing at the outline of a man running down the narrow path by the side of the canal. The two took off after him, crossing over one of the decorative bridges, their feet sending echoes out across the water.

Just as the running was starting to make his lungs burn, Flack slowed. They had cornered the suspect. Two sides were blocked by a six foot high fence, some form of dog barking madly behind. To the other side was the slow moving water of the canal.

"FBI!" Don yelled at him, his gun aimed at him. "You're under arre-" he stopped as the suspect, a panicked look in his eye, moved towards the canal, eyeing the other side of the bank, only fifteen feet or so away, crouching into a position that suggested he was going to dive. "Don't even think about it," Don warned him.

He dove. Don swore. Flack ran over to the bank, confused. Moments later, the man floated to the surface, face down in the water.

"What the hell?" Flack asked, staring out at the limp body.

"They're three feet deep at best," Don explained, joining Flack's side. He glanced over at Flack.

Flack's hands flew into the air. "Don't look at me, I'm just visiting."

"I lost him!" Colby called behind them, his running slowing to a jog as he saw the two Don's staring at the floating body.

"Perfect timing," Don greeted him.

* * *

_AmaranteX - I guess because I keep taking enormous breaks from updating. And I have a mind that doesn't switch off! But I'm so happy you've been enjoying it!_

_19irene96 - Here's an update for you... (Let's just pretend it didn't take forever?)_

_meadow567 - ... I'm not even close to 'soon', am I?_

_xSamiliciousx - Thank you!_

_beba78 - You know, I've just looked at the dates - you've had to wait over a year... sorry!_

_Angel N Darkness - Aw, thank you! I'm sorry the update took so long (:s)_

_Lydiann Biohazard - Thank you for reading, and please pass on the thanks for the recommendation! I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far!_

_sparkyCSI - I can't believe I am writing this, but you will be getting a beta request sooner than I expected!_


	244. Occam's Razor

___10/12/12_

___Credit and thanks must go to my beta sparkyCSI for lending me Cory, and also for helping with this chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 243: Occam's Razor**

Charlie's expression was unreadable as he listened to his brother on the other end of the phone. Taylor watched him, trying not to appear smug. She couldn't blame him – she was only too aware of how much some people needed the evidence, but there was something deeply satisfying when she was able to prove her point.

"Good news?" she asked innocently as Charlie hung up, slipping the phone into his pocket.

"They found the car," he told her. "It was set on fire, so it's debatable if they will find any forensic evidence."

"And where did they find it?"

"Venice," Charlie responded, shortly.

"Venice, as in gondolas?" Taylor grinned.

"They were in Oakwood, which isn't far from Venice," Charlie responded, looking less than impressed.

Taylor wet her lips in an attempt not to get angry with him. "And they were in Oakwood because a ghost told them to go there."

"Taylor, you're from San Diego. It's a stone's throw away-"

"125 miles," Larry piped up, reminding Taylor that there was a third person in the room.

Taylor settled back into the chair. "Fine. You need more proof. I get that."

Charlie nodded, taking his seat. "You still need to tell me what Larry is holding."

Taylor yawned. "Charlie, it is four am. Yesterday I was in New York. I need some sleep. Can this wait until tomorrow? Please?"

Charlie examined his watch and nodded his head. "I have a nine am lecture. Can you be here for eleven?

. . .

"I came prepared," Taylor announced, walking into the room that was still set up for the experiment Charlie was trying to perform. She held up a large bottle of water and a copy of US Weekly.

"You can't read that," Charlie spluttered.

"Why not?" Taylor asked, glancing down at the cover. "Because I am seriously behind on my celebrity gossip. Did you know that Reese Witherspoon had split with Ryan Phillipe, because I never saw that one coming?"

"You can't read during the experiment," Charlie repeated, taking the magazine from Taylor.

"And I can't guarantee that a ghost is going to appear," Taylor returned. "Do you have a time limit on this?"

"The original Ganzfeld Experiment was only supposed to take a half hour," Larry announced, suddenly materializing into the room.

Taylor burst out laughing and snatched her magazine back. "We sat in here for five hours last night. Clearly you don't have a time limit."

"You implied that ghosts won't come when summoned," Larry told her. "And we have also been told to keep you busy so you don't go wandering into trouble."

"Oh, I'm sure," Taylor muttered as Charlie hissed a reprimand at Larry. Apparently she wasn't supposed to know that. She headed straight for the chair and kicked her sandals off, curling her legs up beneath her. "I'll let you know when a ghost appears," she informed the two men, barely taking her eyes from the magazine.

"And how will you know they're 'here' if you're not looking for them?" Charlie asked her.

"That's why I'm not wearing a sweater," Taylor shrugged, flicking the page. "The goose pimples will tell me there's a ghost in the room."

"The what?" Charlie asked, surprised.

"Goose pimples," Taylor repeated, flicking her eyes up, surprised to see that he too was surprised.

"Cutis anserina," Larry interjected. "Where the skin at the –"

"I know what goose pimples are, Larry," Charlie cut him off. "I just don't see how they can be used with ghost hunting."

"We're not ghost _hunting_," Taylor told him. "And surely you've noticed that the temperature dips when there's a ghost about?"

"I, uh, no," Charlie quickly shook his head.

"Why don't you try getting some thermometers in here," Taylor suggested, dropping her attention back to the magazine. "Might help my case."

Charlie shared a look with Larry. "Can't hurt," Larry told him.

"I'll call Amita," Charlie sighed.

. . .

Cory was working on her fifth cup of coffee and still she hadn't found anything. She knew that her contacts would have to take time to investigate any possible connections to Ignacio, but she hated downtime. Especially since she had so much on her mind. It still hurt to think of James, but the hurt was somewhat lessoned by what Taylor had told her. The fact that James was a ghost had not surprised her, since she had felt him around her consistently from the time he died. Some days, the presence was comforting, usually when she'd had a bad day, but she still blamed herself for his death.

"Cory?" Liz asked her. "Are you okay?"

Cory broke herself out of her thoughts and turned her dark-haired former colleague. "Yeah, just tired."

Liz raised an eyebrow. "Don't give me that, Cory. I know you. We worked together for too long to buy that."

Cory sighed for settling back in her chair. "I just got some unexpected news and it's brought back a lot of memories. Not particularly happy memories."

"Does it have anything to do with Taylor?" Liz asked shrewdly. "I seem to remember her from New York."

"Yes and no. Yes because it reminds me of why I left the Bureau, but no the memories are not of that. They are of Dallas and how much my life has changed since then."

Liz looked at her, putting the facts together. "James," she concluded with some sorrow. When she had first gone to New York and was assigned to Cory's team she was thrilled. She knew that the woman had a hard reputation ever since her fiancé had been killed, but one night after a particularly hard arrest they had gotten drunk together and Cory had poured out the whole story. Her heart had clenched at the wretched way she had lost the love of her life and she knew that even now, Cory was not dealing with that lost.

"Yeah," Cory returned. "Taylor just finally managed to get it through to my head that I am not responsible for his death. I just don't know what to do. I've always wanted to be a cop and not being one is hard. I feel like I have no purpose in life."

Liz settled back, setting her own cup of coffee aside. "Why not apply somewhere else? Surely any local P.D. would be ecstatic to have you. You are a great cop, Cory," she tried to reassure her.

"Yeah, with my record? What happened in Dallas could have been a fluke, but I managed to have a gang member on my payroll in New York? No one is going to ignore that," Cory concluded somberly.

Liz sighed, she remembered how tough the New York office had been for her. Everywhere there were pitfalls and she blamed it on the chauvinistic head agent of that field office. He somehow believed that just because you were a woman, you were a lesser agent. "Look, the New York office is just messed up. You could always apply here. I know that Don would be fortunate to have you."

Cory smiled. "Thanks for that, but I'm done with the Bureau," she responded as she looked off into space. "Maybe I can try to become a spook."

Liz chuckled. "Somehow, I can not picture you as part of the C.I.A., Cory. But, if it's what you want to do, then do it."

Cory grinned back as her phone rang. "Reid," she answered automatically as she listened to the person on the other end of the line, a smile spreading across her face. "Thanks, Ben. I am forever in your debt."

Liz looked at her expectantly. "I take it we have news?"

Cory nodded. "And a possible connection to L.A. We should got let everyone else know."

. . .

It had been a slow morning, the hours ebbing into afternoon. Taylor was only slightly bored now. She'd finished her magazine an hour ago and had spent the time watching Charlie. His wife has appeared just before lunch, bringing some sandwiches with the thermometers, but had left to finish some form of equation – apparently, she was also a genius.

Charlie had taken to doing something that was also mathematically related, but for all Taylor could tell, he was trying to work out warp speed as his doodles on the room's whiteboard made no sense to her. Hell, she was fairly certain Hawkes or Mac wouldn't be able to understand that stuff.

Larry, well, he was still behind the screen doing goodness knows what. His hand had appeared at one point to acquire a sandwich, but for all Taylor knew, he could have curled up into a ball and taken a nap.

So far they had heard nothing from the FBI agents, and nothing from the ghosts. Taylor was also ashamed to admit that she was relieved that Flack hadn't checked in. What Cory had admitted had really done a number on her. She'd tried to bring it up as they curled up in bed, but Flack had fallen asleep almost instantly – there had been mutterings of _even in LA they still run_, and then the snores had set in.

"You know, you still haven't told me what Larry has with him behind that screen," Charlie told her, as if sensing she was watching him. He looked up, nodding – confirming to himself that he had been right. "You're failing this test."

"And I still need a ghost to appear," Taylor told him. "Because I can't attempt to take your test if I don't have all the right tools."

"Did you just call me a tool?" James asked, as he and Rosa appeared again, the room temperature dropping slightly.

"If the shoe fits," Taylor responded lightly.

"Hey!" James objected, taking a couple of steps towards her. "What have I done?"

"Nothing," Taylor returned, fixing him a glare. "That's the point. You were supposed to be moving on to that great farm in the sky and I was supposed to be enjoying a weekend vacation."

"What are you talking about?" Charlie asked her, giving her a confused look.

"You lucked in," Taylor told him, dryly. "The ghosts appeared."

"And are any of them telling you what Larry has in his hands?" he asked her, the familiar skeptical look back.

Taylor stared at the two ghosts expectantly.

"I'm not here to play games," James told her, rolling his eyes. "I'm a tool, remember."

"Yes, yes you are," Taylor grumbled, turning her attention to Rosa. Only Rosa did something that she left both Taylor and James' mouths hanging open. When Rosa had been shot, she had been wearing a pretty white dress with flowers embroidered along the hemline. Taylor had been doing her best to ignore the four bullet holes that were still clearly staining the dress. And as Rosa undid the straps, allowing it to fall to the floor, they were clearly marking her stomach.

Taylor stared, mouth open at the woman who stood before her, only wearing a pair of panties. "Stop staring!" she hissed at James. "You have a fiancé, and I don't care if she's still alive."

"What?" Charlie asked, alarmed.

"I, uh…" Taylor stalled as Rosa turned, giving her a clear view of her back. A back which had a very interesting collage of tattoos across it. "I need a pencil and a piece of paper," she quickly told the mathematician.

"You really don't need to draw the item," Charlie told her, glancing at the apple Larry was holding.

"Oh, I really do," Taylor mumbled.

. . .

"Ignacio had two cell mates during his stay in the Beaumont Correction Complex," Cory quickly filled the room in. "And both have connections in LA."

Don, Flack and Colby had returned to the office minutes ago, to be met by Cory and Liz who had had a little success in the research department.

"I'm going to need a vacation to recover from this vacation," Flack groaned stretching out. "Because I sense that these connections are not going to be nice and friendly, law-abiding citizens," he muttered, addressing Liz.

Cory wet her lips, consciously ignoring the dig that Flack was making at her, and instead of responding with a similar level of maturity involving addressing Don instead, she looked him straight in his deep blue eyes and nodded. "Your senses are spot on," she told him. "One is a member of the Aztec Knights, the other Blood Kings."

"Charming," Colby muttered. "The Feudal system hits the gangs."

Don, who was pacing at the head of the table, glanced over at Cory. "Any clue as to which is likelier?"

"I think we might need to get the Charlie to have a look at this one," Liz started, and trailed off at the loud voices echoing down the corridor.

"Will you relax?" came Taylor's voice. "I wasn't peeking, I didn't see what the odd little man was doing behind the screen – where the hell am I going? – and we can continue with this boring test after, however-"

"I'm going to have to change the items," Charlie was saying. "I can't risk that you've seen them. And how on earth is a couple of stick men going to find a shooter? It was easier to see something in Picasso's work."

"I might not be an artist, but my sketches make more sense than the random letters and numbers on your notepad," Taylor retorted. She appeared in the doorway, her eyes rolling. "Here you are," she sighed, pushing the pad in Cory's direction.

Cory looked down at the image in front of her, trying not to pull a face as she tried to work out what exactly it was. "Thanks, Taylor, but um," she tilted the notebook slightly. "How are fourteen hills, a circus tent and a river going to help us?"

"Circus tent and a river?" Liz repeated, stretching over to examine the sketch. "Looks like the pyramids and the Nile to me."

"Really?" Colby asked, confused. He was squinting at the drawing, his head cocked. "I see a dead worm in a party hat."

"A worm?" Taylor replied, snatching the paper back. "It's a snake, with a helmet thingy, and those _hills_ are gravestones!" Taylor objected, pointing out the parts she was referring to, marginally offended at the fact no one could tell that.

"If you say so," Charlie muttered, pulling a face at his brother.

"Okay, it's a snake and some gravestones," Don agreed, keeping his face neutral. "The relevance is?"

Taylor rolled her eyes, placing the drawing on the table. "That was the unpleasant image that just greeted me," she told them.

"So now you're having visions?" Charlie asked her, dryly.

"No, doofas," Taylor groaned. "It's a tattoo, and unless Rosa has a mural on her back, my best guess is it is the shooter."

"You know, I think that's the first time I've heard Charlie be called a doofas," Liz noted, sharing a grin with Colby.

"Really?" Taylor asked, her eyebrows arched in surprise. "That surprises me." She pushed the drawing back in Cory's direction. "Imagine that as a tattoo on the back of a guy."

"Really use your imagination," Charlie added.

"I'm thinking gang tat. Does it look familiar?"

Cory stared at the paper, her brows burrowed in concentration. Suddenly her eyes widened. "Of course it does. The snake is the marking of an Aztec Knight. The tombstones represent the number people that he's killed. I can't believe I didn't see that."

"I can," Charlie assured her, patting her shoulder. "It's easy to confuse it with the work of a six year old."

Taylor, showing her level of maturity, poked her tongue out at the curly haired man. The she turned back to Cory. "Do you think you can narrow it down?" she asked her.

Cory quickly nodded. "I should be able to, thanks. You can get back to your experiment now, if you want?"

Taylor glanced around and seeing a lack of anyone suggesting that she stay and help, she shrugged. "Why not? I'm sure I've got a bottle of nail polish in my purse somewhere." She turned on her heel, striding out the door with Charlie hurrying after her, crying _it's an experiment, not an afternoon in a day spa!_

"You really think you can narrow _that_ down to a person?" Colby asked, flicking the drawing he was now holding. He turned it upside down, holding it away from him. "I still think it looks like a dead worm."

. . .

Taylor was trapped. _Alright_, she admitted. _Not trapped – just bored._ Despite Charlie's initial protests, she had slipped her feet out of her sandals and painted her nails a teal, the same color as her top. Then she had moved onto her finger nails. She'd even offered to do Charlie's. (That hadn't been received very well).

It was now dark out and she hadn't heard anything from Rosa, or from the living people trying to find her killer. Amita had appeared again with some Chinese takeaway and disappeared just as quickly as she had plans to play chess with Charlie's dad.

"If they weren't already dead, I would kill them all over again," Taylor muttered, causing Charlie to look over.

"I'm sorry?"

Taylor sighed, shifting in the chair to get more comfortable. "I'm in LA for Fleet Week. I'm supposed to be spending time with my dad, not stuck in an eleventh story room, testing my patience. Next time a ghost asks, I'm going to say no."

"They ask?" Charlie asked, his curiosity piqued.

Taylor quickly shook her head. "No, normally they just appear. The dead don't do vacations." She paused in her explanation as Flack entered the room, followed by Don. "What's the matter?" she asked at the same time as Charlie.

"We found the owner of the tattoo," Don explained.

"Well that's good news," Taylor started. She frowned, watching the two Dons. "That's not good news?"

Don sighed. "We have no evidence to tie him to the shooting or the car. David looked through the CCTV and the only thing we can confirm is that the car drove up and down the street a couple of times before driving off – you can't see the driver."

"We were wondering if Rosa had offered something else to you?" Flack asked her.

"Don't you think I would have been down with it if she had?" Taylor snapped at him. She blinked. "Sorry. No, she hasn't." She got up off the chair and glared around the room. "And I've had enough of this. Rosa, get your ghostly ass here."

"I thought they didn't come when called," Charlie asked, his tone once again dry.

"They don't, but I have two fifteen year olds who are going to get me up at the crack of dawn tomorrow to go to Universal Studios. She has two hours before I want to be in bed, so Rosa!"

She appeared, James in tow. "Moody much?" he asked.

"Do not make me find the janitor's closet and borrow their vacuum cleaner. Because I will," Taylor warned him. She moved her attention to Rosa. "Right, here's the deal. You're dead. We have the guy in custody, but no evidence. You want him to walk, then you keep quiet," she told her as their eyes locked.

Rosa broke away first and turned, walking to the door, and then through it. "We are going on a walk," Taylor told them, forgetting about her shoes as she hurried after her. Rosa led her to the stairs and down into the basement.

"You can't go in there without clearance," Don called after her as Taylor made to open a door Rosa had just walked through.

"So give me clearance," Taylor shrugged. "I won't touch anything."

Don frowned, glancing at Flack. "She won't," he agreed. "She's usually pretty good at that."

"And yet you use the word _usually_," he muttered, stepping forward to punch in the six digit security code to the door.

The room seemed to contain evidence – close to them, what was left of the burned out car after the fire department had rescued it, busy being processed.

"You don't even let _me_ in here," Charlie cried, appearing behind them.

Taylor ignored him, and the lab rats who had turned to stare at the arrivals. Instead she edged towards the car, trying to work out what Rosa was pointing to. Quickly, she scrapped her hair back into a ponytail and reached for a pair of gloves.

The lab rats, who had started protesting, fell silent at Don's assurance that it was alright and Taylor wasn't going to remove anything from the car. Taylor opened the driver's side door. Rosa had seated herself in the passenger seat and was pointing at the gas pedal. Silently, Taylor dropped to her knees, peering into the burnt out area. "Gum," she announced, her head popping back up.

A guy in an overall moved in, reaching under the pedal and pulled the offending item out. "Gum," he confirmed.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Oh, for goodness sake. They would have found that eventually. You can't believe that the ghost told her that?" he asked his brother.

Don shrugged, staring at the gum. "Regardless, she found it before they did."

. . .

It was midnight and Taylor was back in the 'experiment' room, staring up and counting the tiles in the ceiling. The temperature dropped a couple of degrees, causing her to look down. A small smile spread across her lips as she realized that bother James and Rosa were dressed in white, peaceful looks their face.

"Thank you," Rosa told her. "I am sorry that I spoiled your vacation."

"I've still got tomorrow," Taylor shrugged. "I take it the guy confessed?"

Rosa nodded. "You're going to get told in a couple of minutes – they're on their way up. I just wanted to say thank you first. And we wanted to give you something as a thank you present," she added, glancing up at James.

Taylor's smile grew into a grin as she sat back and listened. With a final wave, Rosa disappeared. "And what about you?" Taylor asked James. "Are you really going?"

James nodded. "I really am. I'm going to go and wait for Cory. Thank you, Taylor. I really appreciated it."

"No problem," Taylor told him as she realized that Charlie was looking between her and his computer screen, disbelief and denial in his eyes.

"Oh, Taylor," James called as he started to fade away. "When he asks, tell him Occam's Razor." And then he was gone.

"The temperature dipped," Charlie told her, his voice accusatory as the door opened and Flack and Don entered.

"As soon as we showed him the gum, he confessed," Don announced. "Thank you, Taylor."

"Oh, come on!" Charlie objected. "You would have found that eventually, and then you would have linked the DNA to the suspects."

"But Taylor did make it happen much more quickly," Larry announced, appearing from behind the screen and causing Don and Flack to jump.

"That's Larry," Taylor told Flack, who was eyeing him suspiciously. "He's been helping with the experiment."

"And experiment that you have failed," Charlie pointed out. "You haven't managed to name a single object that Larry's had."

"No, I suppose I haven't," Taylor shrugged.

Flack watched her. It was only small, but there was the beginning of a smile creeping into her eyes. "Oh, this is going to be good," he whispered to Don, who gave him a confused look.

"Did the temperature drop just now?" she asked Charlie, gathering her belongings together.

"That doesn't prove anything," Charlie replied. "It could have been a dip in the air conditioning output."

Taylor shrugged again, and turned to Larry. "It was nice hiding from you behind a screen," she told him. "Make sure that when you put the shoe, egg, spanner, pen, mug and paperclip in the bag, that they don't break the calculator, feather, empty Fanta can, hammer or the photo frame containing a picture of Albert Einstein that has been Photoshopped onto a picture of the NGC 441…" she frowned, then her eyes lit up, "4 galaxy."

Larry's mouth dropped open and he turned to look at Charlie, whose mouth was similarly agape. "You must have looked," Charlie spluttered. "When you were leaving the room, you must have looked."

"There is no way she would have been able to identify the NGC 4414," Larry muttered, still staring at her in disbelief.

"You must have looked," Charlie was repeating, much to the entertainment of his brother.

Taylor's grin widened into one to rival the Cheshire Cat. "I have two words, Charlie, two words. Occam's Razor."

She didn't think it was possible, but Larry's mouth dropped open further, and Charlie just froze.

"What's Occam's Razor?" Flack asked her.

Taylor shrugged. "Damned if I know, but that's what I was told to tell him."

"I know this one," Don told them, unable to keep from smiling. "That sometimes, the simplest explanation is the easiest."

. . .

As they left the FBI building, and made their way to road to hail a cab, Taylor spotted a familiar face, staring up at the clouds. "I'll be right back," she told Flack.

Flack looked over and spotted Cory, his face darkening. "Taylor," he warned, his voice low.

Taylor whirled around and glared at him. "No," she told him. "You do not even think it. I am going to have a chat with Cory and you are going to wait here." Without waiting for a response, she headed over to the bench. "Is this seat taken?"

Cory looked over and gave Taylor a small smile. "No."

"Are you alright?" Taylor asked her, perching on the cool wooden bench. "I dumped a lot on you yesterday."

Cory slowly nodded. "I will be. Thank you. It was a lot of things that I think I knew but I didn't want to hear. I'm glad you told me."

"And what happens now?" Taylor asked her. "You looking for a home here?"

Cory giggled a little. "Me? Live in the cereal state?" At Taylor's confused look, she explained, "It's the land of fruit, nuts and flakes, but to be serious no," Cory disagreed. "This isn't home. I don't know what comes next, but I really am done with the FBI. I think I might head back to my parents for a while. I think I need to see Michael."

"After that?" Taylor pressed.

Cory shrugged, smiling. "Who knows? But I'm sure I'll run into you again."

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Taylor agreed, looking back at Flack. "I should go. Take care, Corinne Reid."

* * *

_**Axellia's Note: **I've done it. I have finally re-read this story myself (it took about five weeks as I started off editing it as I was going, then I realised it would be next summer before I was finished, so I've de-prioritised that) and I can happily say that last week I finished a new chapter and sent it to my wonderful beta. To put this into perspective, these chapters with the Numb3rs crossover were written when I still worked at CfL, which would be... oh pants - 2009. I wasn't quite so far behind then with what was airing on television. Now it looks like I'm five seasons behind. But the important thing is that my writing bug is back. _

_I have no intention of completely abandoning this story. When I stop writing, it will be when the story is finished, and the last words will be 'the end'. I'm not there yet. The only thing you have to be aware of is that I work an execptionally large amount of hours. I've just started another three jobs. Heck, that sounds even worse when I see it written down. I counted and I'm now on my 35th job! I'm 28... _

_You know if you buy a packet of painkiller and (UK) you pull out the piece of paper with the directions / warnings, or (US) the labels on the packets with the same information - I now write those. One typo... That's the main job Monday to Friday. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday nights I DJ, and Saturday, Sunday and Monday nights I work at Frankie & Benny's. I'm not trying to make excuses, but I am trying to show you how little time I have in my life. (I need to pay off a loan I was stupid enough to get, and until then, I will work). In between, I will try to write as much as I can._

_BUT, please know, I am aware of how many of you read this, have favourited or alerted it, and of course the reviewed. I don't think there are enough words to express my gratitude for that - they really have been motivators, and I will be honest, you can quite easliy guilt trip me into nearly anything. What I am trying to say is, __I will keep writing until you get an ending you deserve!_

_witchbaby300 - not at all, though I'm glad to hear from you. I'm working on writing period, speed will have to come later!_

_stellaSMacked - up until recently I wouldn't have known what you were talking about but I've started watching Fringe and I see what you mean about Larry and Walter. _

_Guest - thank you! Three days?! I'm impressed! It has been a while and I'm sorry, but I can assure you I've spent too much time in this myself to abandon it without a real ending. More chapters will come, I promise!_

_xSamiliciousx - it took a while, but hopefully this will become a regular thing!_

_miss wizard of oz - surprise! LOL. It took me ages (and I was reading this at work - shhhh!)_

_sparkyCSI - yup, and I'm working on the next chapter too! Not sure when you'll have it though. Busy week ahead :(_


	245. Things Can Only Get Better, Right?

_As always, thanks to my beta sparkyCSI... only, all the mistakes are my fault... I may have taken the chapter I sent her, decided I didn't like half of it, deleted it, and re-wrote it. I think part of the problem (my problem), is waiting so long between writing means you forget what your original intentions were when you return to it. Plus __I finally got caught up on the new episodes and it sparked something._

* * *

_29/12/12_

**Chapter 244: Things Can Only Get Better, Right?**

Taylor lay on her back, staring at the ceiling as she listened to Flack's steady breathing. She couldn't sleep. She had remained awake since they got into bed for so long, that now her eyes could pick out all the details in the sparse light. Silently, she sat upright, slipping out of the covers to sink her feet into her slippers.

They had arrived back from LA late and they had all gone to bed straight away. Flack had fallen asleep instantly, whereas Taylor hadn't been able to. After they had left the FBI, they had collected Riley and Chase from her father, both of whom had been excitable all evening – first bubbling over with their day with the navy, then at the prospect of visiting a theme park. Flack who could apparently sleep through anything had again slept, and Taylor had lain awake all night. By the time she was on the plane, after a day with ride after ride, combined with a sleeping pill, and she had slept the entire way back to New York.

Now, she was awake. The light of the digital clock announced it was 3:08am as she pulled her phone from charge next to it. Quietly, she made her way downstairs, past the living room where she could hear Sean snoring, through the kitchen and into the basement. It was cold down there, and she pulled one of Flack's sweaters out of the dryer, pulling it on, before sitting herself on top of the appliance.

She wasn't sure who she was going to call when she started scrolling through the names. Everyone she wanted to talk to would be asleep. Everyone she could talk to, everyone who stood a chance at still being up at this hour – whatever the time zone – well, they were the people she shouldn't talk to. Cops, CSIs, lab techs…

Her fingers hovered above Marty's name and then she hit dial. It rang and rang, eventually going to voicemail. With a sigh, Taylor began running through the names again.

Then she found herself staring at a familiar name. One that she knew would answer her call. One that she knew couldn't possibly say anything to anyone as he had been in enough trouble with the law.

Dean Winchester.

She hit call and was surprised when the voice at the other end was a woman, telling her politely that the number was no longer in service. With a frown, Taylor pulled the phone from her ear and hit dial again. Dean had changed his number once before and he had sent her a quick text to let her know. Apparently the FBI had gotten a hold of the other number and had been trying to trace them through it.

Maybe he hadn't thought about it. It had been a while since they had spoken. Instead, she called his brother, and was very relieved when Sam answered within a couple of rings.

_"Hello?"_

"Hi Sam. It's Taylor," Taylor greeted him. "How's things."

_"They've_ _been better," _Sam replied, shortly.

Taylor frowned again. "I know it's late, and I know it's a bit rude of me, but I'm trying to get in touch with Dean. Has he changed-"

She was cut off by a long sigh. "_He's dead."_

"What?" Taylor asked, the question nothing more than a hoarse whisper. "When? How?"

_"About six weeks ago," _Sam told her, his answer void of emotion.

"Oh my god, Sam," Taylor mumbled. "I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

_"Not unless you know how to bring someone back from the dead?"_ Sam snapped at her.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, shaking her head. "I… I don't know what to say," she admitted. "At least he's in a better place-"

_"A better place?"_ Sam repeated in disbelief. _"Taylor, he's in Hell."_

"No," Taylor said firmly. "I refuse to believe that. You and Dean have spent your lives saving people. There's no way he's in Hell."

_"It was saving people that put him there,"_ Sam told her, his voice again devoid of emotion. _"Saving me. He made a deal with a demon, thinking he was saving me. Believe what you want Taylor, but Dean's dead and I saw his body ripped to shreds by hellhounds."_ And then he hung up.

"Oh God," Taylor muttered, feeling her stomach lurch. Her phone was still clattering on the metal top of the dryer as she heaved her stomach contents into the small sink next to the washing machine.

She left the water running as she slumped to the floor, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. And then the tears started. A constant stream down the side of her face as the crying turned into the heavy sobs that made it difficult to breathe.

With no clock and no light coming through the blocked up windows at the far end of the basement, she didn't know how long she was down there, but it was Flack who found her. He was at her side in an instant, pulling her to him. "What's the matter?" he asked her, alarmed. "What's happened?"

It was a long time before she could calm down enough to splutter two words. "Dean's dead."

"Dean?" Don questioned, frowning as he quickly ran through the small number of Dean's that he knew. "Dean Winchester?"

Taylor managed a half nod. "Yeah," she confirmed, her voice hoarse.

"Oh, Taylor, I'm sorry," he muttered, gently rubbing her arm. "I don't know what to say, I'm sorry."

"He's in hell," she told him. "He did all that he could to save his brother and-" Taylor's breath caught in her throat as her eyes went wide. "Oh my god," she gasped.

"He's in hell?" Flack repeated in disbelief. "Hell?"

Taylor nodded slowly. "That's what Sam told me."

Flack shifted, examining her in the dim light. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked finally.

Taylor closed her eyes, shaking her head. "No, I decided I wasn't going to bring it up."

Flack stared at her for a few moments longer before he got to his feet and turned the tap off. He turned his attention back to his fiancé and held out his hand. "Come on. It's cold and damp down here. Let's go back to the bedroom and talk, because there is clearly something else playing on your mind."

Silently, Taylor took his offered hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. She followed him back into the kitchen where he told her to carry on up to the bedroom. The clock in the bedroom told her it was only just after four. It was still cold in the house, so she slipped into bed, pulling the duvet up around her neck.

A few minutes later, Flack appeared carrying two steaming mugs. He handed one over to Taylor as he got in the bed beside her. She took the hot chocolate off him, wrapping her hands around the mug. Even if it wasn't this time in the morning, it was really too warm out to have the heating on, much less in the rarely used basement.

"Talk to me Tay," he said gently, pulling her from her thoughts.

Taylor blinked and stared up at him. "Don," she started wearily.

"It's about Cory, isn't it," he sighed, rubbing his hand over his jaw wearily. "You've been acting strangely towards me since we saw her in LA."

Taylor nodded, glumly. "She told me what you did."

"Taylor," he said, quietly. "I wasn't in a good place then."

Taylor blinked at him disbelievingly. "You mean you really did put a gun to her head and threaten her?"

"I blamed her," he told her, simply.

"Don, my getting shot was nobody's fault other than my own," she told him, reaching over to set the mug down on the bedside cabinet. "I did the research, I met with Sassone, and _I_ pushed you out of the way."

Flack nodded. "I didn't see it like that. When I had that machine turned off, I blamed everyone, including myself."

Taylor turned so she was facing him more with her body, and cocked her head. "I want to adopt Riley."

Flack's mouth fell open slightly. "What does that have to do with Cory?" he asked her in confusion.

Taylor shrugged. "Nothing, I guess. I just… we spend so much time going over old ground, over things we can't change. Riley – we can change that. Chase too."

"Chase has an uncle," Flack pointed out. "And I know he's not exactly-"

"And I want to move house," Taylor added, cutting him off.

Flack studied her for a moment, before setting his own untouched drink down on his bedside cabinet. "Tay, are you feeling alright?"

"That's the point," Taylor informed him. "I do feel alright. I'm alive, I'm with you, and I'm happy. I'm not going to dwell on things that have happened in the past anymore. I'm focusing on the future. We're going to get married. Sooner, rather than later, if I have my way," she added. "And I know Riley hasn't been with us long, and I know that she might not want to stay with us, but I want to eventually give her that option. And Chase – I will work out how to get him away from that uncle of his. But when I do, we're going to need a bigger place. A place where we can get a couple of cats," she frowned, seeing Flack's expression. "Fine, a dog. But this place is no good for a dog. Maybe not living in the city will help us working in the city. Or you," she shrugged. "Either way, it's got to be cheaper, because even though this place is rent controlled, it's not ours, and we should have our own place." She stopped when she realised Flack was laughing at her. "What?" she demanded.

"Nothing," he protested, shaking his head in amusement.

"I know it sounds like crazy talk," she told him.

"I don't think its crazy talk," he quickly disagreed.

"But," she continued. "This isn't going to happen overnight. First, I need to look a little more at our finances. I need a job," she shrugged. "There is no way we can do any of this just on your salary. Then we can get married. Save up for a deposit on our own place..." she frowned. Suddenly, a panicked look appeared in her eyes.

"What?" Flack asked, suspiciously as she slumped back against the pillows, looking defeated.

"Most people have eighteen years," she said, her eyes wide.

"For what?" Flack pressed.

"College funds," she responded. "You get pregnant and you start putting money away for when the kid goes up and wants to go to college. We have two and as many years."

Flack laughed, reaching out to wrap his arm around Taylor's shoulder to pull her close. "Tay, I love the way you're thinking at the moment, but how about you get some rest and then focus on the first thing on your list: planning our wedding."

Taylor pulled her head away from his shoulder to glance up at him, frowning. "First thing on the list is Chase."

"No," Flack corrected her. "That's the first thing on _my_ list."

. . .

Danny stood outside the tall building which housed the crime lab, staring up at the upper floors. Externally there were no obvious signs that there had been any form of trouble just over two weeks ago. They had made sure that the tinted glass of the windows had been replaced within a day of them being blown out.

He hadn't seen inside. As soon as he had come out of the warehouse he had been rushed off to hospital to have his hand attended to. Shortly after, once Danny had been given the all clear, he'd gone straight home. Since then he'd been enjoying the time off and listening to the daily reports from his wife.

The city had cleaned up the streets the same day. The following day, as the windows were being replaced, the work had turned inside. Given how busy the crime lab – and the NYPD in general – were, the least amount of downtime, the better. The night before, as a very weary Lindsay climbed into bed, she mumbled something about it finally becoming a fully functional lab.

It was her demeanour that had brought him in today, even though he had another week of mandatory sick leave left. Mac had left for the airport almost instantly, emailing his report from London. Both he and Adam were off sick, and Stella was still on maternity leave. On their shift, it left Lindsay and Hawkes.

When Mac had called to check in (and make sure his report had been safely received), he had realised what he had left behind. He had instantly agreed that he would be available via email, and where necessary, via phone. He had just as quickly tried to temporarily promote Hawkes to Assistant Supervisor. Tried, and failed.

Given Hawkes' recent dealings with IAB (regardless of the fact he had been proven innocent), the higher powers had deemed him an unsuitable candidate. When the chief had declared he would pull someone from the swing shift in, Mac had put his foot down. If anyone was going to be running his team, it would be his own... which by default, left Lindsay.

Neither Danny nor Lindsay had realised just how much Mac had to deal with it when she'd accepted. It wasn't just assigning the cases, keeping tabs and making sure that people turned up to work. Apparently, he was also in charge of making sure the repairs were to spec. This in itself, was enough to keep Lindsay out of the field – she restricted herself to the lab and running procedures just so she was always around.

Thankfully, Mac had sought out an extra body – a temporary secondment from another crime lab on the other side of the country, who actually knew what he was doing... even if he didn't have a clue where he was in the city.

Danny stuck the hand which wasn't bandaged up into his pocket and headed in, taking the lift up. Even before the doors pinged open, the stench of new paint assaulted his nostrils. He stepped out, surveying the area. It was very similar to how it had been before, but the glass was new, and the contents of the labs looked like they had been upgraded and modernised – Lindsay had mentioned new kit.

He spotted Lindsay straight away. She was standing in the middle of what was going to be Mac's new and improved office, facing him, with a stunned look on her face as she read from the piece of paper she was holding. Frowning, Danny quickly hurried over, dodging the various workmen who were putting the finishing touches in place. "What's up, Montana?" he asked her gently, trying not to startle her.

She glanced up at him, brown eyes grateful to see him, and wordlessly hand over the paper – a letter. Danny took it off her.

_Dear Mac,_

_It is with great regret that I must tender my resignation. I will use the remaining time left of my maternity leave, but I will not return to the Crime Lab. I appreciate that given the current circumstances it leaves you in a difficult situation, and where possible I will consult when needed. I will of course honor any commitments I have made regarding my..._

Danny stopped reading and looked up at Lindsay. "Stella?" he asked, finding it difficult not to look shocked.

Lindsay nodded. "It came through the post this morning."

"Is this a joke?" Danny asked, glancing back down at the paper and quickly rereading it.

"I called Stella, and I called Mac," Lindsay explained. "Mac already knew – he's just asked Stella to put it down, formally, in writing." Lindsay inhaled deeply, taking the letter back from Danny. "She saw everything on the news and realised that the most important thing in her life is Liam - she wants to see him grow up. But I think Mac is planning on coming back early to try to convince her to stay - part time hours. I don't blame her though. It could easily have been her in here."

"I guess," Danny agreed. "I dunno, I just..." he trailed off, shrugging. "I guess I always thought she would be here, you know? Mac and Stella, running the lab together?"

"Excuse me?"

Danny and Lindsay looked up to the doorway, where the transfer CSI was stood. "What's up, Greg?" Lindsay asked the blonde haired man.

"I know I've been here a week, and I was learning where everything was, but the chemical store doesn't seem to be in the same place as it was yesterday," he explained, apologetically, scratching the back of his head.

Danny snorted. "A chemical store doesn't grow legs and move," he chortled.

His laughter was quickly halted by a Lindsay swiping at his chest. "It does when it was in a temporary location," Lindsay corrected him. "Sorry Greg. I came in here to email out the memo, but I got distracted. It's now back opposite the DNA lab."

"Not a problem," Greg acknowledged. "Things kept moving all the time when my old lab got blown up too."

Danny and Lindsay shared a look. "Do we want to know?" Danny asked him dubiously.

* * *

_To all of you who work a job that involves standing on your feet all day, you have my complete respect. I have come to the conclusion that F&B is not for me, and we shall be parting ways shortly. I'm also dropping a night in DJing... Two nights plus a day job is enough. _

_xSamiliciousx - Hopefully I'm not keeping you waiting too long!_

_sparkyCSI - Finish the War at Home - that is an order! lol. So, about the changes... Surprise!_

_Madison Bellows - Ugh, math shudders I'd like to say I know what's coming up myself, but every time I settle on something, I change my mind. At least there is inspiration again._

_exileena - It took me a while to catch up - I was waaaaay behind for ages, but it is definitely worth it if you get the chance! I know what you mean about Charlie too_


	246. Flack Gets Another Partner

_Pheonix1995 - I hope your exams went well? Stella will keep popping in and out (she's not going as fas as New Orleans!), and I have things planned for Taylor's job :-)_

_TVjunkie323 - I'm working on the wedding in my downtime, so that will appear at some point. Yes, Jo will be making an appearance shortly. I'm trying to catch up with the seasons, althoughI'm not entirely certain how that will work given how I jump about with the episodes._

_ImaSupernaturalCSI - Famous? Lol, that makes me smile! I'm sat with Numb3rs on in the background at the moment! Everytime I think about ending it, I suddenly have another half dozen plot threads to work on. I think it's safe to say, for now, it is a never-ending story._

_sparkyCSI - Day off... I'm not familiar with that term... yet. I'm now down to one job, and two evenings DJing. Admittedly at the moment, we're getting paid for overtime at work, so I'm on days probably very similar to you on your overtime seasons. Yes, I think Jo is coming in - she really grew on me, and I need to try to catch up the seasons. This story is still stuck in 2008!_

_Madison Bellows - Me too - I'm happy the bunnies are back though._

_SomebodyWhoCares - Yes! Very soon - although, to be fair (although it's taken me forever to update), it's only been a few weeks with her being unemployed._

* * *

_03/02/2013_

**Chapter 245: Flack Gets Another Partner**

Flack reached out and smacked the blaring alarm off. Yawning, he rolled over and opened his eyes to find Taylor's side of the bed empty to his surprise. He glanced at the clock on her bedside table and frowned. It had only been couple of hours since he and Taylor had talked and he expected Taylor to still be asleep considering how little sleep she'd had. He could hear movement in the house and, realising she was probably getting Riley up and ready for school, he decided to get up himself.

He quickly showered and dressed, pulling out one of his suits, and one of his favourite ties – pinks, purples and blues exploding together in swirls. Heading downstairs, he was slightly surprised to see Taylor frowning at the kitchen table, surrounded by her laptop and piles of papers. Behind her, sitting on the counter with a Pop Tart in her mouth, was Riley.

"Off the counter," Flack chided her. As she hopped down, he added, "And where is your plate?"

Rolling her eyes, Riley pulled a plate out of the cupboard and leant back against the counter. "Better?"

"I would be if you sat down and ate that," Flack calmly responded, as he poured himself a large bowl of cereal.

"Where?" Riley asked him.

Flack glanced back at the table on his way over to the fridge and sighed. "Tay, how long have you been there?" he asked, opening the fridge door and pulling the milk carton from it. "Taylor?" he asked again, when he didn't get a response. He sighed again and looked over at Riley. "How about you go make sure your bag is packed? I'll take you into school this morning."

The request earned another eye roll from Riley as she clearly understood why he wanted her gone, but she took what was left of her Pop Tart and did as he requested. As soon as she was gone, Flack shut the kitchen door behind her, then sat down next to Taylor, watching her work. "Taylor?" he said, gently, when she took no notice.

"In the dishwasher," she muttered, typing away.

Patiently, Flack leant over and pushed the laptop closed. Taylor gave him a startled look. "How long have you been here?" he asked her.

Taylor chewed at her lip. "About five minutes after you fell asleep again?" she offered. "I couldn't sleep." Flack gave the empty coffee pot on the side a pointed look. "Well, I couldn't get to sleep, and then it got to the point where I was supposed to be up again anyway that there was no point in going to bed," she admitted.

"Yet you had coffee?" he pointed out.

"I had one cup," Taylor said defensively. "Sean came in and had the rest before he left for work."

"You want another?" he offered, getting to his feet and set to rinsing it out so he could get a fresh pot brewing.

"Why not," Taylor agreed.

He waited until the coffee was beginning to drip through, and he had added the milk to his cereal bowl before sitting back down and speaking again. "So what are you up to?" he asked, nodding at the mess on the table.

"I was looking at my financial situation," Taylor told him, sitting back in the chair and stretching. "It's not good," she admitted. "All this jetting around the country has all but wiped out one of my savings accounts. I have my 'Rainy Day' account untouched, as is the 'House Fund', but I really don't want to touch the latter if I don't have to. So I was updating my resume and looking online for jobs."

Flack set his bowl down on a spare spot on the table and gave Taylor a surprised look. "A Rainy Day and a House Fund account? Just how many savings accounts do you have?"

Taylor shrugged. "Just the three." She studied the look Flack was giving her and frowned. "Which isn't normal?" she asked him.

Flack slowly shook his head. "Unless you've not got much in them."

Taylor flushed. "Well, like I said, the main one is all but empty, and the Rainy Day account only has a couple of thousand in it, but the House Fund is nearly enough to put down a deposit, although not on the size house I'd want..." she trailed off, noticing the incredulous expression on Flack's face. "What? I earned good money at the paper, and ever since I finished being an intern there and started getting proper money, I started saving. Besides, the majority of the House Fund was left to me when my grandparents died, under strict instructions of what it was to be spent on. Either way, I can't ignore the fact that I need to get a job."

Flack shook his head, still surprised, and got up to sort the coffee out. "Just when I think I know all I can about you, you still find something to surprise me with," he muttered, pouring the drinks for them both. He returned to the table, and handed Taylor the mug.

"Thanks," she said, setting it down.

"And how is the job hunting going?" he asked her.

Taylor sighed, shrugging. "I've put my feelers out to a few papers and magazines in the city, but I haven't heard anything yet as I fully expect Nancy to have blackened my name. I've started looking elsewhere, hence updating my resume."

Flack took a long sip of his drink. "You know, there is my salary too," he pointed out.

"And the money we receive for Riley," Taylor agreed. "But we live in Manhattan, Riley and her parrot need taking care of, and I still want to get married before the world ends." Flack arched his eyebrows at the last comment, but didn't say anything. Taylor glanced down at one of the papers and sighed. "We could live in Jersey for less than half what we pay now." At the choking sound coming from next to her, she looked up. "We _could_," she stressed. "I'm just making a point at how expensive this island is, even with rent-control."

"And on that bombshell, I should probably take Riley to school," Flack announced getting to his feet and finishing off his drink. As he leant over to kiss Taylor's forehead, she smiled, grabbing at his tie. "It's my favourite," he told her.

"I bought you this," she told him.

"I know," Flack agreed.

"It's hideous," she chuckled. "I never thought you would wear it."

"It's a work of art," Flack corrected her, trying to tug it from her grasp.

"Not so fast," Taylor muttered, using it to pull him down to her so she could kiss him properly.

"Have fun job hunting," he said, finally.

. . .

Flack was heading back into the city after dropping Riley at school, when he nearly crashed the car. Miraculously, there was no oncoming traffic as he swerved onto the wrong side of the road, though he did earn a few horn blasts from the vehicles behind him. He quickly negotiated the traffic on _his_ side of the road so that he could pull over. While his heart was still beating away, a million miles a minute, he turned to the ghost in the passenger seat, livid. "What in God's name makes you think that now is a good time to suddenly appear in the car, Louie?" he demanded.

"Nice to see you too," Louie grumbled.

"Nice to see you?" Flack repeated, incredulously. "If there had been a car in the other lane, it might not have hurt you, but I'm still alive."

"Exactly," Louie agreed.

"I see why Taylor gets so frustrated with you," Flack grunted through gritted teeth as he punched at the top of the steering wheel. "Damn it, Louie, what the hell do you want?"

"I'm actually here to help you," Louie told him, grumpily. "But if you're going to be like that, I can go bug Taylor."

Flack thought back to his fiancé, sitting at the kitchen table, still in her pyjamas and sighed. Louie was starting to fade away when Flack told him to wait. "What do you mean, help me?" he questioned, warily.

Louie quickly phased back in. "Notice anything?" he asked him.

"You mean _besides_ the fact I'm talking to the ghost sitting next to me?" Flack asked, sarcasm lacing his tone. Louie pointed at his head. "You showed up to show me a new haircut?" Flack asked in disbelief.

"No," Louie said, slowly. "Notice something missing. Or not missing as the case may be?"

"What are you talkin..." he trailed off. "Your head is intact," Flack realised. "And you've changed clothes, although that suit ain't white."

"Exactly," Louie agreed. "As a reward for helping taking down the Irish Mob, you get your very own partner. And no, I'm not wearing white," he glanced down at the smart, charcoal suit, black shirt and black tie. "Do I look like I could pull off white?"

"What do you mean by partner?" Flack asked him, suspiciously. "Are you going to be showing up with dead bodies at all hours of the day?"

Louie shrugged. "It depends on the case."

"It depends on the case," Flack repeated, laughing. "Listen to you. Maddy was a teacher – she looks after the ghosts, whereas Aid was a cop – she looks after Taylor. You were a janitor - what are you going to do? Mop the floor up after me?"

"That job lasted four months," Louie told him. "I was a jack of all trades. But I have something else to bring to the table."

"Oh, do tell," Flack muttered.

Louie shot him a scathing look. "I know bad guys."

Flack snorted. "Yeah, I know some too. Dunno how that's going to help me though."

"No, I _know_ bad guys," Louie corrected him. "I was one."

This time, Flack laughed. "A couple of run-ins with Sassone doesn't make you a bad guy."

"If you cops knew even half of what I got up to before I died, there is no way on this earth they would have let Danny join the force."

"You're joking, right?" Flack asked, though there was something about the way Louie had made that statement which made him think that _half_ was being generous. At Louie's silence, he shook his head. "I don't want to know," he said, quickly. "So how are you supposed to help me? Don't tell me we're going to be arresting every bad guy in New York?"

"Stop getting your panties in a twist," Louie said, rolling his eyes. "I kept that side of my life hidden from Danny. I know how much that job means to him, and you'd better believe he means more to me than that. Like I said, you did a good job with the Irish Mob, and we want to help you put some more bad guys behind bars. But not all of them."

"What are you scheming, Louie?" Flack asked dubiously. "Because I'm not doing anything illegal."

"Like hunt down a perp and shoot him in cold blood?" Louie retorted.

Flack paled slightly but held Louie's stare. "Exactly like that," he responded, evenly.

"You unloaded your clip into Bohr," Louie pointed out.

"Yeah, I think I remember the details," Flack growled.

"Jeez, someone didn't have enough coffee this morning," Louie muttered.

"For crying out loud Louie, cut the crap and tell my why you're here!" Flack snapped.

Louie held his hands up. "I told you, I'm here to help."

"How?" Flack cried in exasperation.

"Well, for starters, how about we get that uncle of Chase's arrested?" Louie shrugged.

Flack grew still, staring at him. "I'm listening," he said, slowly.

"Oh, it's not going to be that easy," Louie said, seeing Flack's expectant face.

"No, I didn't think it would be, somehow," Flack agreed.

"So here's the deal," Louie started. "I'm here to help _you._ You can't be telling Taylor about me. At all."

"Why not?"

That earned him another eye roll. "Do you not think Taylor has a habit of getting herself into enough dangerous situations as it is?" Louie asked. "Seriously, that broad might as well have a flashing neon sign saying _I love trouble_ above her head at all times. You tell her and you know she's going to get involved. And like I said, I know bad guys."

Flack considered it for half a moment. "You might be onto something there," he admitted.

"So you can't mention a word about me," Louie insisted, staring intently at him.

"Jeeze, what do you want me to do, sign a contact in my blood?" Flack asked. "I'm not going to say anything to her about you, alright?"

"I mean it, Flack. One word, and I'm outta here."

"Louie!" Flack snapped.

Louie settled back into the passenger seat. "As we speak, a man is being murdered, not far from Madison Square. I suggest you head there now so you can find the body and call it in, seeing as that's not your precinct's jurisdiction."

The look of suspicion was back. "And how is that going to help me help Chase?"

"Why don't you go there and find out?" Louie suggested, disappearing.

Flack watched him go and inhaled deeply. "Great," he muttered to the empty car. "I get to put up with him as well as Grace." There was a crack of thunder as the heavens opened up. "That had better not be a sign," Flack mumbled, flicking the windscreen wipers on.

* * *

_I know I say it a lot, but I really don't think I can say it enough. Thank you for reading, reviewing, and all the alerts. I'm still editing this story (and I sense this will take a long time, given how long the story is) but if there's one thing the process is doing, is showing me how proud I am of it. Yes, it has its rough parts, and sure, it needed editing, but I have spent a very long time working on this, and it really does make my day every time an alert pops up - I'm just happy that there are people who are enjoying the time I put into this. So, thank you!_

_For those of you who pm'd me about the "kindle version", I have Parts I and II compete, so drop me your kindle email address and I'll email them over to you._


	247. She's Not The Only One Who See's Ghosts

_Spoiler alert: the next few chapters are based loosely on 5x14; She's Not There_

**Chapter 246: She's Not The Only One Who Sees Ghosts**

"Couldn't you have told me he was going to die so I could have done something about it?" Flack grumbled as he supervised the officers cordoning off crime scene.

Flack looked up, catching his reflection in a store window. He looked as drenched as he felt: the water running down his neck. Louie, annoyingly, was untouched by the pouring rain, the water falling straight through his shaking head. "It doesn't work like that," Louie told him. "If a person's time is up, it's up," he said. "It's only the exceptional circumstances where it isn't."

Flack glanced down at the dead body. As he thought about the rain washing the evidence away, the weather eased up. "Of course it doesn't," he muttered. "So when are the cryptic clues going to turn up?"

"Cryptic clues?" Louie repeated, puzzled.

"You know?" Flack shrugged. "Ghost of dead body repeating the same line over and over?"

Louie pulled a face. "Dude, we've been standing next to his body for the past twenty minutes. Don't you think that if his ghost was going to be joining us, it would be here by now?"

"Ghosts?"

Flack looked up to find Grace walking over, underneath a large black umbrella. "What are you doing here?" he asked. Every since the stunt she had pulled with Taylor in their bedroom, he was finding it harder and harder to tolerate being in the vicinity of her. Something which was particularly hard considering her desk was opposite his.

"The chief sent me out," Grace responded as though nothing had happened. "I'm your partner, remember?"

Flack stared at her. "At work," he emphasised.

"Which is where we are now," Grace pointed out. "The CSIs are a few minutes behind." She moved closer to him, offering the shelter of the umbrella to him.

Flack shook his head. "I'm fine," he told her, stepping back. "It looks like the rain is stopping now anyway."

"I won't bite, you know?" Grace muttered.

Flack didn't believe that for one minute. He looked around, trying to find something that could be constituted as a legitimate reason for not standing around with Grace, and spotted Hawkes' SUV parking up across the street. Exhaling a sigh of relief, he walked over to the tape and held it up, waiting for Hawkes to duck under it. "You've timed that right," he told the CSI.

Hawkes looked at him. "You didn't bring an umbrella?"

"Didn't expect to discover a body out here," Flack shrugged, not feeling the need to put Hawkes right.

"It is a little out of our way," Hawkes agreed. "What do we have?"

Flack led them back over to the body. "Looks like a straight up robbery/homicide, but IDing him might be another story. The guy's got nothing on him. No ID, no cell phone, no wallet, no jewellery."

"Shirt probably made him a walking target," Grace declared, getting back to her feet and joining them. She was referring to the 'I Heart New York' t-shirt the victim was wearing.

"I have a theory about those shirts," Hawkes agreed. "I think there's a direct correlation between the number of miles one lives away from the city and the probability that they'd actually wear it."

"I'd wear one."

Flack looked up at the source of the new voice. "Greg?" he asked in surprise.

Hawkes looked between the two of them. "You two have already met?"

Greg nodded. "Flack's psychic girlfriend helped out on a case in Vegas last year."

"What are you doing here?" Flack asked, still surprised at the younger man's appearance.

"Needed a change of scene," Greg said, vaguely. "There was the opportunity for a twelve week secondment and I took it."

"Have you moved up with your girlfriend?" Grace asked.

"Just me," Greg told her.

"Oh, I'm quite new here myself," Grace continued. "If you need a city buddy, just let me know."

There was something about the way she said it that felt a little creepy to Flack, but Greg hadn't picked up on it. He cleared his throat. "The weather report has more bad weather moving in. You might want to make it quick on processing the scene."

Hawkes nodded, crouching down beside the body. "Anything left that isn't soggy?"

"Very little," Flack replied.

Greg crouched down opposite Hawkes, examining the victim's hands. "It looks like he fought with his attacker. There are defensive wounds from the blade, almost like he wasn't expecting it."

"It's hard to miss a knife coming right at you," Grace shrugged.

Hawkes peered closer at a scar on the victim's neck. "The surgical scar here is constant with thyroid surgery. And," he gently pulled back an eyelid. "Evidence of cataracts being removed from his cornea. I used to see this occasionally when I used to perform autopsy. Greg, check for pigmentation in his fingertips."

Greg picked up one of the hands, and examined the fingers. "I've got several dark stripes along the length of the nail."

"And that is?" Flack asked.

"Commonly seen in patients of chemotherapy," Greg answered.

"So, chemotherapy and thyroid surgery makes thyroid cancer?" Flack suggested.

Hawkes nodded. "Add the cataracts and you have past exposure to high levels of radiation."

"It also looks like there's acrylic dental work," Greg offered, poking around in the victim's mouth. "Which would confirm he's not from this country."

Hawkes nodded in agreement. "Professional guess: our victim was from the Ukraine."

"Wasn't Chernobyl around that area in the late eighties?" Grace suggested.

"It would be consistent with high levels of radiation," Hawkes nodded.

"That puts him a long way from home," Flack frowned.

"Looks like my Big Apple shirt theory holds up," Hawkes declared.

Above them, there was a loud grumble of thunder. "You want to hope the evidence holds up," Flack told him. "You want to let me know when you've found something?"

Hawkes nodded. "Will do."

. . .

Job hunting was boring. By lunchtime, Taylor had lost count of how many emails she had sent, and job applications she had filled out. By mid-afternoon, she had dropped off her resume at various locations, and had then decided to call in and see Stella and baby Liam.

"You've heard then," Stella asked as she opened the door.

Taylor frowned. "Heard what?"

"You're not here to talk me out of it?" Stella asked in surprise, stepping back to let Taylor in.

"What are you...?" Taylor trailed off as she spotted dozens of boxes in various states of being filled, dotted around Stella's living room. "Are you moving?" she asked in confusion.

"You haven't heard?" Stella deduced.

"I came to ask if you would be a character reference, and cuddle that adorable baby of yours. What the hell is going on?" she demanded.

"I have a new job," Stella admitted.

Taylor's mouth fell open. "You're leaving Mac?"

"I'm not with Mac," Stella pointed out.

"I mean the crime lab," Taylor told her. "I just thought you and he would be running that place together forever," she shrugged. "Holy cow, where are you going and when?" she added, gazing at the emptying room.

"Officially I don't start for another three weeks – straight after the maternity leave finishes, but I'm moving next weekend so we can get settled," Stella explained. "You remember Quinn Shelby?"

Taylor frowned. "Quinn? Isn't she the head of the Jersey crime lab?"

Stella nodded. "Well, not anymore. She's moving to New Orleans to head up the crime lab there. I'm taking Quinn's place. But I'm moving to one of the suburbs outside Newark. I want Liam to grow up with a garden."

"Wow," Taylor muttered. "I mean, congratulations. I just didn't expect it. You need any help packing or moving?"

"Moving maybe, but packing is all in hand. Keanu has Liam at the moment, and I'm just getting on with it."

"Oh," Taylor blinked. "Well, I'll leave you to it then."

"I'm happy to be a referee for you though," Stella told her. "You're looking for a job then?"

Taylor nodded. "I need one. It's just hard trying to find one that fits around school hours."

Stella gave her a puzzled look. "You mean for Riley?" Taylor nodded. "You know the girl is nearly sixteen, right? She is old enough to be left alone at home for those couple of hours between school finishing and you getting home from work."

Taylor blinked. "Seriously?"

"I'm surprised this hasn't been considered already," Stella told her. "Riley is very mature for her age, and very independent. Lay out the ground rules, but I think the kid can be trusted to stick to them. It's not like you are leaving her for a week by herself, and she has my number." She gave the surprised woman a reassuring smile. "Don't forget, she's been living in a children's home. She's had quite a bit of freedom there."

"Freedom which led to her stealing my car," Taylor pointed out.

"Hence the ground rules," Stella said. "Why don't you give it a test run, while you're still job hunting? You and Don go out on a date or something?"

"Is this just your suggestion now that you're not going to be around for babysitting duties?" Taylor asked, dubiously. "You've had that responsibility for the last couple of months."

"Taylor," said Stella, patiently. "You asked: I babysat. But I still think she's old enough to be alone for a couple of hours by herself."

"Huh," Taylor muttered. "I guess." Distracted, she allowed Stella to lead her back to her door. "Thanks Stella," she said, as she was about to leave. "And congratulations on the job."

. . .

Seeing as the crime lab was on the way back home, Taylor decided to call in to see if Flack was ready for a break. She stood across the street for a while, staring up at the building it lived in. From the outside, it didn't look any different. "Inside's changed."

Taylor brought her gaze down to street level and found her fiancé making her way towards her. She cocked her head as she drank in his appearance. "That's not even close to what you left the house in this morning," she told him as he drew close. She pulled a face, unable to stop her nose from wrinkling. "You smell of fish."

"That's because I tackled a suspect into a fish stall," Flack informed her, pulling her to him. There were some odd, muffled sounds into his chest and he took a step back. "Are you laughing at me?"

"Absolutely not," Taylor told him, clearing her throat as she tried to stop the laughter. "Should I ask?"

Flack opened his mouth, ready to start telling the story, but remembered what Louie had said. Knowing her like he did, Taylor would inevitably become curious and would then want to make sure the guy he had been chasing was charged appropriately, which would inevitably lead her to wanting to know who his DB was... "Nothing exciting," he assured her instead, shaking his head. "You here for any reason in particular?"

Taylor shook her head. "Just wanted to see if you wanted a coffee – and did you know Stella was leaving?" she asked, not giving him a chance to answer the first question.

"I'd heard," Flack nodded. "And a coffee would be good, but Greg and I have to go hunt down a wallet."

"Who the hell is Greg?" Taylor asked, frowning.

"Glad to see I'm memorable," Greg said, joining Flack's side.

Taylor did a double take, before letting out an excited squeal and launching herself at her blonde friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey Tay," Flack said, wincing. "You know that high pitched voice that only bats and dogs can hear that you do when you're excited...?"

Taylor released Greg and shot Flack an apologetic look. "Sorry, I'm just... what are you doing here?" she asked Greg, reigning her excitement in.

Greg shrugged. "After Warwick dying, and Grissom and Sara leaving, I figured I just needed to get out of Vegas for a while. That and the fact I want to research the history of the New York mobs. I'm thinking of a sequel for my book."

"I get that," Taylor said, nodding in understanding. "You should stop by the house and join us for dinner tonight. Have a catch-up that isn't over an email?" she suggested.

"Sounds good," Greg agreed. "But I can't do tonight. I have plans with Grace."

Taylor blinked. "Grace?" she repeated.

Greg nodded. "She's new to the city too. We're going to go exploring."

"And who defined 'exploring'?" Taylor demanded in alarm. "Because you need to be very clear to her that you mean the city, and not your body."

"Excuse me?" Greg asked, looking a combination of startled and annoyed.

"This isn't the place to have this conversation," Flack told them, indicating to the crime lab behind them, and the large amount of police officials that surrounded them. "I'll explain in the car," he added to Greg.

Taylor stared, mouth open, at her fiancé, before finally shaking her head in disbelief. "I'm going home." Quickly, she turned, leaving a very confused Greg staring expectantly at Flack.

"It's a long story," he muttered.

. . .

"Have you moved at all today?" Sean asked. It was late-afternoon, his shift had finished, and he was surprised to find Taylor still sat at the table where he had last seen her when he had left for work about ten hours earlier.

Taylor looked up from the laptop, blinked, and shut its lid with a sigh. "Yes, but I'm back at it," she admitted. "Actually, for most of the last few hours, I've been plotting the best way to murder the woman who is apparently _still_ his partner, dispose of her body, and get away with it."

"Here's a suggestion," Sean started as he leant back against the kitchen counter. "Don't tell a police officer of your intentions. What's Grace done to piss you off?"

Taylor snorted. "Technically, it was your brother that pissed me off. But if I start to explain, it will quickly turn into his murder that I'm plotting."

Sean considered her carefully for a moment. "He and Grace haven't, you know?"

"No," Taylor quickly responded. "Not for her lack of trying though."

"Ah," Sean nodded, quickly coming to the assumption of _jealous girlfriend. _"And what about when you weren't plotting her murder? Still job hunting?"

Taylor sighed, propping herself up with her elbows. "Actually, I've been plotting on how to get your parents to our wedding. I want them there, you know?"

Sean pulled a face. "They'll be there. They may not like it, but they're not going to miss Donnie get married. _Especially_ my mom."

"They missed your sister's wedding," Taylor pointed out.

"True," Sean agreed. "But Paige eloped. I appreciate they can't stand Damon, but they would have gone. They might not have paid for it, but they would have been there."

"So what do I have to do to make them like me?" Taylor asked him, thoughtfully. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not after money from them, but I would like it that they wanted to be there because they actually liked me. I'm really not _that_ bad." She gave the younger Flack brother a hopeful smile. "I was thinking of inviting them around for dinner, if I could get them to talk to me."

It was Sean's turn to look thoughtful. "You know, I might have an idea."

Taylor's eyes lit up. "Really?" she asked hopefully.

Sean nodded. "It's a bit of a long shot, but it might work. You'll want to get dressed though."

"You want to go now?" Taylor asked.

"Might as well, I'm hungry. If we go now, I'll get fed."

Taylor was up the stairs in a shot, pulling open her closet door. She quickly assessed her clothes, pulling out modest peacock blue dress and matching flats. She was back in the kitchen after a flying trip through the bathroom, much to Sean's surprise. "Ready."

"Alright, that was quicker than I expected," he said, giving her clothing choice the once over. "You know we're not going to church, right?"

"I'm not going to see your parents in anything short or low cut," she explained.

Sean cocked his head. "Who said anything about seeing my parents?"

* * *

_I was going to wait for this to be beta'd before publishing, but I decided I was impatient, therefore all mistakes are mine!_

_Pheonix1995 - Louie is almost writing himself at the moment. I have a rough idea, but the end result may even surprise me_

_SomebodyWhoCares - I think I shall join you in that sigh... She's definitely a character._

_sparkyCSI - More chapters are a possibility, but my muse is making me write wedding speeches at the moment, so until I have something coherent, there's nothing to send!_

_Madison Bellows - I miss his ties! They were always so hideously wonderful. I'm slowly getting there with the editing though_

_TVjunkie323 - I think the job I have lined up for Taylor will certainly be something she enjoys. Hopefully she'll impress her boss too..._

_CSINYNut - I've been re-reading / editing it too, and I've realise how proud I am of this baby, so thank you!_

_xSamiliciousx - I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long_

_HellsBellsBella - Not a problem. Here you go :o)_


	248. Meet The Parents

_Spoilers for 5x14; She's Not There_

* * *

**Chapter 247: Meet The Parents**

Taylor stared dubiously up at the building in front of her before giving Sean an equally sceptical look. "The answers to my problems are in there?" she asked him.

Sean shrugged. "Probably not all your problems, but one or two of them, yes."

"You're not going to make me go in there by myself, are you?" Taylor asked him.

Sean barked out a laugh, one very similar sounding to his brother's, and shook his head. "I told you, I want feeding. Come on."

He was out of the car and halfway up the steps to the front porch, before Taylor had even unbuckled her seatbelt. Taylor inhaled deeply and followed Sean to the front door. It was already being opened by the time she had joined the younger Flack, and she was greeted by someone who was quite obviously a member of the Flack family. "Sean," the woman said warmly, stepping out on the porch to wrap her arms around him. She stepped back and drank in his appearance. "You're too thin," she complained.

"And I'm more than happy to let you fatten me up," he returned with a grin. "How are you, Grandma?"

"Same as ever," she responded, before finally turning her attention to Taylor. "You didn't tell me you had such a pretty girlfriend," she said, smiling at Taylor.

"Oh, I'm not his girlfriend," Taylor quickly corrected him.

"That's what they all say," she said, winking at Taylor.

"Actually, she's right, Grams," Sean hurriedly. "She's Donnie's better half, Taylor. Taylor, this is Irene."

Irene cocked her head slightly. The smile disappeared from her face, but her expression was thoughtful. "From my Donald and Valarie's description, I'd built up an image of you that had you more like Elphaba, green skin and all."

"_Wicked_," Taylor muttered uncomfortably at the confused face Sean was pulling.

The smile returned to Irene's face. "My son always did have a tendency to exaggerate." She stepped back and opened the door wider for them. "Well, let's get out of this rain. If you wouldn't mind setting the table, I have meatballs and spaghetti nearly ready for dishing up."

Sean's eyes lit up as he led Taylor through into the kitchen. "Homemade?"

His question earned him a light smack upside the head. "I am insulted that you would imply otherwise. You know where the cutlery lives." Irene turned her attention to Taylor. "So you're Don's girlfriend. I've heard lot's about you, although I'm sure none of it's true."

"I hope not, ma'am," Taylor muttered, wringing her hands nervously.

Irene pulled a face. "Taylor, you can call me Grams. More importantly, relax. If I think you're wrong for my grandson, trust me, I will let you know, but I will come to that conclusion by myself, rather than through the stories my son has told me. And you can also tell my grandson, that I'm not happy that he hasn't brought you here sooner. Now, sit yourself down at the table, and tell me all about yourself."

. . .

When Flack returned home it was late, and he was surprised to find the light shining out from under the bedroom door. He quietly opened the door, expecting to find Taylor had fallen asleep to the television, but instead found her in the centre of the bed, surrounded by big, fat books. "Tay?" he questioned, softly.

Taylor jumped, the pen she had been chewing falling from her mouth. "Don!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing back so early?"

"I think the question is, what are you doing up so late?" he asked, picking up one of the books so he could sit down. He frowned as he glanced down at the title. "A cookbook?"

Taylor pulled it back from him and began stacking the books up. "Your family is coming for dinner tomorrow night," she told him, leaning over to drop the pile onto the floor beside the bed. When she righted herself, she found Flack staring at her in bewilderment. "Don't start," she warned him.

Flack quickly shook his head. "I wasn't going to," he quickly told her. "But by dinner, you mean?" he asked, carefully.

"I mean I'm going to cook a meatloaf," Taylor responded.

"And by family...?"

"You, me, Riley, Chase, your parents, and Grams."

Flack stared at her, then slowly shook his head. "I hear the words, I understand the words, but collectively, that makes no sense whatsoever."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Your brother is a genius."

This time Flack snorted. "My brother is a lot of things, but genius is not on that list."

"He introduced me to Grams, who, for the record, makes the most delicious meatballs I've ever tasted. She agreed that we all needed to sit down around the same table and talk."

"Really?" Flack asked in surprise.

Taylor's mouth fell open. "You didn't think Grams would approve of me," she realised. "That's why you never introduced us."

"Okay, you stop that train of thought right now," he told her firmly. "I am not ashamed of you in any way, and frankly, I don't care if my family approves of you or not. Because _I_ do." He toed his shoes off and finally sat down on the bed, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "Yes, I should have been polite and introduced you to each other, but I was obviously right when I knew it wasn't important. She likes you."

Taylor frowned. "How can you tell?"

"Tay, you're calling her Grams. That's her way of welcoming you to the family. If she didn't approve, you would never have made it past the front porch, much less had her meatballs. Sean must have let her known you were coming because she will have cooked them especially."

"Really?" Taylor asked, surprised.

Flack nodded. "Yes. And while I won't accept this 'genius' title you want to grant Sean, he did have the right idea getting Grams involved. I'm guessing she told my parents that they _are_ coming tomorrow night, and that they had no choice in the matter?"

Taylor bit her lip. "I don't know exactly, as she said she would call them after I had left, but she did confirm they would all be here for seven tomorrow night. I hope they do come."

"They'll be there," Flack assured her.

. . .

By the time the following evening rolled around, Flack was shattered. They had managed to ID the body as Adrik Fedoruk, and also established that he was in the US trying to track down his missing daughter, Rani. She'd written a plea to help for her father and the only remaining clue was the stationary the letter had been written on, and the DNA under the stamp. The letter had been sat in a puddle of water and despite Hawke's best efforts, they had gained all the information they could from it. As for the DNA, he'd left Greg running it through the database.

Realising they weren't going to get any further in the investigation, and Louie could only say _"Be patient"_, Flack had decided to call it a night and see if Taylor needed rescuing in the kitchen. Despite her constant assurances that she was alright, he was rather worried about what they would be eating. He stepped into the house and started making his way through to the kitchen, but found his attention caught by the contents of the dining room.

Flack paused in the doorway, surveying the dining table in front of him. Although they had a separate dining room, they had taken to eating at the smaller, less formal, table in the kitchen. It was a rare occasion that he, Taylor and Riley ever sat down and ate more than breakfast together. So to see the round table pulled out, eight chairs around it, and a brand new set of dinner settings was a little strange. "Tay, is there something you want to tell me?" he called down the hallway, before continuing on his journey to investigate the source of the delicious smells his nose had picked up on. The kitchen was another sight completely.

The dining room looked positively elegant by comparison. The kitchen table was covered in cookery books that Taylor had been examining the previous evening, and a collection of serving dishes sat ready to have something dished up in them. The pans on top of the hob looked like their contents were under control.

Suspiciously, Flack headed to the cooker and pulled the door open. Inside, just beginning to brown nicely, was what he suspected to be a meatloaf. Judging from the fact the kitchen counters looked like a bomb went off on them, he also suspected it had been made from scratch.

Even more confused, Flack closed the cooker door and left the kitchen, making his way upstairs. He paused as he passed Riley's bedroom door, the teenager sat on the bed, with Chase... studying. Both were dressed smartly – he wasn't even aware that Chase owned a dress shirt. "Have I entered the Twilight Zone?" he muttered to himself, continuing on to his bedroom. He pushed the door open to find Taylor wrapped in a towel, her hair pulled back into a neat chignon and her makeup immaculate, trying to decide between two dresses. Both looked like something his mother would wear, not Taylor. He frowned. "Who are you, and what have you done with Taylor?" he asked his fiancé.

Taylor glanced up, her thoughts obviously elsewhere, and indicated to the dresses. "Which one?"

Flack pulled a face. "If you're going to church, that one, and if you're going to a wake, that one."

"That's what I thought," Taylor sighed. She pulled one of the choices to her, holding it up against her as she examined her reflection in the mirror.

"Tay, what's going on?" Flack asked her softly.

Taylor shrugged. "Your parents have agreed to come to dinner, and I'm going to make them fall in love with me like you did."

Flack pulled the dress away. "Taylor, if you want them to love you like I do, it's not going to be with an overly conservative dress, because that isn't why I love you."

"You want me to wear that nurses outfit?" Taylor asked suspiciously. "Because I really don't want your parents loving me _that_ way."

Flack snorted. "I most certainly don't. And for the record, I had fallen in love with you long before that."

Taylor, who had had half of her attention on the outfits, turned fully to Flack, cocking her head. "When did you fall in love with me?" she asked him.

"The first morning you woke up in my bed," he responded.

"The same morning you were hung over to hell, found me highly infuriating, and could wait to get me _out_ of your bed. If I recall, you didn't even save me any hot water either," Taylor pointed out.

Flack shrugged. "Alright, the night before, in the bar. Anyone who can get a bar to part with a full bottle of tequila has my love. And in my defence, I _was_ hung over: I was trying to wash my hangover away."

"Convincing a barman to give me a bottle of tequila?" Taylor repeated, dubiously. "Seriously, when did you fall in love with me?" she pressed.

Flack sighed and shrugged. "Fine, that was when I admitted to myself that I'd fallen for you. The moment I knew I was in love with you..?"

"Yes," Taylor said, staring up at him, her eyes wide.

"The first time I had you in one of my shirts. It was the night before you decided a night time run by yourself in Central Park was a good idea."

"Don," Taylor started slowly.

"Is this where you call me a doofas?" Flack asked her.

Taylor gave him a smile, taking a step to wrap her arms around his neck. "I love you," she told him.

Flack's hands slowly settled on Taylor's hips, his thumbs tugging at the elastic of Taylor's panties. "Love you," he murmured.

Whatever plans he had for her underwear were abruptly disturbed by the ringing of the doorbell. Taylor's eyes widened. "Oh my god!" she shrieked, leaping backwards and lunging for one of the dresses.

Flack winced. "I'll go."

"No, you need to shower," Taylor instructed him, wriggling into the dress. "And be quick about it, because I really don't want to be left alone with your parents for long." The doorbell rang again, and Taylor darted to the door, but found herself being pulled back to Flack as he grabbed her hand. "Don!"

"Taylor, relax," he told her, spinning her around so that her back was to him. Quickly he zipped up the dress. "Take a deep breath. I will be down in ten."

Taylor hurried down the stairs, calling for Riley and Chase as she passed Riley's bedroom, and pulled the door open. "Grams," she said, breathing a sigh of relief, which she nearly choked on when she realised Flack Senior and his wife were waiting behind her, both with less than impressed expressions on their faces. "Please, come in," she quickly added, stepping back.

. . .

When Flack came down a short while later, things had moved from the hallway to the living room, but the atmosphere was much the same. His parents had seated themselves on the couch – perched on the edge like they were going to catch something from the fabric – next to his brother. Grams was standing in front of the fireplace, looking up at the collection of photographs that had been growing across the wall. Even Chase and Riley were stood next to the window, trying not to fidget beneath the stares his mom and dad kept sending their way. Taylor was nowhere in sight. "Hi mom, dad," Flack said, clearing his throat as he stepped into the room. "I'm glad you could come. Can I get you a drink?"

"Your girlfriend disappeared to do that some time ago," his mother sniffed, disapprovingly.

"Fiance," Flack corrected her, politely. "Riley, do you want to go give her a hand?"

"Oh, god, yes," Riley muttered, all but running out of the room.

There was another moment of awkward silence, before Irene turned around and gave an appreciative sniff. "Whatever Taylor's been cooking, it sure smells good. I hope it tastes as good as it smells," she added, before winking at Chase.

"Hi Grams," Flack grinned, enveloping her in a hug.

Taylor and Riley reappeared, just as everyone had finished greeting one another, carrying a tray of drinks each. "Dinner is all but ready, if you want to make your way next door?" Taylor offered, when the uncomfortable silence settled back over the room.

The atmosphere was still as strained at the table as Riley helped Taylor to hand out their starters – something that looked like vegetable soup, and, as Flack sniffed it, smelled like it too. He glanced over at Chase who was giving it a suspicious stir with his spoon. While his parents and Taylor were distracted by the soup being served, Flack took a quick taste, praying that it tasted as good as it smelled. It did.

He quickly set the spoon back down, gave Chase a reassuring smile, and couldn't help but give his fiancé a look of appreciation. Even if she had poured a few tins into a bowl and passed it off as her own, she had managed to do it without burning the soup – and that in itself was an accomplishment.

For a while, there was the polite chinking sounds of silver hitting china, and then Grams set her spoon down. "Perhaps we should clear the air before we get to the main course," she announced, winking at Flack. "I think it's safe to say that this wasn't cooked over a cauldron, and Taylor isn't a witch."

Riley and Chase's mouths fell open in surprise, as they then quickly turned to watch Taylor's reaction. "No," Taylor agreed. "I save the cauldron for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Sometimes Easter too."

Flack's attention was diverted to his mother, who made a choking noise and set her spoon down, pushing the bowl away from her a fraction. "Oh, for goodness sake, Valarie," Irene scolded. "It's delicious, Taylor," she added, clearly seeing that Taylor was becoming more uncomfortable.

Flack sent his Grams a grateful smile. "It is good, Tay," he agreed.

His grandmother looked around the table and sighed. "Maybe that didn't clear the air. Taylor, what are your intentions with my grandson?"

Taylor blinked. "To marry him, grow old with him," she shrugged. "For as long as he'll let me."

"And does that include marrying him for his money?" Grams pressed.

"I've never been after him for his money," Taylor assured her. "And what's more, I think it that was the case, Don would have given me the boot a long time ago."

Grams ignored the grumbling noises her son was making and pressed on. "And you're not sleeping with him to further your career?"

This time, Flack and Chase consecutively spluttered on their soup, while Valarie knocked her glass of wine over the table. Taylor leapt to her feet, passing her napkin over to Flack's mother before the wine could make its way off the table and into her lap. "I can assure you that I am not sleeping with Flack for the benefit of my career," she told them. Although her face was burning, she kept her voice steady. She quickly darted into the kitchen and returned moments later with a tea towel to mop up the rest of the wine. "It never crossed my mind when I worked at the paper, and even now, when I'm not there, I have no intentions of using anything to get me a front page spread. As it happens, I am currently between jobs anyway."

"So you are after my son for his money," Donald announced.

"Dad!" Flack snapped.

Taylor glanced over at Flack and shook her head. "It's alright," she assured him, before turning to his father. "Sir, let me make this perfectly clear. I love your son, and I love him because of who he is, not because of how big his bank account is, or the potential for me to land the biggest story of the decade. I have no idea why you think that is so impossible a concept, but why you should maybe consider is that maybe you should trust your son's decisions, instead of undermining them, because at the end of the day, you two are the ones that brought him up."

"And have you considered that maybe the reason we're voicing our disapproval at you two is because we brought him up differently?" Valarie snapped back.

Taylor barked out a laugh. "Differently? The man sat at this table, is good, honourable, trustworthy, patient and loving. I refuse to believe for one moment that you brought him up otherwise. Your problem isn't with him, it's with me, so at least acknowledge that fact."

"You're right," Donald agreed. "Our problem is with you. We don't think you are the right kind of woman for our son."

"Dad!" Flack snapped again.

"Why not?" Taylor asked. "I have been dating your son for months and not once have you made the effort to get to know me, so how on earth can you say I'm not the right kind of woman for him?" Taylor took a deep breath and sat down. "I just don't understand why-"

"In the last eighteen months, my son has been investigated by Internal Affairs, written up, or even suspended more times than he had in his working career until the point he met you," Flack Senior snapped. "The next thing I know, he's shacked up with you, someone I've arrested myself, no less, looking after two juvenile delinquents-"

"No!" Taylor cried, slamming her fist on the table. "You can attack me all you want, but under no circumstances will I allow you to bring Riley and Chase into this. If you think I will sit here and let you talk trash about them, well you can get out of my house right this minute."

There was a moment of shock, before Donald's chair screeched backwards across the hardwood floor. "Donald, you sit your butt back in that chair right now!" Irene ordered. Her son glared at her then sat down. Irene took in a deep breath and reached for her purse, pulling out her wallet. Calmly she leant across the table and handed the money over to Riley who was still in shock to do little more than accept the small pile of bills. "We are not going anywhere until we have cleared the air. That being said, I don't think either of you kids need to hear this, and I know I passed a pizza place a block away from here. Why don't you two head there for an hour, have something to eat, and we'll be back to acting more like adults and less like children when you return."

Riley glanced over at Flack, who nodded. "I'll text you." The adults waited for the front door to close behind the teenagers before any of them spoke again. "Just to make it perfectly clear, _I_ won't allow you to attack either of those kids either," he informed his parents. "And if you can't talk to Taylor with some respect, then you can leave. I'm sorry: I want to clear the air; I want to be able to spend time together, as a family; and I want you both at my wedding, but dad, you wouldn't allow anyone to speak to mom like that, and I won't allow you to speak to Taylor like that."

"My son nearly died because of you," Valarie said to Taylor, coolly.

"I nearly died doing my job," Flack corrected her. "If Taylor _hadn't_ have been there, I probably would have died. Did you know she had her hands inside my chest just to stop the bleeding?" he asked his parents.

"Well you wouldn't have been in the building if she wasn't in there," Valarie sniffed.

Flack glanced over at Taylor: her head was bowed and he could tell exactly what was going through her mind from the defeated look on her face. "No," he told his parents. "I didn't even know she was in there. We just got a call to stabbing and in the process discovered the bomb. It was coincidence that we were both there."

"And what about her links to the Brooklyn Bullets and Tanglewood?" Donald asked his son.

"I don't have any links," Taylor told him.

"You were visiting Sassone in prison, and you had drugs in your apartment."

"We cleared this up, dad," Flack sighed. "The drugs had been planted there, and Taylor only went to visit Sassone because she is unfortunately more curious than a cat."

"Where there's smoke," Donald hinted.

"Except in a nightclub," Taylor muttered.

"I beg your pardon?" Valarie asked.

Taylor glanced up. "Where there's smoke, there's a fire. Except in a nightclub. Artificial smoke machines," she shrugged.

Flack decided that he wasn't going to hide his grin. "So maybe there isn't always a fire."

"Your housemate, Marty Pi-"

"Was her housemate," Flack cut his father off. "Just like everyone at the crime lab is someone at the crime lab, and not Taylor. You can't blame her for those instances. She was there because she is a good friend and nothing more."

"Now, is there anything else you wish to address, or can we please get to know your future daughter-in-law before we pass any further judgement?" Grams asked, looking at her son and his wife.

"You say you're currently between jobs?" Flack Senior grunted. "What does that mean? You're not at the _Daily_ anymore?"

Taylor nodded. "I quit a few weeks ago."

"Why?"

"Because my boss changed my job title from crime columnist to crime reporter and insinuated that I should be using the fact that I'm engaged to Don as a way for me to get the exclusive stories. The final straw was when she told me I couldn't go to a friend's wedding. I quit."

There was a long silence around the table. "The soup was lovely," Valarie announced, suddenly. "Did you cook it from scratch?"

"Actually, Mrs Flack, I'm not much of a cook," Taylor admitted, trying hard not to look as shocked as she felt. "I must confess, this was bought from the store around the corner, but it is one of their fresh creations, rather than from a can. I did make the next course by myself thought."

Flack's mother gave her a quick nod. "Please, it's Valarie. And maybe we should try that meal before it becomes overcooked," she added, kindly.

"Here, let me help you with these dirty dishes," Grams said, up on her feet before even Taylor.

. . .

Taylor stared in the mirror, the toothbrush in one hand, the toothpaste in the other, staring blankly at her reflection. "Tay?" Flack called softly from the doorway.

Taylor turned and gave him a puzzled look. "I see that many ghosts," she muttered softly, "That I can't work out if I'm dead or not."

"You survived, Taylor," Flack told her, walking over to her. "_We_ survived. And what's more, they're going to put some money towards the wedding."

"I know," Taylor agreed. "Hence why I can't work out if I'm dead or not, because I thought hell would have to freeze over first, which would surely mean the end of the world, and if the end of the world has come, then we must be dead. Or a zombie."

Flack wrapped his arms around Taylor and chuckled. "You know you watch far too much television, right?"

* * *

_Nothing wrong with a bit of 'mush', right? This was one of those chapters where I don't know where it came from, and as soon as I'd written it, sent it to be beta'd. (And if I can't explain this chapter, lord help me with the next one!)_

_So, the important stuff. The first is my eternal gratitude to sparkyCSI for still being my beta, years down the line. The second, although in other ways equally as important, is my eternal gratitude to all of you who are still reading this - despite my wonderful disappearing skills. Yes, it often takes time for an update, but the fact is, you keep reading, and I keep writing!_

_Phoenix1995 - I have already written the start of Tay's next employment adventures. You'll find out what I have in store in the next chapter..._

_TVjunkie323 - I don't know what's going to happen to Grace. I had plans, once upon a time, but they seemed to have changed. Yes, Greg will be here for a few chapters!_

_SomebodyWhoCares - If it were possible, I would take him home with me!_

_Madison Bellows - I didn't want Stella too far away, although I don't particularly like the thought of lumping Quinn on NOLA. Heck, I've had the same moments too - and sometimes when actually watching the show, so don't worry._

_sparkyCSI - nah, I'm just impatient. Don't worry - but email me if you need to! :o) Heh, I don't know what I have planned anymore. Apart from a wedding. I doubt I will go into this much detail for my own! But that's another story. Um, secondment may be a British thing. It's a temporary transfer within the same organisation, which might not be strictly true here, but in my world, I like to think all the crime labs are linked. Never mind._


	249. What Did London Do To Mac?

**Chapter 248: What Did London Do To Mac?**

Mac headed down the carpeted corridor, pulling his suitcase along with him. His flight had finally landed in JFK. Thanks to a delayed flight in London, followed by being seated next to a screaming baby for the entire flight across the Atlantic, he was tired. Unfortunately, there was something more pressing he had to address first. He knocked on the door in front of him, and waited patiently for it to be answered.

"Mac?" said Stella in surprise. She glanced down, spotting the suitcase and gave him a wry smile. "Normally, it's polite to wait for the person to move out before you move in."

"My flight got in an hour ago," Mac explained. "I came straight here."

From inside the apartment came a muffled cry. Stella sighed. "Looks like nap time is over. Come in," she called over her shoulder as she hurried into the nursery.

Mac did as requested, closing the door behind them. He left the suitcase by the door, then continued his way into her living room. Everything was organised into neat, stacked boxes, all sealed and labelled clearly. This time it was Mac's turn to sigh.

"You okay, Mac?" Stella asked him, quietly.

Mac turned, finding Stella watching him, Liam nestled in her arms. "He's gotten big."

"He's nearly two months old," Stella said proudly. "And putting on weight like you wouldn't believe."

"He'll soon be in college," Mac warned her with a small grin.

Stella shook her head. "No, he's not going to get much bigger than this. Past potty training, and then he's stopping."

Mac laughed. "Good luck with that."

Stella smiled, handing over Liam. "Any plans for you and Peyton?" she asked. At Mac's lack of answer, she looked up from her son to her friend, her face frowning in concern. "Mac?"

"Peyton stayed in London," Mac explained, simply.

"Oh, Mac," Stella sighed. The four words were enough to know she wasn't coming back to New York, and they weren't going to attempt a long distance relationship. "I'm guessing you didn't come here to talk about that?"

Mac shook his head. "What's done is done. That can't be changed. But I had come here hoping I could change your mind." He glanced around the room. "But I suppose there's no chance with that either."

"You know I'm not moving because of you, or anything at work, don't you?" Stella asked him.

Mac nodded, sadly. "I would do the same thing."

"No you wouldn't," Stella laughed.

Mac met her gaze and shrugged. "Alright, maybe I wouldn't. But I _do_ understand why you're doing it." He sighed, bouncing Liam slightly in his arms, and moved over to the couch, sitting down. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you, though."

"Mac, you're talking like I'm changing time zones," Stella told him. "I will be an hour away."

"Running another lab," he pointed out.

"You'll find someone else," Stella said.

"Someone willing to help out on my admin work, as well as be a criminalist?" Mac asked her. "I don't think so. You're one of a kind."

"Thanks, Mac," said Stella. "But I'm sure you'll find someone who's _nearly_ as good as I am."

. . .

Flack walked into the precinct and pulled his suit jacket off, hanging it up on the well-used coat hanger that sat between his desk and Angell's behind him. As he turned back, he frowned, realising something wasn't right about his desk, and the desk he shared with Grace. Her side was spotless. Normally, it was a case that you couldn't see the wood for the paper, and her monitor was frequently half hidden by a pile of folders. The only way she ever found her mouse, was because she followed the wire from the back of the computer.

Flack frowned and glanced behind him, spotting Grace sitting opposite Angell, but refusing to catch his eyes. He turned, about to walk over, when his Lieutenant called him to his office. With the frown firmly planted on his face, he made his way over to the small office in the corner of the room.

Gerrard's replacement was a short woman, who, like many other superior officers before her, carried a few too many pounds probably from spending too many hours behind a desk. "Close the door," she told him.

"What's going on, Loo?" he asked her. He hadn't worked with her for long enough to be able to get a fair read on her himself, but he'd spoken to some buddies over in Brooklyn, where she'd transferred in from, and they'd said Lieutenant Jayne Black was alright.

"I was hoping you could tell me, Flack," she told him. "Perry asked for a new partner last night. Called it creative differences."

That was one way of putting it. Flack sighed. "She may have indicated that she liked me."

"And?"

Flack shrugged. "And I have a fiancé. But I'm not going to object to not working with her. I'm happy flying solo."

"Good, because we have a new transfer for you. Phil Senna."

Flack pulled a face. "Senna? From 42nd? The guy is a lazy freeloader."

"Then you won't mind working with him," Black shrugged. "If you're doing all the work, then it will be like he's not even there."

"But Loo-" Flack began objecting.

Black shook her head. "If you're going to complain, put it in writing so I can screw it up and throw it in the trash. After Yip, you're lucky anyone wants to work with you." She sat down at her desk, glancing out the window. "Looks like he's here. Go play nice."

Flack exhaled deeply as he left the room, heading back to his desk where Senna was already making himself comfortable. The guy was well known, even around this station. He'd made it out of uniform and transferred into Vice, but after it became pretty apparent that he was a complete chauvinist pig, he was transferred out. Flack was pretty certain it was to somewhere where he was never supposed to meet with the public – somewhere like the cold case unit – so how the hell he'd managed to get to homicide, he had no idea. Given Black's somewhat women's lib beliefs, he was hopeful it wouldn't last long.

"Flackie!" Senna greeted him, like they'd been friends for years.

"It's _Flack_," Flack told him.

"Yeah, whatever," Senna agreed, his attention on something over Flack's shoulder. "I can understand why so many people want to work homicide. Aside from the easy ride, the view in this office is phenomenal."

Flack glanced back, spotting Angell and Grace and rolled his eyes. "Put it away, Senna," he instructed him.

"Holy shit," Senna said instead, before letting out a loud wolf whistle. "That is one hot piece of ass."

Flack turned again, half expecting to see Angell bent over – he might be engaged, and she might prefer girls, but he wasn't going to deny the fact the woman was smoking – only to find Taylor making his way over to him. "That hot piece of ass is my fiancé," he growled at Senna.

"You are one lucky son of a bitch," Senna told him, earning a sharp jab to his side.

"Hi beautiful," Flack greeted Taylor as she arrived at the desk. "How'd the interview go?"

Taylor shrugged. "They liked me, they wanted to meet me, but just to see who Nancy considered the most unemployable writer in the United States of America," Taylor muttered, shrugging off her jacket. "I might have well as gone in my pyjamas," she added, gesturing to the skirt suit that she was wearing.

"I'd have hired you," Senna piped up.

Taylor glanced over at the well-built red head. "Hi?"

"Detective Phil Senna," Senna said smoothly. "But you can call me any time you want."

Taylor blinked. "I'm engaged. To him," she added, pointing at Flack.

"He knows," Flack told him, shooting his new partner another unimpressed look.

"Once you've had Senna, you won't go back to Flack," he said, before chuckling at his own poetry.

Taylor narrowed her eyes. "Do your lines ever actually work?"

"You wanna see the notches on my bedposts?"

Taylor cringed. "Oh, god. Please, no."

"Give it time," Senna informed her. He handed over a business card. "I'll be waiting."

Flack rolled his eyes and ushered Taylor away from their desk and outside into the June sun. "Where do you find these partners?" Taylor asked him in amazement.

Flack held his hands up. "Not my choice, trust me."

"Good luck with that one." Taylor sighed and glanced up at the Crime lab opposite.

"What brings you here?" Flack asked her.

"To see you and let you know how the interview went. Then it's over to the lab to go over the final plans for Stella's leaving party tonight," Taylor replied. "I should probably head in." She leant up and gave him a kiss, before dashing off across the street.

Once safely in the elevator, heading up to the crime lab, she pulled out a clipboard and began examining the sheet on the top. She was so caught up in what she was studying that she didn't realise Mac was sharing the elevator with her until he cleared his throat. She looked up and caught him smiling at her. "Mac?" she said. "You're not due in until," she glanced at her watch. "Three this afternoon."

Mac cocked his head. "When do you know when I'm due back?"

Taylor shrugged. "Stella's leaving party. I had to arrange it so that everyone was here, but before she moved tomorrow."

"You did?" Mac continued, amused.

Taylor nodded. "Tonight at seven. That would have given you a few hours for a nap, not that you sleep much, and probably would have gone straight there. Lindsay and Danny's shift is finished at five, so they have time to go home, shower, and get back to Mid-Town. Sid swapped for the night shift, with his first autopsy scheduled for..." she trailed off at the look Mac was giving her and gave him a sheepish smile.

"You'd be better off with a tablet, than a clipboard," Mac told her.

"That's true," Taylor agreed. "But without a job, that's a luxury I really don't need."

"That's a fair point," Mac agreed as they stepped off into the recently fully operational crime lab.

"Your office is that way," Taylor told him, as he started in the direction of his old office location. Mac glanced back at her, eyebrow arched. "Don't look at me, I didn't play any part in the refit, but apparently you have some really nice kit in here." She led him to his new office and pushed open the door. "It should be very much the same as you left it, other than in another location," Taylor added.

Mac walked in, examining the room, stopping every now and then to pick up a photograph, before setting it back down. "It looks good."

"Good," Taylor sighed in relief.

"Where is everyone?"

"Greg and Hawkes are on their day off," Taylor told him. She frowned, thoughtfully. "Danny was last working on a mugging in Tribeca, and I think Lindsay is probably in her office, finishing off all the paperwork so she can hand it back to you tomorrow. Adam is probably finishing up on the DNA evidence for Danny. Um, Benda and Richard are trying to clear the trace evidence backlog-"

Mac held his hand up and Taylor trailed off. "You seem to have a handle on what's going on in here."

"Just looking after things while you've been gone, giving Lindsay a hand. She's done most of the work, really. It's just been these last couple of days where she's needed to get the paperwork finished," Taylor told him. "But I think everyone will be happier now you've been back. I think everyone will appreciate an extra criminalist on the team too."

"It's been busy then?" Mac asked, settling into his new chair and easing back to try it out."

"Nothing they couldn't handle," Taylor added hurriedly. "But I don't think everyone realised just how much you actually did here." Taylor's mouth fell open in horror. "I didn't mean it like that," she said, cringing slightly under Mac's stare. "I mean, we all know you're busy, I just don't think anyone really thought about what actually goes into running a crime lab... and I'm going to go and see if Lindsay's due for a coffee break."

"You're right," Mac agreed, halting Taylor in her escape bid for the door.

Taylor glanced back. "Huh?"

"You're right. People didn't realise how much I do around here, and that's because I had Stella's help."

"Oh," Taylor sighed. "Well I can help with that. Sinclair sent down some applicants to fill her position. Lindsay didn't want to take that responsibility so we got him to agree to wait until you came back." She hurried over to his desk, and leant over, turning a tablet on. "The city decided that now was a good time to try and reduce the carbon footprint of the crime lab, so where possible, they have provided tablets that are all linked up to the system. Adam had a hand in setting up the firewalls, so I suspect it's pretty indestructible." She pulled up an app, and handed the tablet over. "I won't tell anyone if you want to create a paper copies."

Mac flicked through the various applicants before setting the tablet down. "How do you feel about helping with that?" he asked her.

Taylor shrugged. "Sure," she said, reaching for the tablet. "It's all hooked up to the wifi. You're office printer is set as the default, but the all-singing-all-dancing printer, scanner, coffee maker contraption is in the reception area if you want to print really big documents. It's behind the reception desk, so there shouldn't be any chance of someone from the public picking anything up. But if it's really confidential, maybe..." she trailed off again. "Sorry, I'm sure you know how to print."

"I do," Mac agreed, taking the tablet back from her. "But I was asking if you wanted to help. Me."

Taylor stared at him, blinked, and then burst out laughing. She finally calmed down enough to realise that Mac wasn't laughing with her. "Sorry, Mac. It's been a long day. I thought you were offering me a job."

"I was."

Taylor's mouth fell open. "Come again?"

"Would you like a job?" he asked her.

Taylor glanced around suspiciously. "Is this a joke?" Mac shook his head. "Mac, I'm a journalist. I'm not a cop."

"You realise you don't have to be a cop to work in a crime lab, don't you?" he asked her. "Adam's not a police officer."

"Adam has a degree in Chemistry and a Masters in Forensic Computing," Taylor pointed out. "Mass Comm. and Journalism," she said, using her thumb to point at herself.

"I'm not asking you to be a lab tech, Taylor. I have enough of those," Mac responded, calmly. "And while I do have an opening for a criminalist, I agree that there are better qualified people out there."

"So what are you asking me to do?" Taylor asked him, still puzzled.

"Deal with this," Mac said, gesturing to the tablet.

Taylor pursed her lips. "You're being serious, aren't you?"

"What do you think?" he returned.

"I think I never want to play you in poker," Taylor admitted. She gave him another searching stare. "Not too long ago, you couldn't get me out of this lab quick enough."

Mac let out a weary sigh. "Taylor, I have realised that no matter how hard I try, you will always end up in this lab. I still don't believe that you can see ghosts, and I am not about to give you a free reign to collect evidence, but I need help with the administration work and you have a particularly intuitive mind that sometimes sees evidence in a context which I cannot."

Taylor considered the offer, and then grinned. "Does the job come with benefits and a pension?"

"Don't make me regret this, Taylor," Mac muttered, handing the tablet over to her.

* * *

_So, you know when you write something and you have no idea where it comes from - yup, this is what happened here. But I think I can work with it. What do you guys think?_

_Trizzy - That was an awesome message to wake up to, and kicked my up the butt to post. Thank you. No, I have a few more ideas left in my head yet, and it may take me a while, but I'll get there._

_xSamiliciosusx - Sorry it took me so long!_

_TVjunkie323 - I have become somewhat protective of those two teens, and Flack had to have a member of his family on his side! I think Grams will be back_

_Pheonix1995 - Thank you. Probably not what you were expecting her to be doing?_

_Madison Bellows - Oh, I wish I had been drinking all night. Then again, I would also settle for a full eight hours sleep... or even six! But now I have an image of Snoopy dancing, so thank you for that._

_SomebodyWhoCares - She does - but she survived! I could see Flack being a closet romantic_

_sparkyCSI - How is your fic going? I feel we haven't spoken properly in ages (probably not going to happen soon given the fact I leave the country next week for aaaaages!)_


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